Seasons of Love by Stump_Pan
Summary: How different would things be if Snape went to pick up Harry instead of Hagrid?

Snapshots of how things might have been through all seven years by season.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape, Teacher Snape > Professor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Fred George, Hermione, Luna, McGonagall, Neville, Remus, Sirius
Snape Flavour: Canon Snape, Snape is Loving, Snape is Stern
Genres: Canon, General
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Snape-meets-Dursleys
Takes Place: 1st summer before Hogwarts, 1st Year, 2nd summer, 2nd Year, 3rd summer, 3rd Year, 4th summer, 4th Year, 5th summer, 5th Year, 6th summer, 6th Year, 7th summer, 7th Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Character Death, Profanity, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 30 Completed: Yes Word count: 207949 Read: 116904 Published: 10 Feb 2017 Updated: 02 Sep 2017
Winter 1993 by Stump_Pan

Much to the Gryffindors' relief, Professor Lupin was back in class for their next meeting. He was immediately overwhelmed by his students' complaints about their substitute's handling of the class. Voice over voice tried to be heard of the unjustness.

"Two feet.."

"Werewolves..."

"A week's detention..."

Professor Lupin raised his hand trying to quiet the class. "You don't have to do the essay," he promised. "I'll have a word with Professor Snape about it."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, that was all, except Hermione.

"I've already done it," she moaned.

“Professor Lupin,” Harry asked walking up to the desk at the end of the lesson.

“How can I help you, Harry?” Lupin said shutting his battered leather case.

“You said you could help me with the Dementors.  I was wondering when we could start our lessons.”

Lupin looked more tired than usual.  “I’m sorry, Harry.  We will have to wait until after the holidays.  I fell ill at a rather unfortunate time.  I need to catch up with the lesson and will be away for the break.”

“Yes sir,” Harry said resignedly, “I understand.”

“Don’t worry, Harry.  We’ll have you in top shape before you play your next match.” Lupin reassured with a tired smile.

Harry gave his own weak smile, “Yes sir.”

“What was that about?” Neville asked. 

“You weren’t trying to see if he would sign your Hogsmeade form were you?” Hermione demanded. 

Harry shook his head, “Of course not. Even if I did, there’s no way McGonagall would accept it.  She was pretty mad at me for asking Professor Snape.  I don’t know if she knew about me staying with him.”

“I think she would,” Neville guessed.  “She’s the one who sends out the letters every summer.”

Harry frowned. “Dumbledore brought my letter this summer when he came to talk to Professor Snape.”

Neville shrugged, “Still.”

“Maybe,” Harry agreed. 

“If you didn’t ask him to sign your form, what did you ask him about?” Hermione asked.

“I wanted to know when we could start our Dementor lessons,” Harry explained.  “I want to start as soon as possible.”

“What did he say?” Hermione asked uneasily.

“He said we can’t start until after the holidays,” Harry said. “Why?”

Hermione shook her head, “No reason.”

Harry looked at his friend.  There was something she wasn’t saying.  “What is it, Hermione?”

“It’s nothing,” Hermione insisted.  “I’m just tired.  It will be nice to have a bit of break, won’t it?”

Harry watched his friend carefully over the next several classes. She seemed to have developed an odd sort of discomfort around the Defense instructor. She was more hesitant to answer questions in his class, something she had never done in the entire time he knew her. He tried to ask her what was wrong, but she always avoided answering his question directly. She blamed it on being tired. She was taking more classes than anyone else.

In addition to taking Care of Magical Creatures and Divination with Harry and Neville, she was taking Muggle Studies (much to Harry's confusion as she was Muggle-born), Arithmancy, and Ancient Ruins. How she managed to get to all her classes was another thing that confused Harry. Half of her Muggle Studies were at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures, but according to Ernie McMillan, she had never missed one class of Muggle Studies. Harry knew for a fact she hadn't missed Care of Magical Creatures. Hermione was even more vague about her answer about that.

