Hermione nudged Harry in the ribs with her elbow to get his attention. Harry grunted and remained where he was. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to get up, it was more that he couldn’t really. Sleep was so rare these days….

Of course, they were in potions. “Where on earth else could they possibly be?” thought Harry pessimistically. Figures the one time he’d actually felt seriously tired would be in this class. Harry neatly folded his arms across the table in front of him and rested his chin lightly on his hands. Snape was lecturing about some kind of potion that could put someone to sleep, or something like that. Harry wasn’t entirely sure and he didn’t particularly care to know.

Harry jerked in surprised at the hot feeling on his leg. Oops, he’d put his leg too close to the fire. He certainly hadn’t been awake before, but he was now. Harry dowsed the fire with a wave of his wand and looked over at his friends. Hermione, ever so clever and equally just as strict, looked exasperated while Ron covered his snicker of amusement. Snape stopped his lecture and gave the trio a hard glare. They sobered up immediately, Ron and Harry both putting on their most innocent expressions. Snape’s eyes narrowed but he turned away from them to continue with his lecture.

Harry air hi-fived Ron and gave Hermione a look that said, “Oh you know you love us.” Hermione just shook her head and went back to her notes the corners of her mouth upturned. Ron and Hermione had both been looking a little more concerned than normal but Harry decided to brush it off. It was typical, these days, for them to have that underlying look.

Harry let his chin drop back onto his hands and let his thoughts run to the most recent of events. Voldemort, curse the man, certainly wasn’t making things any easier for him once again. He still hadn’t told Ron and Hermione about not being able to sleep at all. Oh he knew they thought he wasn’t sleeping enough and that alone was enough to make them worry. But that was no longer the case anymore. For the past few days Voldemort had been relentlessly wandering his mind looking through his memories and tearing hole after hole through his defenses.

Harry knew that the number one thing he could not afford to do now was sleep. He most certainly couldn’t say how he knew; it made only a small amount of sense. After all, what did sleep have to do with Dark Lords wandering his mind? Harry couldn’t find where his rational was coming from…he just knew. He knew that the moment he slipped into sleep something terrible would happen. He was so sure and because he was he’d taken many precautions against falling into the mercy of dreams. Imagine, with a dark lord lording over his very thoughts….

Harry felt the man in his head chuckle and sighed. He would have to go to Dumbledore after class for sure this time. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort’s reign of terror in his head would take him. He would have gone sooner except that he didn’t want to bother the man. Dumbledore had looked awfully busy these past few days, what with all the preparations for the Tri-Wizard Tournament and all. Harry didn’t want to burden him. Besides…Harry barley knew the man. Being a fourth year, he hadn’t had much to do with the headmaster of Hogwarts. Sure he’d met with him a few times, and even had an occasional chit chat with him...but he’d never considered himself close to the man. It just wouldn’t feel right….

Then again, having a Dark Lord in his head didn’t feel right either….

Harry looked up at the time and let out a long breath. Finally! Three minutes till class was over, thank the stars. He grabbed his bag and looked at Ron who was grinning from ear to ear, eager to get out of the dungeons.

The bell rang and Harry stood up to follow his classmates, just as eager as Ron to get away from the slimy git of a potions master. A jolt shot down through him from his scar to his feet and Harry had to grab his desk to keep from falling. A strange feeling passed over his face and red hot pain seared through his eyes. He cringed and fell forward onto the desk kicking over his chair and accidentally sweeping off a glass vial that had been resting at the edge. The sound of glass breaking and the bang of the chair caught more attention than one would think it should. Hermione turned to look at him and paled drastically grabbing onto Ron for what looked like support. Harry, personally, thought this was a bit dramatic. Sure he felt sick but he wasn’t dying or anything important like that. Harry pulled himself up and glanced towards Snape. His teacher’s eyes widened when they met his and Snape began to make his way over with long quick strides.

Harry felt another jolt fire through him from his scar, this one like a flash of lightning. His nose twitched and a horrible smell like hot brimstone filled his nostrils. Oh crap, was his skin of fire? It certainly felt like it. A sharp and precise twinge in his scar sent him reeling to his knees. The pain was so intense his eyes began to sting and something warm and wet trailed down his cheeks from them. He cringed and brought a hand up to wipe it away. Oh Merlin was he crying!? He pulled his hand away and looked at it. Wait, that wasn’t right….

