Title:  The Spark

Rating: PG-13?  Something like that, nothing graphic

Spoilers:  All

Pairing:  Harry/Sev, with references to Harry/Draco in the past.

Disclaimer:  If I'm JKR then the world is a nice place.  No, obviously I'm not.

Summary:  Harry has to find a place to unwind, but every one knows who he is, so he travels to the past at night to go to the club, Spark, there he meats a young Severus Snape, and they get talking, ect.

A/N:  This is gona be so full of mistakes, its not beta read or anything, and I  myself am dyslexic so I cant see my own mistakes, anyway this was just some random plot bunny that attacked me and I had to put it on paper…no wait, screen?  Well what ever, it will be rushed, I want to get it finished before book five comes out, cos I like writing stories that stick to cannon as much as possible.  I'll stop rambling now.  Feedback is adored and treasured!  lata

Chapter one:  It's To Hot for That Cloak

    Harry swayed to the music well actually it was more like wildly dancing.  He was having a blast, finally a place where he could be himself, or the self he never got to be when he said no to being in Slytherin.

    The club was dark with strobe lights highlighting flushed faces and moving bodies.  There wasn't a chance in hell Harry would run into anyone that had heard of him, or met him or even anyone who had read his name from a history book.  Quite simply because he wasn't in any history books yet.  Harry had found the perfect escape, there was no where on earth he wasn't known about, what with the war going on, but there was a time on earth.

    He had gone back to the time his parents were at school.  Not to stay, he visited about twice a month.  All he did was dance, in the dimly lit club he was not going to be noticed.  His scar was well hidden with thick layers of Hermione's foundation and he hadn't looked the spitting image of James since the middle of fifth year when he had grown out his hair so it now rested on the tops of his shoulders.  He had gone back to before the war had begun, but not far enough for every thing to be different, and he avoided changing everything, or anything for that matter. 

    The Spark, Harrys new 'adopted' club was in Hogsmeade, and neither Siri or the others knew about it, Harry had checked with his godfather before coming to this time so there was no chance of running into them, and he doubted anyone else knew the way to Hogsmeade without getting caught.  The teachers' weren't very fond of Spark.  Not a very 'Hogwarts' sort of place.  Harry loved it.

    Harry wandered up to the bar, running a hand over his slick brow.  Ordering a drink he turned and watched the crowd around him.  They were smiling and grinning with the sort of care free abandon that the people he knew just could not have.  They had grown up in a dark shadow and just never were that relaxed.

    A hunched figure sat alone at the bar, a dark cloak falling over his shoulders like a waterfall.  Harry watched with amazement.  Wasn't the guy hot?  He himself was stifled in the smoky atmosphere with only a thin black shirt on with half the buttons un-done, and even that he was contemplating discarding.  The Black leather pants probably didn't help, but damn he looked good in them. 

    As a rule Harry didn't talk to anyone in this timeline, to much of a chance to screw things up.  But this guy looked seriously down, nursing a drink.  Harry, by his build placed him in seventh year, making the strange figure the same age as himself.  Apart from that he couldn't make out much else, the mans hair hid his face in a mass of luxurious ebony locks, and briefly Harry wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it.

    Harry shook his head, he didn't even know what the man looked like.  He ordered a second drink and walked over to the stranger.  A single drink wouldn't hurt, just a little idle chat, nothing earth shattering, or time bending.

    "Hey."  Harry said struggling to be heard over the music.  He slipped over the second drink to the man who just looked at it and sat on a stool.

    "Hello."  The voice was rich and soothing; Harry started to wonder if idle chat was really such a good idea.

    "I haven't poisoned it you know."  Harry smiled at the wary look the proffered drink was getting.

    "And why should I trust you?" 

    "Because I don't get on very well with my schools Potions Master."  Harry sighed, the stranger seemed familiar, and he had to find out who it was before they got any deeper into conversation.