Even with all of her classwork Hermione was still helping Harry and Neville with their research in the defense of Buckbeak. Harry tried to help as much as possible, but he had Quidditch practice three nights a week. He was using an old school broom at the moment. He would have to buy a new one soon, but he still couldn't bring himself to do it.

Snow arrived a heavy coating covered the castle and the grounds. Hagrid brought in salamanders, fire-loving lizard-like animals. All they had to do for the class was make sure the fire was well stoked, a task happily done on a cold blustery day. The giant was in a better mood, hopeful about Buckbeak's upcoming trial. He was sure there was no way they could lose not with all the research the three had put in. The hippogriff's trial was on the first day of winter holidays.

The last day of term came with another trip to Hogsmeade. Harry once again said goodbye to his friends at the door. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the day.  He was looking forward two weeks without any classwork, so he wasn’t going to do homework. Dumbledore said that Dementors weren’t to be fooled by invisibility cloaks, so that wasn’t an option. He really wished he could go to the village.

The twins presented Harry with the desired escape.  They gave him a map, the Marauder’s Map, which showed not only the rooms of the castle, the names and locations of everyone in there, but seven secret passages in and out of the grounds.  Fred and George steered Harry away from the three they believed the caretaker Filch knew about.  They pointed out an entrance through a statue of a witch on the third floor.  Harry would only need to tap the witch’s hump and he could enter the tunnel that ended in the cellar of Honeydukes Sweetshop.   The twins left the map with Harry with the strict instructions to say, “Mischief Managed”, or anyone could read it. 
  
Harry couldn't contain his excitement. He barely checked the coast was clear before jumping down the witch's hump and running all the way down the long tunnel. He should have thought to return to the Tower for his Cloak of Invisibility, or at least his coat, hat, and gloves. He was able to find Hermione and Neville with surprising ease. They were in the sweets shop when he arrived.

Hermione was worried that if Black were to show up Harry would be in danger. Harry argued he would have a hard time finding him in the see of students doing their Christmas shopping. Still, she wanted him to go to Professor Dumbledore with the map in case that was how the fugitive was entering the grounds. If he wouldn't go to Dumbledore to at least tell Professor Snape. If Harry told Professor Snape he snuck out of the castle and into the village he Harry would spend every weekend for the rest of his time at Hogwarts scrubbing down the loos with a toothbrush. Where was Hermione's Christmas spirit?

The cold, biting weather cut short their sightseeing, with Harry lack of proper clothing. The trio decided the best thing to do was get a warm drink at the Three Broomsticks. Neville went to get them drinks while Harry and Hermione found them a small table tucked away near the large joyfully decorated Christmas tree. It was hard to find anyone in the busy establishment, but when Hagrid entered he was hard to miss, so too were his company, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and the Minister of Magic.

The new group came and sat just on the other side of the tree. Hermione forced Harry under the table so they couldn't possibly see him. Neville joined them as they listened to the Minister discuss the matter of Dementors in the village and the escape of Sirius Black with the owner of the pub, Madam Rosmerta.

She remembered Peter Pettigrew, a dumpy little boy whose friends were far more talented, an observation attested to by his professors. She also remembered who Black's best friend was, James Potter. Black was the Potter's Secret-Keeper, he alone was responsible for knowing the location of where Harry and his family lived. The only Voldemort could know was if Black told him. If that was not hard enough to hear, it turned out Black was Harry's godfather as well.

Harry didn't remember getting back to the castle that afternoon. He went straight to bed when he did pretending to be asleep when Neville came to check on him hours later. Harry kept twisting over what he heard all night. He even found the pictures of Black and Pettigrew in his album. He had never paid much mind to them before.

The next morning Harry woke late, the rest of the boys already gone on the train. Even fewer students stayed for the holidays this year as their parents worried about their safety. Neville wanted to stay but his grandmother demanded he come home.  She was scared the security of the class would be even laxer with fewer students to protect.  Neville had spent a week owling back and forth about his ability to stay before she finally agreed after getting several concessions from the Headmaster. This would be his first Christmas away from home.