Since when were tears red?

Snape stopped a few feet from him looking as though he’d seen a ghost. He looked wildly around for something. Fear flooded over his face, which was paler than it normally was. He looked less Snape-like than Harry had ever seen him before and if it had been any other time Harry might have had a good laugh.

The students that were still in the classroom ran out quickly leaving only a convulsing Harry, a distraught Hermione, a struggling Ron, a fearful Snape, and surprisingly Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy. Neville was white as a sheet and had backed away towards a wall his head shaking from side to side as if he couldn’t believe it. Malfoy gave Harry an odd look and, to Harry’s initial shock, grabbed a hold of Hermione’s other side and hauled her away from Harry with Ron’s help. Ron only glanced at Malfoy momentarily, in surprise, and then turned his attention back to Harry.

A shrill whistling sound met Harry’s ears and he crumpled down into himself his face skewed, both his hands clamped tightly over his throbbing ears. He was shaking badly now, more so than he’d ever done before. Something wet and sticky seeped through the fingers that covered his ears but he didn’t dare take the time to think about it. It took him moments to realize that Hermione was wailing his name like a banshee. His concern for her spiked the pain in his head double fold.

Snape abandoned looking for whatever it was he was looking for and rushed to Harry. Harry lifted a shaky hand to signal Snape to keep away. The last thing he needed right now was to be told how weak he was being or for Snape to once again call him an attention seeking brat like his father. He hoped with all his being that Snape knew he wasn’t faking or doing this on purpose. Otherwise Harry knew he’d wake up later to detention for the rest of the school year and negative house points. He cried out as a burning sensation racked through him and he choked on something wet that welled up in his throat. His eyes bulged and prickled again, more intensely than before, and something pressed into them from behind. A blackness he’d only met few times before in his life settled on the edge of his vision.

Feeling more scared then he’d ever felt before, he threw caution to the wind and panicked. He opened his mouth and let out a wet and throaty bellow that was abruptly cut off by something filling his airways. He choked again and then vomited red, gasping for air and feeling warmth spread across his limbs and wet seep from every part of him. It was warm, too warm, and it felt like he was sweating buckets of water from every pour in his body. He looked to the ground as it gathered his perspiration and wasn’t at all surprised to see that it too was red. Had his vision taken a tint of some kind? He was soaked in it; the entire floor was nearly covered as well. The hand he wasn’t holding up reached down to touch the sticky substance and he felt sick with realization. Red…blood? Feeling strangely surreal and stupid, his instincts had him quickly glance upwards towards the clock.

Any curse he would have uttered died on his lips as the tunnel in his eyes grew narrower. His vision was now almost completely gone and Snapes cool voice was drifting further away from him much to Harry's chagrin. He couldn’t breathe now, it was over. His lungs were brimming with what he now knew to be blood. His blood. And instead of ominous black in his vision he saw red and green fighting for dominance. The symbolism did not escape him though the message was obscure. Hermione’s shrill yell, which had begun to sound remarkably like his mothers, faded to the background and a deep chilling laugh replaced it.

Harry felt his limbs go numb, a fuzzy feeling as if his whole body had fallen asleep on him, and cold seeped into him to replace any warmth he had felt earlier. Had he bleed himself dry? He recalled faintly that he’d vowed to himself not to fall asleep. To sleep would ultimately be the worst possible thing that could happen to him.

As he sunk into the comforting folds of red and gold he realized that he was no longer in control of his own body. His hand, which was still stretched out towards the kneeling Snape, twitched and moved on its own accord and before Harry had time to think something settled in his place and he felt himself forcibly pushed back into a void where nothing and everything could ever reach him. He grasped wildly at the only memory that seemed of real importance. One look at the clock had told him all he needed to know. Four minutes was all it took for a monster to take over. He closed his mind to the darkness and fell….

