The Honeymoon's Over, Mr. Potter

Chapter One: Letters

Saturday, 1 June 1996

In a house, nearly identical to every other house on the street, lived a perfectly ordinary family. Vernon Dursley was the very proud owner of a perfectly normal house, in a perfectly normal neighborhood. His wife, Petunia, was a homemaker with the ordinary hobby of glancing out the window and spying on the neighbors.

Their son, Dudley, was, according to his parents, a fine young man, with very nice friends, with whom he had tea every night. They were sure that he came home late every night because he was walking home some damsel in distress ("My Duddikins is such a gentleman"). They never allowed themselves to see Dudley bullying the neighborhood children, vandalizing the park swings, spraying graffiti on the underpass ("Little hooligans, good thing Dudley was brought up to be a proper young man"), and smoking marijuana with his friends and their girlfriends, who would have horrified Petunia with their crass language, short skirts, and caked make-up. His parents refused to acknowledge their son as anything less than perfect, holding steadfast to their belief that Dudley was a proper young man from a good neighborhood, where not even the grass dared grow the wrong way.

However, there was one thing - or rather, person - who did not fit in to this perfect life at all, and this irritated the normal, nice people in the neighborhood. This person was as far from normal as could be, with his six-sizes-too-large, hand-me-down clothes, round glasses, and messy hair. However, the least normal thing about him was the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.

As most already know, special people are never normal, and this person was no different, for Harry Potter was special in many ways. Not only was he a cauldron-stirring, broom-flying, wand-waving wizard; he was also one of the most famous and highly recognized and respected (or, in some cases, reviled) faces in the wizarding world. Not many fifteen year old wizards could duel the most evil wizard in the last century and walk away, or survive said evil wizard's assassination attempts nearly every year since he reentered the wizarding world. In short, Harry Potter was special in a sea of special people.

Not that it helped him much now, of course. The events in the Department of Mysteries nearly broke our hero emotionally, and in this case, Harry faced the most danger from himself.

'Why did it have to be Sirius?' Cut. Cut. 'How could I be so stupid?' Slash. Slash. 'Moron, Idiot, MURDERER'. Slash. Slash. Cut. Cut. Slash. 'Oh dear, it won't stop bleeding...I'll ruin my t-shirt...then again, it doesn't really matter, it's not like it was mine to begin with...but people will see, and I refuse to be weak... They expect me to save the world...how can I do that when I can't save my godfather?' The last thing Harry remembered was pushing his head into his meager pillow to sob as quietly as possible before he finally fell asleep...

**********

Harry was running down the hall to the Department of Mysteries. The doors in the circular room began to spin. "Where's Sirius?" Harry shouted, almost as if he were an actor in a play he'd never seen before - he was saying the words, but at the same time, he didn't intentionally say anything. The doors stopped spinning, and the one in front opened... 'Oh no, not this room.' The Death Chamber in all its morbid glory was revealed to Harry, and he found himself right in front of the veil.

"Why did you kill me? I thought you loved me; I wanted to see you grow up, take you away, and this is how you repay me? I wish you'd died with your parents..." Sirius continued to shout, but Harry could no longer hear him, and suddenly the scene changed, and Harry started in shock at the sight of his six-year-old self.

"Hello, are you here to rescue me?" the younger Harry asked.

"Who do you need rescuing from?" the older Harry responded.

"I don't like the dark. There are monsters here...they live in the closet, you know. Uncle Vernon says that's why I'm here, so the monsters will take me away and leave them in peace." All this was said in a purely factual tone, without any indication that the younger Harry disbelieved it.

"Don't worry, I'll save you. What do you need me to do?" asked Older Harry.

"Defeat the monsters," said Little Harry, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"OK, where are they?" asked Older Harry.

"Up here," Little Harry responded as he tapped his head, and slowly lifted his shirt. Older Harry saw, to his horror, an exact replica of the cuts on his stomach.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap...

"Boy!"

"I have to go, please come back and save me, I don't like the dark," said Little Harry.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap...