Harry was angry. Why hadn't anyone told him it was Black's fault Harry had no parents? Why had no one mention he had a godfather? How many people knew about all of this?

Harry wanted to demand answers from anyone that could possibly answer. Hagrid was one of the first that came to mind. But all that was driven out of their minds once they heard the results of Buckbeak's trial. Hagrid lost, if he didn't win the appeal, Buckbeak would be executed.

The three friends spent the next week either visiting with Hagrid or doing more research. The days blended into one another as they went even deeper into trying to save their friend's pet's life. It was only when they came down the stairs on Christmas morning and a large pile of gifts lay under the tree, Harry realized what day it was.

Hermione gave him a large box of chocolate frogs. From Neville, he received a book on the Quidditch teams of England and Northern Ireland. Mrs. Weasley sent him his normal sweater, green this year featuring a golden snitch across his chest. Harry put aside the package of rock cakes from Hagrid.

There was one last package with Harry's name on it. There was no note, no card, just the simply wrapped box. Harry excitedly pulled back the paper and the lid of the box. Inside was the most beautiful broom Harry had ever seen. Not a single twig was out of place. Golden letters down the handle spelled out, "Firebolt". Harry knew that this was one of the best brooms ever to be sold.

"Who sent it?" Neville asked.

“I don't know. There wasn't a note." Harry said walking around the broom as it hovered at perfect mounting height.

"This is a rather good broom," Hermione observed.

"It's the best in the world," countered Harry.

"So who would get it for you?" Hermione asked once more.

"Professor McGonagall," Neville offered, "she's nearly as mad you win the Quidditch Cup this year as Wood."

Harry shook his head. "She said she might be able to get me a Nimbus 2001, like Malfoy. Anyway, she only got me one the last time because I was the first year."

"Dumbledore likes you," Neville tried again. "He gave you your cloak."

"That was already mine, he was just borrowing it," Harry objected. "We know it's not from Lupin," Harry said with a laugh.

"No," Hermione agreed uneasily, "It wouldn't be."

Harry tore his gaze away from his new broom for a moment. He still didn't know what was causing the girl's sudden uneasy with the professor.

"I don't think it's a good idea to ride that now, Harry," Hermione said.

"What? Why?" Harry demanded.

"We don't know who sent it. What if somebody wanted to hurt you?"

"Like who?"

A heavy silence hung between the two.

“How could Sirius Black get Harry a broom?" Neville finally asked.

Hermione shrugged, "We order things through the post all the time.  Harry, he could have jinxed it to throw you off."

"That's ridiculous!" Harry snapped. “We’re not murders on the run, Hermione.”

“Harry, please,” Hermione begged. 

Christmas dinner was a tense affair with Harry not wanting to talk to Hermione. Neville sat awkwardly between his two friends, trying to get them to engage in conversation. When Professor McGonagall came and confiscated the broom so it could be checked that it wasn't cursed Harry stopped speaking to Hermione altogether. He still wasn't speaking to her when the rest of the students returned from the holidays.