’~’~’~’~’~’~’~’~’~’

Harry’s hand twitched and moved faster than it had ever moved before. In one smooth motion he had drawn his wand and was pointing it right between Severus Snape’s eyes. Snape froze and looked, for all he was, like a deer caught in headlights, unable to move an inch and unable to think clearly.

Harry lifted his bloody face and met Snape's shocked black eyes with his cold red ones. “Severus?” He hissed. Snape barely had the presence of mind to nod slightly, still unable to get himself to move. Harry stood up from the floor as though he’d never fallen and stretched his body up towards the ceiling as though marveling in that ability alone.

“I could…get used to this I suppose,” said Harry, aiming his wand at the wall opposite and blasting a hole in it. “The wand is powerful as well….”

Hermione and Ron’s mouths had dropped open. Neville had fallen to the floor in a dead faint. Snape remained kneeling on the floor still unable to move. Draco Malfoy, the only sane person in the room, made a mad dash for the dungeon door but skid to a halt as it closed with a bang. Gulping he turned around to find hideous glowing red eyes fixed on him.

He knew it wasn’t Harry Potter anymore. He’d gathered that much when Harry had doubled over in pain and had come back up with red eyes, blood trailing down his face from his scar, and his face paler that Draco had ever seen it. He had known when Potter began to sweat red and vomit blood that he was not going to be "Potter" for much longer. Seeing Harry Potter cry tears of blood had been enough to make someone as painfully coward-like as Draco Malfoy know better still to run than to fight.

But for some reason he had stayed. And for some reason he couldn’t help but still see Harry Potter. And for some stupid reason, he was about to do what no sane person would ever do. Okay, maybe there wasn’t anyone in the dungeons who was sane tonight.

“Potter…scared of a little blood?” Draco sneered while he said it too because frankly that’s all he could think of doing. He knew he was hardly making sense, silly really, Potter SHOULD have been afraid of that much blood. This was most certainly not something he’d ever been confronted with before. He knew, before the words were even out of his mouth that he shouldn’t have played with fire, knew and yet his pride told him otherwise. If Draco had had time, which he’d find himself doing later anyways, he would have told his pride to sod off. As it was....

Harry eyes flashed, his wand moved an inch and Draco Malfoy was wrapped in purple light and knew no more.

Snape jumped to his feet and would have ran to Draco had he not been stopped by a curse that he barely managed to duck, putting him further away from Draco. Snape stood up quickly and focused on Harry.

Harry was looking at Snape without emotion, “Not only did I not say that anyone was welcome to leave…I did not give anyone permission to move either. You would do well to remember such things, servant….” whispered Harry, knowing full well that he had the attention of everyone except the unconscious in the room. Harry reveled in it; he was born to stand out.

“Do you…know who I am?” Harry was looking at Snape still, who was looking at Harry’s nose instead of his eyes and thinking as quickly as he could, but the question was meant for the others in the room. “I know who you two are…I know who both boys are that lay on this floor. I should kill you both just because He values you.” Harry smiled and turned to Ron and Hermione who still had their mouths open in shock.

“But I won’t, I need you. You may yet be of use to me. Here’s the deal my soon to be servants,” began Harry in a drawl, “I’m going to fix young Harry Potter’s body so that he looks…as normally as the famous Boy-Who-Won’t-Die can look. You two aren’t going to even so much as peep a word about this. In fact, you’re going to make sure I’m more Boy-Who-Lived like than ever before.” He looked them each in the eyes and Hermione began to cry. Ron wrapped an arm around her for her comfort as much as his own. Harry raised a lip in disgust but continued, “Harry Potter is gone.” Hermione sobbed and clutched at Ron. Ron looked at Harry angrily…but his gaze softened as he realized that he was looking at his best friend.

Harry chuckled, clearly amused by both the agony and the sentimentality. How wonderful to have someone who cared so much for his body. “Severus is already a loyal servant of mine,” Harry sent Snape a look that was almost lovingly tender, like a proud parent would give a child. Snape stiffened and cleared himself of all emotions already working a plan into motion.