***********

Harry woke up in a cold sweat, his adrenaline high and his mind racing. He knew he would not be able to go back to sleep, yet he was physically exhausted. He strained for signs that the Dursleys had awoken, yet heard nothing. Harry breathed a sigh of relief before he heard tapping again. This time, he recognized it as the sound of owls tapping at the window.

He let in the owls and found that of the three owls, he only recognized Hedwig. He petted her head and carried her to her water tray, where she gave a hoot of thanks and drank, while keeping one eye on the other owls.

The first owl was from Professor Dumbledore.

Dear Harry,

How are you? I apologize once again for any pain I may have caused you. I assure you that this was not my intent. All I can say, once again, is that everything I have done has been in your interest.

However, I am afraid you will not be able to leave your home before your birthday. The Order will, of course, be monitoring your neighborhood to ensure your safety and that of your family.

I realize you may not like your aunt and uncle, but it is necessary to live with them in order to ensure the blood protection, for their sake as well as yours.

On a similar note, I realize that you and Professor Snape have had your differences, but you really do need to learn Occlumency. Professor Snape has agreed to teach you again, beginning tomorrow.

I understand that it was a mistake last year to ignore you, so, should you have the need to speak with me, please owl me and I will make time to see you.

Albus Dumbledore

Order of Merlin, 1^st Class; Head Mugwump of the Wizengamot, Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, etc.

Harry laughed humorlessly. When he dissected his Headmaster's words, he ended up with this:

I'm trying to gain your trust so you will just accept that you can't leave your jail until I come and bail you out

We're watching you, don't misbehave.

I know you don't like your aunt and uncle, or want to stay there, but remember if you leave you're risking their lives. This is my attempt to play to your "saving people thing."

I know you and Snape hate eachother, but I will be sending him back to rape your mind, in order to be sure of your obedience and give us an idea of what we're up against.

Clearly I should have paid more attention to what was going on, you've gotten way too unmanageable. This is my attempt to "encourage" you to depend on me again.

Harry considered opening the second letter, but decided that if Snape was going to come over and pick through his memories, then he should wait.

Sunday, 2 June, 1996

After sleeping fitfully for a few hours, Harry dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He also thought he might tidy up a bit, but then thought, 'Professor Snape is like Aunt Marge - the more there is to criticize the happier he'll be. Besides, if he's sniping about that he won't be sniping about something else, and I don't care what he says about my room.' Instead, he opened his copy of Intermediate Transfiguration and read until he heard the door bell ring around noon. Even the door bell seemed to carry a bite of impatience. If that wasn't enough, his aunt's shriek up the stairs was enough to confirm it. Professor Snape had arrived. Taking a moment to control himself, Harry prepared himself for the onslaught that was Occlumency.

Seconds later, Snape stormed into Harry's room, raised an eyebrow at Dudley's broken toys, and said, "Well well, I see you can't manage to keep from ruining things, even at home."

"Good afternoon to you, too, Professor," Harry replied coolly, willing himself to keep his temper. This was where the cutting helped. Harry needed something to take his anger out on, and while flying had been taken away from him, this was something no one could take away. While Dumbledore could probably have him locked in a padded cell, Harry doubted he would bother. After all, Dumbledore sent him back to the Dursleys each year, so clearly, maintaining his sanity was not high on his list of priorities. Harry barely allowed a bitter smile to cross his face before he buried it. Case in point...

"Regardless of what you seem to think, this world does not revolve around you," Snape spat. "The Headmaster has forced me to waste my time in what has proved a fruitless attempt to teach you to clear your mind."

"Sod off, Snape," Harry said tiredly.

"Arrogant boy, what are you going to do...sic your mutt of a godfather on me? Oh wait, you can't." Snape's eyes glittered with triumphant malice.

New plan: Kill Snape, Dumbledore can't possible need a spy this badly. Harry was so angry he began to shake. He noticed the glass in the picture frames were beginning to shake, too.

