Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ To Live A Forgotten Dream ❯ Chapter 1

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I own the rest of the group; I just like to toy with their lives. I am not the original owner of this story. I took over for Black Phoenix of the Shadows. She wrote the first 3 chappies, & from chappie 4 & up will be mine!

“Blah” speech

/blah/ Parseltongue

IXIXIXIXIX

Discovery: Answers and Questions…

“Potter,” Harry jumped as he was startled out of his thoughts. Professor Snape was looming over him with a sneer on his face. Harry gulped, “Yes, Professor?” he asked, bravely, it was a well known fact that this particular professor loved to torment The-Boy-Who-Lived and his two closest friends.

"What are the risks of taking the Dreamless Sleep potion?" Harry smirked, he knew everything about the Dreamless Sleep potion, as he had been making (when he was able to) all summer long and all previous summers since Fourth year. He was now in Seventh and was a master at this potion.

“If taken too often addiction forms, if addiction remains untreated, loss of dreaming capability ensues. Unfortunately, we need to dream to stay sane, so basically. The long term effect is insanity.” Snape's face was one of pure shock, quickly his mask of hate slid back into place. It was indeed a mask, as Harry well knew. He had caught Snape staring at him more and more often since Fifth year with a different look in his eyes; one he either couldn't identify, or just could not comprehend.

Snape was determined to trip him up, “What is the main ingredient in the same potion?” Harry snorted, “Dragon's Blood, of course, but if that is un-available or the drinker is allergic, Pixie Wings may be substituted.” he bit out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The man sneered, “How long does the potion take to brew?” Harry's full lips twisted into a wry smile, “That's a bit of a trick question, sir.” “So you don't know. Not that I'd expect anything less from the `Golden Boy', since he can't even do the most simple of potions.”

Harry inwardly sighed; he hated the masks he had to wear. He was actually brilliant at Potions, but he had to keep up a façade. Yes, just like he had to conceal the fact that he was dead inside. Outwardly, he smirked and locked eyes with his professor, “May I remind you, sir, that in order to be in N.E.W.T. Potions, you had to receive an “O” on the O.W.L.s, and that I did meet the requirements? As a matter of fact, I do know the answer. I was just wondering if you wanted me to list all of the possibilities or just the condensed version.”

“Ten points from Gryffindor for you cheek, Mr. Potter. As for the question, the condensed version would probably be the best option for your tiny brain.” Snape was in wonderful from today, in his best acting mode. Harry's dead eyes just stared at the man, while, his mask firmly in place, he began to answer the question he was asked, not condensing the answer one bit.

“The amount the potion simmers, determines the strength. The longest amount of time, a month, will produce a potion strong enough to knock you out for several weeks. Eight weeks and three days to be exact. The shortest amount of time will create the most diluted form which will allow you to sleep peacefully for nine hours. The other doses must be measured precisely, as the possibilities of a screw up can leave you in a comatose state for years.”

The class was watching the exchange with smirking, fearful, and anticipatory looks on their faces, depend on which house they're in. It was like a tennis match as they turned to face each speaker, back and forth, back and forth.

Hermione was watching incredulously as her best friend degraded a teacher at the same time as throwing knowledge even she didn't have in his face. She was rather worried for her friend's wellbeing at the moment. It would not be good for him to get a detention on their first day back from summer holidays.

Snape's face showed fury and spite, but what Harry saw in his eyes was faint….pride? Why would Snape be proud of him? “What are the other uses of the Dreamless Sleep potion, at the lowest strength and in different doses?” The class waited with bated breath. They were positive he would trip up now.

Harry's face didn't change in anyway, “The potion may be used as a mild calming potion or a pain reliever, as it temporarily separates your emotions from your consciousness. It may also be used to deaden you to your surroundings, if that is required.”

Immediately Snape bit out the next question, “What can cause it to be in-effective?” Harry just sighed once more, “If taken with Veritaserum or any truth potion it's ineffective, as well as if it's taken with any potion cause a change in physical appearance, or a strong calming potion...also, any potion with Moonflower Nectar renders it useless. It works well with all healing potions.”

Snape sneered once more, “Well, it seams that you're not as stupid as you look. Well done.” He walked back to his desk and sat down, while Harry began to work on his potion. The professor turned around and scanned the room with a look of disgust on his face, “Well, what are you all waiting on? GET BACK TO WORK!”

Everyone scurried to start their potions as a black-haired young man in the back row quietly worked on his, keeping to himself, even as his friends tried to draw him into conversation with their innocent queries to his `new found' knowledge. He silently worked on the assignment (which he could do in his sleep) and began examining his feelings for different things in his life, including the professor in which whose class he was currently in.

I haven't hated him since last year, I rather respect the man. However, something else is there as well. When I speak or verbally spar with him, several odd sensations and feelings overcome me. I'm filled with warmth and joy, as well as a rather embarrassing physical reaction. I find him handsome in a dark sort of way, and there's no denying the attraction. I feel drawn to him somehow. I wonder how he truly feels about me. Does he feel any sort of attraction, or affection? Probably not, who would feel things like that towards me? I'm just a worthless freak and a murderer. It's just another hopeless cause; I'd do best to forget about it.