“I could make you both powerful,” continued Harry in an enthralling voice, “You would love me more than you already love my body. You could have everything you’ve ever desired.” Harry’s face, already accustom to the other person who’d taken over, was torturously wonderful to look at. The Dark side certainly made Harry look lovely, even with blood all over him. Ron’s glare continued to falter and Hermione didn't dare look at Harry at all. She sobbed her heart out into Ron’s already soaked sleeve. “Join me.” Finished Harry in a tempting voice. He looked more powerful than ever saying those two words. Even Snape was tempted to join him all over again. Snape shook his head, remember his vows, and moved swiftly into action.

His wand was out in a heartbeat and curses were flying from it sooner than that. Harry’s eyes narrowed and he twisted quickly, quicker than Harry Potter had ever moved, and not one curse hit him. His own wand remained lowered at his side and he held it in a way that only the Dark Lord Voldemort would touch a wand. He cocked his head and circled around Snape in an almost curious manner.

“I have clearly miscalculated you Severus. What are your motives? Exactly what are you trying to accomplish?” Harry, who circled him like he was pray, whispered the words as though they were a symphony. Snape stood still and hoped that the two idiot children could take a hint. Knowing them he’d probably have to spell it out for those two particular Gryffindors. Merlin, why couldn’t Granger be in Ravenclaw?

But from the corner of Snapes eye he could easily spot the two Gryffindors giving each other looks. Snape could only hope that they’d be able to think of something.

“I am in front of Dumbledore’s children and inside his walls master…it would be unwise to let this happen-” A glare from Harry cut him off and Snape couldn’t help but notice that a faint tint of green shone behind those red eyes. He didn’t dare hope of course, but maybe Potter could actually pull through for once. Was it the moving around? Perhaps it was the casting of spells? Or maybe it was only a matter of time….

Snape glanced quickly at the clock. It was eleven forty three; class had ended thirteen minutes ago. Potter was taken in almost four minutes exactly. It had been nine minutes since the Dark Lord had taken over Potters mind. Did Potter look a little more ill than he did nine minutes ago?

Harry wiped a bit of sweat off his brow and Snape mentally gaped. It WAS time! The longer they held out the more tired Harry would get. Snape made up his mind in an instant, unwilling to drag it out anymore than necessary for fear of someone getting hurt. He would have to speed up the process.
Snape fell into a distinct fighting stance and followed Harry movements with his eyes. Harry in turn, narrowed his eyes. “So you have betrayed me then Severus? Were you the spy?” Harry suddenly grinned looking every bit the maniac that his was. Snape said nothing concentrating fully on what he intended to do.

He needn’t have bothered.

Hermione raised her wand at Harry with tears in her eyes and concentrated hard. Snape was distracting Harry well enough to where she would be able to take the time to do it properly. The spell itself had no words. The importance of the spell was intent. The white light that burst from Hermione’s wand hit Harry hard in the back and he immediately toppled forward into Snape. Snape caught him and they both sank to the ground in each other’s arms. Snape didn’t bother with asking what spell Hermione used.

Snape, panting slightly, looked up at the two Gryffindors, who’d slowly made their way over, and nodded gratefully. With a bit of difficulty he turned Harry over so they could see his face. The boy was breathing, thank Merlin, but his eyes did not move beneath his eye lids. The dead mind spell would never allow its host to dream. In fact, the host wasn’t even allowed sleep. The mind was not at rest under this spell, instead it was frozen. No thoughts would pass through; no action would meet with Harry’s brain until he was released from it. It would not harm the host, but it would not fix any of their problems either.

Snape gently lifted one of Harry’s eyelids and sighed in relief. Green, the purest green he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. They were more intensely green than before and Snape really did hope that that was a good thing. Harry scar was still bleeding but not as profoundly as before. Doing a diagnostic spell with his wand Snape began to asses that Harry’s injuries weren’t life threatening, minus an extreme amount of blood loss. Snape did a quick stabilizing spell on him then looked up at the two Gryffindors and stared into each of their eyes with a look that was scary in its intensity.

“Get Professor Dumbledore.”

When Dumbledore came he would find to his greater shock that Severus Snape did not lay Harry Potter down on the ground but cradled his fragile figure in his arms the entire time it took for Dumbledore to reach the two.