"Careful, Potter, wouldn't want to call the Ministry down on you." Snape's eyes positively shone with glee. "I, on the other hand, am under no such restriction." He paused, Harry supposed for dramatic effect. "You know, if the Dark Lord captured you, I doubt he'd allow you to remain on your feet, especially since you spend most of the time during your confrontations running. He definitely would not leave you with your wand. So, let's do a practical exercise. Expelliarmus, Petrificus Totalis, Accio Wand. In fact, he might break a few of your bones first, too." Snape waved his wand and suddenly, with a sickening crack, Harry's arm broke, and with another wave, two ribs broke. "There we are, now let's see what pitiful defenses your incompetent mind can come up with. Legilimens!"

Harry's childhood memories began to flash in front of him: Dudley's gang chasing him, his uncle tossing him into the cupboard under the stairs. Suddenly the presence pulled out.

"Clear your mind, stupid boy, you aren't even trying."

"How do you want me to do that?"

"Just do it, incompetent little whelp. Legilimens!"

Harry could feel Snape penetrate his mind...it feels a lot like the Imperious Curse...that's it!..get him out of me...wonder why he's really here...no, no distraction, OUT, NOW! Harry focused on pushing Snape out of his mind, and with an almost audible crack, suddenly Harry began viewing Snape's memories. Flashes of what must have been Snape's childhood ended fairly quickly. Suddenly, Harry felt a huge burst between memories that he knew had to do with him, but wasn't sure what it was. Finally, Snape pushed him out, aggravating his broken arm.

"What did you see? How did you do that?" Snape looked livid. Gone was the triumph and smugness. All that was left was pure hatred.

"Well, I will not deny that was an improvement, not that it would take much...but still, even a little progress is worthy of praise for our little Golden Boy."

Harry was furious, and this overwhelmed his common sense. "Dumbledore would be furious if he knew you broke my bones."

"Dumbledore gave me permission, you impudent little whelp. Oh, stop sniveling and give me that, you stupid boy." He took Harry's arm, and with a painful wrench, put it back into place, and then fixed it with a wave of his wand. With another wave, his ribs were repaired.

"Get out."

"What are you going to do, Potter? Hold your breath? Legilimens." Once again, Harry treated it like the Imperious Curse, and once again, Snape's memories flew by.

********

"Harry must be taught Occlumency. As it is, he's a liability. We must train him so he can become an asset. I would do it, but I cannot risk it. Severus, you may do whatever necessary, but he must learn."

"Anything?"

"Anything, as long as I can claim plausible deniability. In other words, if I have to send Poppy over, I will be very upset."

*********

"What did you see, boy?" Snape demanded.

"You mean, other than my skull when my eyes rolled back in my head from the pain you caused?" Harry was furious, but thought it would be better to pretend he hadn't seen Snape's memory.

Snape looked at him as though he was weighing his options, until he seemed to come to a decision.

"Obliviate."

Chapter Two: You're a Mean One, Mr. Snape

Sunday, 2 June 1996

Once Snape left, the blank expression disappeared from Harry's face, to be replaced with a calculating one. I've had just about enough of people hitting me with that spell. Apparently being able to throw off the Imperious Curse helps me throw off other mind control curses. I can't decide whether to thank Barty Crouch for teaching me how to do it, or spit on his soulless shell for everything else he's done.

Perhaps it was that Snape was not an experienced Obliviator (unlikely, given his continued existence as a spy), or perhaps Harry's aptitude with throwing off mental control once again showed its benefits. Or, it could be that Snape's hatred detracted from his ability to focus. I'm lucky I'm not like Lockhart, with all that emotion in the spell. Whatever it was, in spite of the memory charm, Harry remembered enough that later, with a great deal of effort, he was able to unravel the rest of the spell. With that accomplished, he set to work on the large burst of memories. What he saw infuriated him.

"Come on Severus," a boy about Snape's age said. "We have OWLs next week. We should be studying."

"And you should have been a Hufflepuff," Snape replied tersely. "Now shut up. If you get us caught, you'll spend the rest of your life as a eunuch." The other boy gulped and kept his mouth shut.

Harry saw a first year Gryffindor walking down the hall, alone.