Wood was annoyed to hear that Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. Harry explained why and Wood promised to discuss the matter with Professor McGonagall. Ron too was offended that Hermione would turn over a brand new Firebolt to be "stripped down", what if it did throw Harry off. How could somebody do something like that to a gorgeous new broom?

~~~*****~~~*****~~~*****~~~


Harry was glad to hear Professor Lupin was ready to start their Dementor lessons on Thursday evening. He needed a distraction especially when Wood said that he wasn't able to get Harry's new broom back. Even though he didn't know what to expect Harry was looking forward to the lessons.

Harry walked into the Charms classroom about ten minutes early he lite the torches and waited. He looked at the posters Professor Flitwick had hung up demonstrating different charms. He was starting to wonder if Professor Lupin was coming when the door behind Harry opened. The man had a large battered case under one arm.

"Good evening Harry," he greeted warmly setting the case on top of Professor Flitwick's desk.

"Good evening," Harry replied looking at the case.

"Ahhh... Yes...this is what we'll be using to practice," Professor Lupin explained as he ran a hand over the old worn leather. "Now Harry, I must warn you the magic we are going to try here tonight is far beyond Ordinary Wizarding Levels. There are many fully qualified wizards that aren't able to do this."

"But I have to try," Harry insisted, "What if they come to the next match?"

"Yes, I understand. I simply felt I needed to ensure you knew how difficult is what we'll be trying to do here."

Harry nodded, "Okay, so what do I have to do?"

Lupin removed his wand, "The incantation is 'Expecto Petronum'."

"Expecto Petronum'," Harry repeated.

Lupin smiled softly, "Very good. Now a properly conjured Patronus will defend you from a Dementor."

"What do they look like?" Harry asked excited, brain coming up with giant shields the size of Hagrid.

"Each is unique to the witch or wizard that creates it," Professor Lupin said. "But saying the words is not enough, you'll need to think of a happy memory to go along with it."

Harry frowned, a happy memory? Obviously, anything that happened at the Dursleys was out. He decided on the first time he ever flew a broom.

"Now try it without the Dementor," Lupin encouraged.

"Expc...Expecto Petromem...Sorry..."

"Take your time," Lupin reassured.

"Expecto Petronum," Harry tried once more and a thin silver cloud burst out of his wand. "I did it."

"You ready to try? On the count of three..."

Harry nodded, his palms sweaty in anticipation. "Expecto Petronum... Expecto Petronum..." Harry muttered as Professor Lupin pulled back the lid of the case.

The room went cold, the torches extinguished.

"Expecto Pec...Expecto... Expecto Petronum."

There was a cold high-pitched laugh, the screaming, "Not Harry! Please! Not Harry! Take me. Please, not Harry." ,

The cold high different d voice, "Stand aside you silly girl."

"Please, not Harry..."

"Harry. Harry," a different voice said this time.

Harry realized he was flat on his back on the floor. The torches were lit once more. Lupin helped Harry groggily sit up.

"That's one heck of a Dementor," Harry groaned

"That wasn't a Dementor. It was a Boggart. If it was a Dementor you would have collapsed as soon it was in the room," Lupin said crouching next to Harry. He removed a chocolate frog and handed it to the teen. "Eat this before we go again."

Harry shoved half of the chocolate into his mouth. The cold sweat on his back easing, warmth returning to the tips of his fingers.

"Harry, what was the memory you chose?" Lupin asked standing back up.

Harry pushed back his sweaty hair, "The first time I rode a broom."

Lupin shook his head, "No wonder you collapsed. That's not happy enough, not nearly happy enough."

"Oh," Harry said softly. He finished the frog as he tried to come up with another happy memory. He decided that Gryffindor winning the House Cup at the end of his first year was probably one of the happiest times he could remember. He stood back up.

"Ready for another go?" Lupin asked.

Harry nodded. The lid was pulled back once more...

Hard tried to ignore the screaming in his ears. "Expecto...Expecto Petronum..."

Everything was cold and dark once more.

"Not Harry! Please! Not Harry! Take me. Please, not Harry."

The cold high different d voice, "Stand aside you silly girl."

"Please! Not Harry."

"Go, Lily! He's here..."

It was all black…

Harry felt his professor shaking his shoulder again.

"I heard my dad," Harry said sitting up again.

"You heard James?" Lupin asked softly.

Harry nodded, "Did you know him too?"

Lupin smiled, "I did we were in the same year at school."

Harry grinned as he took another frog from his teacher. He didn’t know much about his dad. Professor Snape mentioned him on occasion, but normally when Harry had done something idiotic and Gryffindor. Other people said that he looked a lot like his dad, but that didn’t mean much he didn’t know what he was like.

“Really? What was he like?” Harry asked excitedly.

Lupin grinned, “James was incredibly brave. He was an excellent flyer, just like you.  He also played Seeker.  He had a penchant for trouble. From what I hear, you seem to have inherited that from him.”

Harry could see that the man wanted to say more, but there was something stopping him. Harry just wasn’t sure what.  Maybe it was the same thing that stopped Professor Snape when he talked about Harry’s mum.

“Do you want a try another go tonight, Harry?” Lupin asked after a moment.

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry said readying himself once more.

“Three...Two... One…” the lid opened once more.

“Expecto Petronum!” Harry tried again, a wisp of silver smoke came out of his wand the laughter and screaming weren’t overpowering this time, more like it was coming through a poorly tuned radio.  Harry forced the Dementor back into the case.

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” Lupin said snapping shut the lid of the case. He removed a large bar of Honeyduke’s chocolate.  “Make sure you eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will have my skin.”

Harry chuckled, “Yes sir. Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Harry. I will see you in class tomorrow,” Lupin said picking up his case once more. “I have a cabinet in my office that I think he’ll like between lessons.”

Harry nodded and headed back to the Tower munching on the chocolate Lupin gave him. He had managed to produce a wisp of a Patronus.  It would never scare off a real Dementor, maybe not even give him enough time to land, but it was only his first lesson.  But Harry had, to be honest with himself, no matter how much he hated it, he wanted to hear his parents again.

“What are you doing, Potter?” Professor Snape demanded.

“Just going back to the Tower, sir,” Harry said shoving the last bit of chocolate into his pocket.

“Out a bit late, did you manage to get detention already.”

Harry shook his head, “No sir, Professor Lupin is helping me. He’s giving me Dementor lessons.”

Snape raised a curious eyebrow.

“Er...He’s teaching me to cast a Patronus,” Harry clarified.

“I see,” Snape said softly. “Get back to your house, Potter. It’s almost curfew.”

Harry rushed off once again wondering what made the two professors not like each other so much. Harry watched the two men the next morning at breakfast. He was right, Snape glared at Lupin more than usual. Harry shook his head and went back to his breakfast.
 
