Potions Accident

Chapter One: Caught in Memories

"You may say I'm a dreamer...

but I'm not the only one..."

Severus' Point of View

Even three months after Sirius Black fell through the veil in the Ministry of Magic, there were nights that I couldn't sleep, haunted by the look of horror on his face as he fell. Other nights, I slept fitfully, waking to sweat-soaked blankets, unable to remember the nightmares. Which, in itself, could be considered a blessing. I considered it another torment to add to my ever-growing list.

Sirius Black was a great person and a better lover. He was reckless at the best of times, but his compassion far outweighed that personality trait. Sarcastic and rude to one another in public, our relationship was always conceived to be one of pure hatred. But the truth was that we loved each other the way Hermione and Ron love one another. That pairing...I've been waiting for it to happen for the longest time. I don't understand why they aren't courting. Their attraction to one another was obvious at the beginning of their second year.

Sirius, I missed like I missed no other person. I had witnessed many deaths, but none were as painful to me as his was. He taught me how to love, how to trust, how to live. I contemplated on the ups and downs of our relationship as I stirred a potion patiently in my private lab. The potion I was making would be administered to the Death Eaters--it was meant to kill them by de-aging them over a period of five years.

Focused on Sirius, I didn't notice when I grabbed powdered newt when the potion called for diced rat's toes. How I managed to confuse them, I have no idea, except that I was immersed in memories.

Sirius' laugh echoed off the dungeon walls. A year ago, we had discussed the merits of Potions work.

"I don't understand why you love Potions so much. I mean, it's all so mechanical. Doesn't it get tedious?" Black inquired, perched on a lab table, swinging his legs back and forth under him.

I rolled my eyes at the animagus. "You spent ten years in Azkaban and I don't give you grief about that. Why are you beating up on my Potions?" I asked, reaching around him to stir a Calming Draught.

Black, surprisingly, seemed abashed. "I'm sorry, Severus. I didn't realize you loved your work so much." He moved an inch to the right, just enough so that I could stir the Potion but not so much that I couldn't feel his skin on mine.

"You love being active all the time, right? Compare it to that, if you must compare it to something. And no, I don't find it tedious. At least, not very often." Only when you're around, I added mentally.

"When do you find it tedious?" Black asked, settling himself so that his shirt rode up a little every time he swung his legs back and forth.

I bottled the potion and carefully set it on the shelf. With a growl, I attacked the grinning mutt and shut him up with a kiss.

"Such fond memories," I whispered as I dumped in a second wrong ingredient. Stirring, I turned to put the bottle on the shelf and actually looked down at the name on the bottle. My eyes widened in horror. "Shit!" I exclaimed, beginning to scramble towards the potion. It was like my life flashing before my eyes in slow motion.

The puddle of water caught my shoe and I slid, hit the wooden table leg, and didn't have enough time to say a spell before the potion spilled all over my robes. It was just my luck that I had forgotten to wear my absorbency cloak. Trying not to panic, I cast a cleansing spell and went to look at myself in the mirror. The wrong ingredients would have transformed the original intent to a completely different one. Or so went my theory.

I twitched violently when I saw my reflection. My 16 year old reflection. I sighed in relief when I realized that if anymore of the potion had sunk into my skin, I would have become obsolete, an infant or a never-born. This situation required Albus' expert advice.

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"Would you like a lemon drop, Severus?" the Headmaster asked before I even entered his office.

I sighed in irritation. "Albus, I have no time for muggle luxuries. I have a much more serious problem."

"Oh?" Albus swiveled around in his chair--for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what purpose the chair served other than amusement--and peered intently at me. "Severus, what happened?"

"Potions accident," I answered brusquely. "It's a five-year time-locked effect. Do you have a solution?"

Albus Dumbledore's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. I experienced hope for a brief instant, but it disappeared as soon as he answered. "No, Severus, I don't. But I do have an idea of how we can use this to our advantage."

Oh no, I thought, you are not dragging me any further into this war than I am already immersed. "What idea is that?" I asked, irritated. I loved Albus like a father, but sometimes the man got on my nerves. He was manipulative and everyone but me didn't seem to care, or didn't let themselves notice.

"We could incorporate you into the 6th year Gryffindors. You'd have to have a new name of course. After all, a 16 year old, even in body, isn't legally allowed to teach Potions." Albus was back to swiveling in that stupid chair.

Great. My love was being taken from me. Voice close to breaking, I asked, "Who will you get to teach Potions?"

"I'll teach it, Severus. I am an established Potions Master myself."

I nodded in acquiescence. The man had too much blackmail material on me for me to do anything but say yes. At least my years of a spy would aid my new mission. "Fine, Albus. Now would you please stop with that damned swivel chair?"