Snape stepped out. "Well, if it isn't a little Mudblood, all by herself."

The girl tried to run away, but the other boy shot a trip jinx at her and she fell over. Snape waved his wand, and the girl flew up, in the position Harry recognized from Snape's pensieve. In fact, the entire situation seemed all too familiar - a jeering bully, laughing sycophants, and crying victim.

"Who wants to see me take off the Mudblood's pants?" Luckily, the memory was cut off after that, though Harry's relief didn't last very long.

Snape, not much older than he had been in the memory Harry had seen in Snape's pensieve, knelt at the feet of a mostly human-looking, clearly younger Voldemort with red eyes and scaly skin.

"I, Severus Snape, pledge my magic, my loyalty, and my life to the Dark Lord known as Voldemort. Should I ever betray him to his enemies, may my life be short and my end painful. Let it be done." A burst of magic sealed the oath, and Harry swore, realizing the implications of what he'd just seen. That explains why Snape was our only spy in Voldemort's ranks.

It was clearly just after Snape's graduation, as he could be seen an academic robes, talking to a smaller, rat-faced boy in similar robes.

"I..I..don't know what you're talking about, Snivellus."

"Oh, come on, Pettigrew. You can honestly tell me you've never felt...inadequate? The Mudblood barely tolerates you, you can't keep a girlfriend. You're a pure-blood, you could do so much better," Severus Snape said smoothly. "Join us, and you can be so much better. Our master rewards the faithful, and the women are divine..."

"Really, how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"I had two women just last night, and three the night before, here's nothing quite like it, their screams were delightful, positively intoxicating; but then, I suppose you wouldn't know, would you?" Snape sneered.

"Why are you telling me this? Aren't you afraid I'll tell Dumbledore?"

"Hah - you'd be dead before you got the words out, besides, I was told that you might be more intelligent than Black or Potter, and you might like a chance to make something of yourself, out of their shadow, because we feel you could be a valuable addition to our cause." Snape continued with a sneer, "My master sees a lot of potential in you, potential that your so-called friends fear; they look down on you because they fear that you'll be better than they but tell me, you may call me Snivellus, but does anyone on the so-called light side respect you?" Peter seemed to be thinking this through and clearly came to a decision.

He nodded once and said, "I'll teach them to laugh at me, what do you want me to do?"

"Mainly keep the Dark Lord apprised of your friends' movements, important things that could help us, that sort of thing; you will of course be rewarded for your work."

"And I would get respect for joining?"

"We do not laugh at our brothers."

"Do I have to meet the Dark Lord?"

"Once at initiation, and then if you wish, we can have another Death Eater meet with you most other times, unless it's important and can't wait; either way, you will be well rewarded for your loyalty to the Dark Lord."

"And I can have whatever woman I want?"

"Two at once, if that is your wish."

"I want the Evans bitch to suffer, before we return her mangled body to Potter. Teach him to take what's mine."

"If that is your wish..."

Harry was furious. Even at seventeen Peter was a rodent. How dare he refer to my mother as a bitch? Wish I'd let Sirius and Remus kill the bastard. And Snape...that bastard. I can imagine what happened to those women. The thought was too disturbing to contemplate. Then it went to the next memory. This one made Harry want to rip Snape's guts out.

The night was dark, clearly a new moon. The only illumination was that of a bonfire.

At the center of the crowd of death eaters were, to Harry's amazement, James Potter and Sirius Black, both looking sick at the sight of whatever was in front of them. It must have been a few years since their graduation, and each looked ready to single-handedly tear the death eaters to bits. Voldemort and Peter were standing out of their sight, while Peter drank what appeared to be polyjuice potion. It was impossible to see what form he took on, as he was still concealed by the death eater robes and mask.

"Your reward for a job well done. Teach her the folly of crossing the real heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, do not kill her."

"But my Lord..."

"Crucio" Screams rang out through the night, "Dare you cross me? If you kill her you will wish you had died in her stead; however, I want her broken. It is a reward to participate in her breaking."