~~~*****~~~*****~~~*****~~~


Apparently, Hermione now thought like Snape, that in and of itself concerned Harry.  She made little sounds of displeasure when she heard Harry telling Neville about his Dementor lessons. She wouldn't what had caused her sudden change of heart though.
 
When Harry finally demanded after yet another disapproving tut, her response was, "I don't think it's such a good idea being alone with him."
 
"Why?" Harry snapped.
 
"It's it obvious?" She said before storming off once more.
 
Harry turned to Neville who only shrugged. The two spent less time with her since Professor McGonagall came and took Harry's broom. But even so, they could tell she was increasingly on edge the pressure of her studies catching up with her. She could normally be found in one corner of the Common Room books piled high around her. She would snap at anyone that tried to disturb her. She worked into the late night to complete all of her assignments. Still, Harry was trying to figure out how she did it. How could she be in two places at once?
 
Harry liked his Dementors lessons. He was getting better. He wasn't collapsing anymore and he could now produce a Patronus every time, but wanted to still do better. It still didn't have a true form or chase down the Boggart-Dementor. Harry chastised himself, he would never get any better if he still halfheartedly wanted to hear his parents.
 
"Thank goodness you're here," Neville said meeting his friend at the top of the stairs returning from his latest Dementor practice.
 
"What's wrong Neville?" Harry asked.
 
"That mad painting won't let me into the Tower," Neville explained.
 
"I thought you had all of this week's passwords written down," Harry asked.
 
The painting of Sir Cadogan replaced The Fat Lady while she was repaired. The rather balmy knight enjoyed coming up with complicated passwords that were hard for anyone to remember, it was practically impossible for Neville with his horrible memory for that sort of thing.
 