Harry sighed heavily and bottled his completed potion. Looking around to see if anyone was watching him, he stuffed the extra vials of it inside his pocket, and then labeled the one he was going to turn in. He didn't notice the onyx black eyes that happened to catch the slight of hand.

I wonder why Potter needs Dreamless Sleep. Hell, I wonder how he knew so much about it. The young man has become an enigma, one in which I intend to solve.

Oh, and of course your attraction towards the young man has nothing to do with it. Severus' inner voice sarcastically remarked.No, of course not. Just because he happens to have a cute arse, does not mean I love him.

Who mentioned love? We were speaking about what he is hiding. The voice remarked with false innocence. He inwardly snarled at the voice, but wisely remained silent.

Harry walked up to the desk and set the potion in front of Snape, who picked it up and scanned it appraisingly. He gave a (false!) long suffering sigh before remarking, “Twenty points for Mister Potter's perfect potion, and another twenty for the questions he answered earlier in the period. Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, sir?” quietly responded the shocked teen. “Stay after class, I must speak with you.” Harry nodded, happiness sweeping through him, yet not shining through his mask and dead eyes, then sat back down. The rest of the class had frozen at Snape's proclamation, and were staring at the man with incredulity.

He snorted and drawled out, “Yes, Hell has indeed frozen over. Now, get back to work!” Whispers began to make their rounds as the group finished up and labeled their potions. Harry paid no attention and just sat at his seat, quietly reading a book until then end of the period.

Five minutes later, the bell rang to signal the end of the class, and a mad rush for the door was made. Harry waved off his friends, “I'll be fine. I'll see you in Transfiguration!”, as they gave him doubtful looks but left anyway. He was still sitting in his seat, slowly packing his things, when the professor made his way over to the table.

“Mr. Potter?” He asked all traces of animosity replaced by pure neutrality. “Yes sir?” Harry answered weariness in his voice and on his face.

“Mr. Potter, how did you know the answers to the questions I asked you? I know they are not in the assigned book.”

“I bought a few extra books for extra study; I do not want to be left behind.” He said, as he stood up, and leaned against the desk.

“You could not have gotten all of that information from a book. Especially the part about the substitution of the Dragon's Blood. It is incredibly rare for someone to be allergic to Dragon's Blood, so know one bothers to find substitutions for it.”

“With all due respect, sir, I am allergic to Dragon's Blood. I needed to find a substitution for it, so I did.”

“Why are you taking the potion, Potter?”

Harry hesitated long enough to cause Snape to be suspicious (even if he hadn't seen him take the vials of the potion). “I am not, sir. I have no use for it.” Snape stared into those dead eyes, and then subtly studied the young man before him. He was acting unusual. He noticed that there was a slight shimmer to his image. That's odd, only glamour can cause that. His eyes widened, especially when he took in the way Harry was standing.

He was leaning against the desk in a way to alleviate some pain or a limp. He held his bag on his left shoulder, even though he always uses his right, his wand was in poking out of his bag, when it was normally in his pocket, where it was easier to reach in an emergency. The only reason he wouldn't be able to reach inside his pockets was if his fingers had been broken.

Professor Snape grew suspicious, what was the young man hiding? He silently and wandlessly locked and warded the door, before confronting the student before him. “Mr. Potter, what are you hiding and why are you using glamour?”

Harry's eyes now widened as he frantically thought up an excuse, “I'm not hiding anything, sir, and the glamour is to hide my hair, as I haven't gotten it cut yet.” Even to his own ears it sounded weak and false, and he mentally cringed. Snape just rolled his eyes.

“Finite Incantum Maximaia” The spells dropped and Snape gasped while Harry grimaced and moved to run. A quick Stupefy cut that off. Snape quickly levitated him into his office and onto the small couch inside, then paused to get a good look at the boy. He magically removed Harry's robes and shirt before looking closely.

It was terrible; Harry had too many injuries to count. The most obvious being the bruises, cuts and welts all over him. It was also obvious the boy hadn't been fed in a while as you could see each rib and several of them were broken. Both of his eyes were blackened and his lip was split, he also had a deep gash on his brow.

Snape quickly covered the pale thin boy with a blanket before leaving his office and hurrying to the Great Hall, posting a sign excusing everyone from classes for the remainder of the day. He rushed up to the Head Table and over to the Headmaster as soon as he entered, whispering in Albus' ear.

“Albus, I need you in the dungeons along with Lupin and Minerva. Now.”

“May I ask why?” the Headmaster's tone was curios.

“It's about Potter.” Snape's voice became a growl as he remembered the state he left the boy in.

“What's he done now?” Dumbledore's voice sounded weary as he thought of the relations between to two.

“It's not about what he's done; it's about what was done to him!” he answered slightly frantic.

“I'm afraid, my dear boy, I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Albus, it is of the utmost importance that you come with me immediately.” the younger man's tone was insistent. With a small inward sigh, the Headmaster rose and motioned to the other two professors before following the Potions professor down and across the Great Hall. The black haired man stopped at the edge of the Gryffindor table and addressed the other members of the “Golden Trio”.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, it would most likely be beneficial for you to accompany the Headmaster and myself to my office. It seems that we have a problem with Mr. Potter.” The two looked at Snape, then Dumbledore before glancing at each other and nodding together as they stood up.

The DADA and Transfiguration teachers were now standing behind the group and as one they all set off for the dungeons.