Peter approached her and lowered his hood. From what Harry could see, Peter had changed into... Oh God, he's changed into Dad! Harry couldn't watch as his mother's heartrending screams tore through the night. When he was finished, he joined his jeering cohorts while to another side, Snape seemed to be right there.

"My lord, she will be broken and ready to serve you before the end of the night." The bloodied and bound woman in question was struggling to breathe, and Harry was horrified to see the eyes, so similar to his own, empty and clearly on the brink of death.

"Heal her, or you will wish that was you." Harry wanted to rip Peter's throat out at this point.

Clearly someone else felt the same way. James's fury was palpable and growing by the second. This fury translated into magic, as suddenly the magical ropes exploded outwards and the wind began to gust ominously. However, the apparent cause of this clearly did not notice as he grabbed the woman and his friend, and disappeared.

Once Harry was done with this vision, he felt sick, and almost immediately lost his dinner into the waste basket. Bastard, had to take Polyjuice Potion before he had the guts to touch her. I'm going to rip Wormtail's guts out. By the time I'm through with him, he'll wish Sirius and Remus had killed him. But, the memories weren't done yet.

"My lord, it has happened, the Potters have made me their secret keeper." Suddenly a high-pitched laugh cut across the room. In the dim light, Harry could see the look on Snape's face. His face was twisted in sadistic glee. Harry felt a hot surge of anger.

"Tonight, the Potters will finally meet their end. I have heard of some of you thinking I cannot kill a Mudblood and her blood-traitor husband, and for that you will pay. Lucius and Rodolphus are in charge until my return. No one is to leave."

Voldemort set off through the side door, leaving a black figure Harry knew must be Wormtail kneeling on the floor and a nervous silence behind him. The silence lasted about an hour, before the nervous silence suddenly became an ominous one.

The first indication that something was wrong was when a shudder went through the Dark Mark, followed closely by a searing pain, and then the mark faded to that of an old scar. When this happened, Lucius, Rodolphus, and a few others shot out Cruciatus Curses at anyone attempting to flee.

"Dumbledore, I've only just managed to get away. The Dark Lord attacked the Potters, only he hasn't come back and there's chaos. Something big has happened."

"Thank you for telling me, Severus. I will look in to it."

"Little Tyke fell asleep just as we was flying over Bristol," said Hagrid fondly. Snape watched from the background as young Harry Potter was laid on his relatives' doorstep. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid both left, Hagrid on the motorbike and Professor McGonagall as a cat.

"I'm sorry, my boy, but the needs of many must outweigh the needs of the few. The people will need their champion. Good luck, Harry Potter." With that, Dumbledore vanished.

Snape smirked and tried to walk up to the property, but found that before he had even stepped onto the lawn, in a flash of white light he was thrown across the street. Livid, he snarled, "I'll see you later, Potter," and disapparated, presumably before Dumbledore came to see what set off the wards.

Harry was furious, but resolved to think before he acted on what he saw. He remembered that he still needed to respond to the Headmaster's letter. He wondered whether to warn Dumbledore about Snape, but then remembered the memory when they had discussed his Occlumency lessons, and thought that if Dumbledore was going to allow Snape to do what he wanted, then there was no reason for him to help Harry. If five years of verbal abuse hadn't been enough to convince him then Harry wasn't about to waste his time. However, he decided to write to Remus about what he'd seen. Dumbledore may be alright with putting the lives of his Order members in the hands of a Death Eater, but Harry was going to make sure that at least someone had his eyes open.

Deciding to wait until he controlled his temper before responding to the Headmaster, Harry took the second letter that had been delivered the night before and, finding an unfamiliar seal on it, opened it using a pair of tongs and the knife nicked from the kitchen. When he saw the letterhead, he relaxed, recognizing it as from Gringotts. Interesting, why did I not get an owl from them before? He opened the letter and read:

Dear Mr. Potter,

We offer our condolences on the loss of Sirius Black. He was a shrewd businessman and worthy of our respect. After all, any one who can have the Ministry chasing its collective tail is a worthy ally. As a personal courtesy to him, we have addressed this letter to you rather than to your financial advisor, a Ms. Hestia Jones, the usual arrangement as stipulated by your former financial guardian, a Mr. Dumbledore.