Getting close to Harry Potter was not going to be easy. But before that could happen, I needed a new identity. It was time to do some shopping.

Harry's Point of View

The past summer was one of the worst summers of my life. I have had a few believe me. The Order hadn't been in contact with me at all and neither had my so-called best friends. Probably too wrapped up in each other and their sexual tension. I spent the entire summer reliving Sirius' fall behind the veil. I had nightmares too. Nightmares in which I looked behind the veil and saw his bloody and bruised body crumpled on the floor. I was entirely to blame. If I hadn't been so gullible, if I had listened to Snape and got to grips with Occulemency, Sirius could still be alive.

The Dursley’s ignored me all summer. They had no sympathy. Dumbledore owled them and it was thrown, burnt-up, in the back garden, with both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon smiling with satisfaction. I no longer had any hold over them. I couldn't threaten them with my 'murderer' godfather.

The first thing Uncle Vernon said when he read the letter was, "Back where he belongs. Hell."

Bastard.

I was back at Kings Cross Station all alone. I was surprised nobody from the Order escorted me there. Maybe they had. Maybe they were hiding in various places. I didn't know. I didn't care.

I made it on to platform nine and three quarters and surprisingly enough, I was early. The train wasn't even there yet. Well, when have we ever been able to rely on London Transport?

The only people on the platform were a group of what I assumed were first years, chattering nervously to one another, a boy from the fourth year, I thought, and a new boy. I had never seen him before but he looked as though he could be my age. Kinda gothic looking. Black hair, piercing eyes, nose was a little long but he had a very pale complexion. He kept glancing at me and then looking away. Guess he knew who I was. If he was going to stare at me then he might as well do it properly. I walked in his direction to go see what the hell his problem was when I was pulled into a hug by Hermione who had just arrived.

"Harry! I'm so glad to see you." Mother of God, why was she trying to suffocate me? I tried to pull away but her embrace just tightened.

"Yeah and me mate." Ron was standing next to her, looking slightly irked that Hermione was still attached to me. She finally let me go and stood back, waiting for me to say something.

I didn't know what to say. What do you say to people who practically deserted you for the entire summer? A summer in which I was all alone. Alone at a time when I needed friends to support me. A time when I needed to know someone cared. I could have exploded and told them how hurt I was. But I didn't feel up to a confrontation. They weren't worth it. I just walked away and head towards the train which had finally arrived.

“Harry?” Hermione was obviously puzzled It would give them something to talk about on the way there.

I grabbed the first carriage I saw and the new boy was sitting there already. Alone. What have I got to loose? I took the seat next to him and the train departed. Another year at Hogwarts began...

Severus' Point of View

I don't know why Albus decided I had to ride the train to Hogwarts whenever I was perfectly content in my dungeons. His explanation never came, either. So September 1st, I found myself waiting impatiently on the platform for the train to show up. Potter, for the first time in his life, was early for something.

I glanced at him from time to time, trying to see what kind of person he actually was. I knew I was judgmental in the classroom, but most of that was for show. I hated all people, though the fact that I was a Death Eater turned spy forced me to be more grotesque to the Gryffindors than any other house.

I saw Granger walk up to him and pull him into a bear-hug. I was surprised the child actually managed to breathe after being nearly suffocated. I wasn't so blind that I didn't realize that Harry didn't want anything to do with Hermione and Ron. I was a bit curious as to why, but I figured it wasn't any of my business--yet.

I thanked Hermione profusely in my head, though, for rescuing me. Potter had noticed my glances towards him and was coming to investigate before she stepped in and distracted him. The Weasley boy seemed almost possessive of Hermione. I assumed they were dating with the way he was acting. I swear, teenagers. I shook my head in annoyance and then remembered, flushing, that I was now the equivalent of a teenager.

I still had all the knowledge and all the memories I had possessed before the Potions accident, but a sixteen year old body is a sixteen year old body, with all the required hormones running rampant. That would begin to get on my nerves later. At the moment, I was focused on getting my stuff on the train (which had just arrived) and finding an empty compartment.

To my surprise, Potter slid into the seat next to me without asking if the seat was taken. Hmph. It didn't matter how old or young I was, I would never tolerate rudeness from anyone. "That was very rude, you know," I said conversationally, waiting for the angry boy to respond to my observation.

Harry's Point of View

“Sorry?” I had enough worries without having to deal with lip from New Boy.

“It was rude of you to just take the seat without asking.” He glared at me, his steady gaze never wavering. It was quite unnerving.

“Sorry,” I responded unsteadily, “Is this seat taken?”

“No.” His tone didn't change. So, so monotonous. I wasn't able to grasp this. I didn't even know the guy and he was picking a fight with me!