"I can't find it," Neville moaned.
 
"It's no problem. The current password is 'flibbity gibit.'”
 
They walked back to the portrait, Harry cut off Sir Cadogan with the password before he could say anything about Neville. A group of students stood in the center of the room.
 
"What's that all about?" Neville asked.
 
"Can I have a ride, Harry?" Seamus asked.
 
"Me too?" Ron asked. "I've never gotten to ride a new broom."
 
Wood brought Harry over his Firebolt. "Professor McGonagall brought this back a few minutes, Potter. She wanted you to have a proper broom for the next match."
 
"Everything was fine?" Harry asked.
 
"Must have been if she gave it back," Fred said joining the crowd.
 
The excitement of the crowd lasted late into the night. Harry knew he should apologize to his friend but he couldn't find her in the common room. Lavender told him that she had gone to bed early.
 
Harry followed his roommates upstairs when Percy came down to chase them all to bed. They were woken up only a few hours later by Ron screaming. He had woken up to Sirius Black standing over him with a large knife.
 
The professors had escorted everyone to the Great Hall once more. He had gotten into the Tower with the passwords. A furious Professor McGonagall banned Neville from any future visits to the village. The harder thing was he was not allowed to know the password, no one was allowed to give it to him either.
 
Harry didn't get a chance to speak with Hermione while the teachers checked the castle once more. Wood had decided that now their Seeker had a proper broom they needed an extra practice so Harry didn't get back to Gryffindor Tower until late the next evening.

“Harry,” Neville called as Harry came through the portrait hole. 

“What?” Harry asked.

“We need to talk to Hermione,” Neville told him. 

“Why?” Harry grumbled.  He still hadn’t forgiven her for getting his new broom confiscated. He didn’t have to wait very long to find out why.

“It was your bloody cat!” Ron yelled across the Common Room.

“There’s no way to know it was Crookshanks,” Hermione yelled back.

“He’s been after Scabbers since we got back after summer hols,” Ron countered.

“I don’t see why he’s complaining,” Fred said coming to join Harry and Neville. “He never liked that dumb rat.”

“He’s looked awful for ages, been losing weight since Egypt,” George added.

“Why does he think Hermione’s cat did it?” Neville asked.

Harry shrugged, “He does seem to be more focused on Scabbers than the other cats. He was always trying to sneak into our dorms.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” George agreed. “He’s pretty easy to recognizable with that smashed face.”

“You don’t care about anybody but you’re stupid cat. Nobody likes you,” Ron hollered.
 
Hermione couldn’t stand it anymore at went running up the stairs, tears streaming down her face.

“Oi! You git,” Fred said calling out his youngest brother.  “That was over the line, mate.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry her orange beast ate your dumb rat.  You never liked the dumb thing, but he’s in a better place now filled with custard tarts and plenty of comfortable places to nap,” George continued.

"Look, there's a Hogsmeade visit next weekend, you can get a new pet then."

"Yeah alright," Ron sulked and went up the opposite stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

"There's another Hogsmeade trip?" Harry asked.

"It's not like we can go," Neville pointed out.

"I wasn't supposed to go at Christmas either," Harry pointed out.

"How about you come with us," Fred offered. "You in Neville?"

The round-faced boy shook his head.

"Fine," Fred said with a shrug. "We'll meet you in Honeydukes then."

The morning of the trip arrived. Harry said goodbye to Hermione at the castle doors and the twins too with a wink. He checked the map and made his way up the corridor with the One-Eyed Witch. He just got the hump open when he heard steps behind him.  Harry dropped his cloak down the tunnel and shut the opening, spinning around to see who was coming.

Harry’s heart dropped, it couldn’t have been worse. In his haste, he hadn't noticed Professor Snape's name in the proximity.

"Potter! What are you doing here?" The man snapped as he came down the corridor his black robes flapping behind him like a great bat.