As you should have been told on your eleventh birthday, financial guardianship of an unclaimed minor living among Muggles automatically reverts to the minor's control upon reentry into the Wizarding World. However, Mr. Black has informed us that you were not so notified and that should he die before your sixteenth birthday, we have been instructed to inform you in his stead.

Mr. Black, as your official magical guardian, arranged that, in the case of his demise, regardless of whether it fall before your majority as indicated under Wizarding Law, this letter would be sent to you with a portkey to Gringotts Bank, activation phrase "beware the sin of greed." Please note that you will end up in our security office, so that we can verify your identity. Please be aware that this is an honor not often bestowed. Do not make us regret this.

In trust,

Wilnok

Manager of House Black

Tujours Pur

Well, that certainly explains a lot, thought Harry. He wondered why Sirius did not tell him before, but supposed that he either assumed that Harry already knew, or was somehow prevented. Harry also wondered why Dumbledore seemed nose-deep in his affairs. More secrets, I suppose. Wonder when he was going to enlighten me on this one.

Trust him indeed, nice try. I refuse to live this semi-existence. It's time to stop whining and start thinking. I have to defeat Voldemort, and I have to do it for myself, not for everyone else. "Neither can live while the other survives..." You've fulfilled your own prophecy, Dumbledore, by sending me here. You ensured I could not live even when no one knew where I was. I could have been happier with practically anyone else. The Dursleys may have protected me from Voldemort, but who protected me from the Dursleys? I may survive, but I sure as hell don't live.

And so Harry came to realize that though he loved his friends, the Wizarding World as a whole needed him a lot more than he needed it. This gave him power in his negotiations.

I may not know what' going on, but I am sure as hell going to find out.

Harry knew that if Dumbledore had his way, he would be stuck in his prison at least until his birthday. However, simply because Dumbledore said number Four, Privet Drive was his home did not make it so. In that spirit, he was already away from home. Besides, if the Order did not know he left, how would Voldemort? Note to self...Occlumency.

Harry continued to think about this for a while, and realized that there was a very good chance that once he got out, if the Order found him, they would lock him up tighter than ever. If he wanted to come back, he would have no privacy once he returned, in a misguided attempt to prevent his running off again. In short, when he left, he needed to make sure the Order did not realize he was gone, but had to have a backup plan.

In order to get away with this, he would need the help of the small device he nicked from the Department of Mysteries. He recognized the device enough to know generally what it was, but he did not know exactly how it worked. So, on impulse, while Hermione was fretting about killing the death eater with his head in the belljar, he snagged one of the devices and then forgotten about it. He figured that with all the broken glass and sand, no one would miss one, but there was not enough time to snitch more without risking discovery. And if Hermione found out...well, he wouldn't have to worry getting himself caught. While his ears were still ringing from her sanctimonious lecture Dumbledore would confiscate it and watch him closer than ever.

Harry knew that Hermione had the best intentions and when the shit hit the fan, she would be there for him (case in point: the Department of Mysteries, when she knew it was a trap and followed him anyway). However, she was too focused on her belief that the adults knew best. Hopefully, last year had cured her of that delusion and he could win her over because he loved Hermione like a sister and although she could be irritating at times, he knew he could be irritating as well and didn't want his relationship with her to fall apart because of this.

Harry was most surprised at how his view of Neville shifted. It wasn't that Neville changed; it was more that Harry's view of him changed. Neville was a bit clumsy, certainly, but weren't most teenaged boys clumsy at some point? Neville had been teased for his clumsiness so long that he had subconsciously made it a part of himself. Just like everyone teased him for being slow, but when Bellatrix Lestrange escaped Azkaban he was one of the quickest to master spells. Maybe the DA could help him; in fact, perhaps the DA could help them both...that was worth thinking over some more.

In the meantime, he had a letter to write.

Dear Gred and Forge,

I need a favor...