“Well, what exactly is the problem then?” I snapped back.

“That you, Mr. Pot-, I mean Potter, obviously have no manners whatsoever.”

What a fucking joke! By then I was angry.

“Who do you think you are to lecture me? I don't even know you!” My voice had

raised a decibel.

“If you don't like it, leave.” He remained cool and didn't appear to be flustered at all.

It was tempting to leave. I didn't want to get into a fight first day back but the only other option was an interrogation from Ron and Hermione.

“I don't see why I should.” I retorted. I was behaving like a child. I didn't do that often but at that age I could get away with it. At that age I could still be legally classed as a child even though I had seen more horrors in my lifetime and nightmares than any child should or will ever see.

“Suit yourself.” He pulled out a book and shot me a brief but all the same, a stern stare before concentrating on Transfiguration- An Intermediate Overview By Wilfred Maladries.

I just sat and stared out of the window. At that time the year before, I had been seen off by Sirius running down the platform as Padfoot. The last time I had been on that train, he was dead. That particular journey back home was worse than usual. It had been prolonged and the carriage was silent for the most part. On the train journey with New Boy nobody seemed to be thinking about Sirius except me.

But then again, why would they? I had thought cynically, they were all still living with their narrow mindedness and still believed that Sirius was a murderous thug who deserved what he got. I closed my eyes and instead of replaying the happy moments I was haunted by the bad. The time I rejected his offer to come to the hearing with me last year. The hurt in his eyes. It was as if I had stabbed him. I saw his fall behind the veil; heard the shrieking Bellatrix and my own choked sobs as Remus pulled me away. Before I knew it tears were falling down my cheeks. By the time I realized this, New Boy noticed me and looked horrified. I hurriedly wiped the tears away with the back of my hand.

“What?” I shouted in an icy tone, “haven’t you ever seen anyone cry?”

“I..yo..d..” But he didn't say anything comprehensible.

I closed my eyes again only to see Sirius’ last twisted smile. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes shot open, my breathing short and uneven.

“Are you okay Harry?”

What could I say? I wasn’t about to pour my heart out to a virtual stranger. Especially one who had tried to fight with me earlier.

“Yes," I said, although my tone was quite unconvincing. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow. A look on his face that would later be familiar to me somewhat irked me.

“I’m fine.” But my voice had crackled with raw emotion and this time New Boy shook his head.

“There’s no point in lying Potter. Lying never got anyone anywhere in my experience.”

I guess, if I had kept silent forever I would have exploded with emotion and been eaten up inside. I wasn’t ready for a full blown heart to heart though.

“I’m just thinking about my Godfather. He died.” I mumble and I wasn’t sure whether he heard me because he was just staring at his book, almost as if he was in a trance.

Finally he took a deep breath and muttered, “I’m sure he’s in a better place now…”

What if there was no better place though? What if we were living in the best place there was and there was only worse to come when we died? What if this was all there was? I didn't want his shabby and vague comments but at least he had listened. There was a rattling on the door and an animated Neville was there. Happiest I would ever see him.

“Harry! Have you heard?” Before I had a chance to respond he spoke again, "Professor Snape is gone! I’m free!”

I couldn’t understand why at the time. It puzzled me and would do so for sometime after that. He had been tied to Dumbledore in so many ways. Surely he was protected there? But then I felt a foreboding pang in my stomach. Maybe he had returned to Voldemort. But all the same I forced a smile and replied,

“That’s great Neville.” He smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen and walked off.

New Boy, who I noted had glared at Neville, had settled his gaze on me as I sat back down again. A different atmosphere had descended on us. There was a sense of comfort on my part. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue our previous conversation but he had already decided or he wouldn’t have been reading his book again. But it was like a drug. Once I had done it I wanted to do it again. I wanted to feel better so broke the silence after taking a deep breath.

“It hurts.”

Immediately his eyes shot up and looked into mine. A mixture of grief, pain but most of all shock. Probably shock at the fact I was just off-loading on to him. But I continued nevertheless.

“It hurts because I want to tell him how sorry I am. I want to tell him what he means to me. I want to tell him I love him.” It was like opening a flood gate. “But I can’t.” I broke down and felt ashamed. Why can't I control my emotions? I thought desperately.

He rested a hand on my knee and his thumb rubbed lightly, comforting me, but never uttering a word. I shuddered with sobs and the rain splattered against the windows. All the time he looked at the floor, his hair covering his face, but his hand still remained on my knee.

When I finally calmed down, he took his hand back and stared at the book open in his lap, still not uttering a word. Silence filled the carriage for the rest of the journey.

The Hogwarts Express finally pulled in and had practically run out with his bags as soon as the doors opened. It was then that it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't even know his name.