"Nothing," Harry said sounding like a small child caught with hand in the biscuit jar.

The man stared down his long nose at the boy. "Potter..."

“Nothing,” Harry insisted refusing to make eye contact with the teacher.

“Look at me,” Snape ordered. 

Harry looked up defiantly, his chest puffed out.  He hadn’t done anything wrong… yet.

Snape’s fiery onyx gaze burned into Harry.  The teen tried his best to stay calm.  He had not done anything wrong. There was no reason he could be in trouble for simply being in the corridor.  Still, Snape had a way of finding things out. 

“Stay here,” Snape ordered Harry as he inspected the One-Eyed Witch’s statue in great detail.  He ran his hand over the hump, muttering to himself.  The hump did not open.  Harry scuffed the toe of his right trainer on the stone floor as he watched his professor disappear behind trying to reveal the witch’s secrets.  After what felt like ages the man stood up straight once more.

“Come with me, Potter,” Snape ordered.

“What did I do?” Harry demanded. 

A stern look from the Potions Master quieted any further protests from the teen.  Harry followed the man silently down to the dungeons. 

“Empty your pockets, Potter,” Snape ordered.

“Sir,” Harry asked.

“I said empty your pockets.  If you have been in the castle you should have nothing to worry about.  Do not make me repeat myself.”

Harry hadn’t left the castle yet, but the contents of his pockets made his intentions clear.  He had his money bag full of coins destine for Zonko’s and Honeydukes and more importantly, the  Marauder's Map.  He was glad he had cleared before putting it in his pocket in preparation for entering the tunnel under the witch.  He pulled out the old parchment with great caution.

“Now, Potter,” Snape ordered.

Harry put the parchment on the table followed by a small sack of coins, a chocolate frog, and a broken quill.

“Is that all,” Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes sir,” Harry said patting his pockets.

“What’s this?” The man said picking up the Marauder’s Map, that was thankfully blank.

“Just a spare bit of parchment,” Harry said a little too quickly.

“It’s rather old to just be a spare bit of parchment,” Snape said looking it over once more. “If it’s only a spare bit of parchment you won’t mind if I burn…”

“No!” Harry said lunging forward.

Snape held it higher out of Harry’s reach.  “So, it’s more than a bit or parchment then.  What is it?”

“Nothing,” Harry said with a shrug.  But it was too late, his actions said exactly the opposite.

Snape removed his wand and ran it over the map, “Reveal your secrets!”

Nothing happened.

“I, Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, command you to reveal your secrets.” Snape tried again, his temper rising.

Harry held his breath as words began to appear before them.

“Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.”

Snape stood frozen, as he read the words.  But there was more…

“Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.”


Harry would have laughed if it wasn’t so serious.  And still, there was more….

“Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.”


Harry closed his eyes not sure if he could deal with anymore.  When he opened them there was one last line on the map...

“Mr. Wormtail bids, Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.”

“What... We’ll see about this….”  He crossed the room and threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. “Lupin, a word.”

Harry waited anxiously as they waited for the Defense professor to make his appearance.

“Severus,” Lupin greeted, “and Harry,” he said noticing the nervous teen.

“You’re supposed to be the expert in Dark objects, Lupin. Care to explain,” Snape said pointing to the map still sat in the center of the desk.  “Obviously this is serious dark magic.”

Lupin looked it over, Harry thought he might be trying not to laugh. “Serious dark magic,” He said standing up again.  “No, this looks more like a Zonko’s product to me.  It’s designed to insult anyone who looks over I expect.”

“Zonko’s?  The asinine names of the authors are surprisingly familiar. Is it not more likely that the boy inherited it from one of them?” Snape asked coldly.

“Inherit?  From whom, Severus? Lily and James’ house was destroyed after the attack by Voldemort.” Professor Lupin scoffed, “Why not simply ask the boy?”

The men looked at Harry who said nothing.  The boy stared back, unsure what to say.  He couldn’t tell them that it was his friends. Harry sighed in relief as some knocked on the door.

“Professor Snape,” a first or second year Slytherin said coming into the room.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones." Lupin greeted warmly.

“Uhhh...Hello, sir,” the boy said nervously.  “I can come back.”

“No. No, don’t let us keep you.” Lupin waved the boy off.  “I’ll be taking this, Severus. As you say, it is my area of expertise. Come along, Harry,” the professor instructed.  

Harry could feel the Potions’ Master’s dark eyes boring into the back of his head until they made it to the first floor, even if he had never actually left his office. Harry followed Lupin into a small chamber off the main hall. 

“I don’t care how you got hold of this map,” Lupin said.  This was the angriest Harry had ever heard him. “Yes, I know it is a map.  I also am well aware Mr. Filch confiscated it many years ago.”

“How..” Harry began.

“I assume Severus caught you trying to sneak out of the castle and found this in your pockets.” 

Harry didn’t say a word. 

“So like James,” Lupin sighed. “How could you do this, Harry?  Your parents, some of my best friends gave up their lives so you could live.  This is how you chose to repay their sacrifice sneaking out of the castle to what? Buy a couple of cheap tricks and candies?  Is that all they mean to you?”

Harry stood there stunned.

“Go!” Lupin said pointing in the direction the stairs, “think about what your parents mean to you and what might have happened if Black had found you this afternoon.”

Harry still speechless left the man still standing in that small room. He didn’t stop when we got the Common Room, he continued straight to his dorm. He pulled the curtains on his bed, the photo album Hagrid gave him once more laying open in his lap.  He wasn’t trying to find his murderous godfather this time.  He ran a finger over the first photo, his parents dancing in a public park.    

Harry shook his head, trying to shake off his emotion.  How could he have been so stupid?  Lupin was right.  His parents were worth more than a trip to Hogsmeade.  How did Lupin know how to operate the map?  What did Snape mean did Harry inherit it?  Why would Lupin recognize those names?

“Harry?” Neville asked nervously.

Harry hesitated, “What is it, Neville?”

“Are you alright? I thought you were… you were going to sneak into the village.”

“I didn’t.” Harry sighed. 

“This is ridiculous,” Hermione huffed pulling back the curtains. 

“Oi, Hermione, you’re not supposed to be here,” Harry objected.

“Hermione he could have been indecent,” Neville added.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Don’t be ridiculous.  He’s just having a sulk.”  She sat on the edge of Harry’s bed. “What happened?”
 
“You’re right.  It was a horrible idea.” Harry admitted. “Anyways, Snape caught me.”

Neville gasped.  “How long are you in detention?”

“I’m not. I hadn’t left yet.”  Harry informed them.   
“You’re lucky he caught before you left the castle, not after,” Hermione said.  “You would have been lucky to only get detention.”  

Harry nodded, “He didn’t couldn’t prove I had done anything wrong.  He called Lupin to look at the map. Lupin knew exactly what it was.  He confiscated it.”

“How could he know about the map?”  Neville asked.

Harry shrugged, “Don’t know. Snape seemed to think I might have inherited it.  Who could that have been from?”

It was Neville’s turn to shrug. “The cloak used to be your dad’s.  Maybe he thought Dumbledore gave it to you too.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry shook his head. “He made it sound more like I got it from Lupin.”

Hermione tensed at the idea.

“What is it, Hermione?”  Harry demanded.

“Nothing,” the girl said dismissing Harry on the matter once more. “Why don’t we go see what’s for dinner?”

“Hey Harry,” Fred greeted.  “Where were you?”

Harry shook his head.  “Didn’t make it. Sorry.”

“As long as you didn’t get caught,” George said.

The three friends shared a look but did not correct the twins assumption.  Harry didn’t have detention or anything after all.  He had missed the last Hogsmeade trip of the year.  Now all there was to look forward to was Quidditch and the end of term.

The End.


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