Title: The Scios Totalus of Legend
Rating/Warnings: PLEASE READ WARNING FIRST! (Rating M!) Slash, sexual situations (Harry is of legal age in the wizarding world), child abuse (not sexual), offensive language, violence (bloody!), torture (mostly magical), character deaths (won't say if it's not Harry or Severus. If you must know, pm me). Will contain: not-nice!Gryffindors and side pairings (again, if you must know pm me).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This story is meant for entertainment only and no money is being made.
Author's Note: This story is just a little fun. It is my first snarry and something I can write on when I don't feel like doing any real work on my other projects or to get me started again if I have writer's block. It is, and will probably remain, un-betaed and shouldn't be taken too seriously. Other than that, please enjoy it.
Note on spelling, Latin and artefacts: I'm a history student, so although I come across a lot of Latin and ancient Greek phrases, I don't know shit really. I just make them sound more Harry Potter-ish. I'm also Norwegian so please excuse my mistakes. Thirdly, I'm a pathetic fangirl with an overactive imagination. This means that my invented magic stuff can be pretty lame… enough said.
Chapter 1: The Scios Totalus
Severus Snape reluctantly entered his office. Yes, you read correctly, he reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside his office. The reason for his current mood was the fact that a certain raven-haired, green-eyed, scarred and bespectacled pothead was right at this moment invading his personal space.
When Professor Snape had been called to Dumbledore's office and told to administer private lessons to one Harry James Potter he did his best not to do something that would finally land him in Azkaban where he should have been a long time ago. Instead he had agreed, reluctantly, the word not being nearly good enough to describe how he felt. He would be in contact with Potter intimately and vice versa. This, he concluded rapidly, would be a serious problem.
For, no matter how many times Severus Snape told Harry Potter about his arrogant and horrible father, he did not want the little twit to see it first hand, at Snape's expense. It would also mean other things could be in danger of being revealed. Things so secret that not even Snape himself truly knew their full nature.
Having reached this distressing conclusion he opted for the most logical solution; to protect his memories and dreams against invasion, simply remove them from his mind. It seemed fool proof at the time…
Which is why Severus was left speechless for the first time in, suspiciously enough, ten months almost exactly, when he, as stated before, but will be stated again, reluctantly entered his office to find it completely empty, the soft glow of the pensive drawing his gaze almost immediately.
Now, the Potions Master was not a hasty man, certainly not at his age, though admittedly he had done some pretty stupid stuff when younger, but years of hardship had made him think before acting. It therefore probably came as a shock to him more than others that he immediately went over to his desk and pulled his wand. He muttered a long incantation the Dark Lord himself would find hard to break, if even He could, and pulled open the drawer. Inside lay a single object; about the size of a snitch and of the same golden colour. In fact many would mistake it for a snitch, if not for the strange runic markings covering every inch, along with the round, dark hole, no bigger than a thumb nail, seeming to identifying its 'front'.
Severus picked it up and pocketed it swiftly before finally stalking over to the cursed pensive. He gazed into its depths and saw exactly what he feared. Harry Potter was witnessing his humiliation. It chilled and horrified him to such a degree that for a moment he was again speechless and unable to move. His breath came in short gasps and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away any more than the boy inside could.
Forcing his limbs to move, a task he was fairly used to during torturing sessions at his 'other' occupation, he plunged his head in and entered the pensive. Digging one hand into his pocket, his fingers clutching around the cold little ball, he made his way up to where Potter the younger stood. Ignoring the scene that was coming to its disgusting close, he placed one hand firmly on a bony shoulder. He wasn't nearly as gratified by Potter's squeak as he should have been when he leaned in and whispered:
"Having fun, Potter?" the words became malicious of their own accord. This creature standing behind the terrified boy was no man. A rage seized him as he caught sight of Potter the elder out of the corner of his eye, once again laughing away his troubles with his friends now that the scene was over and Lily was nowhere to impress or placate. Yet, even as he pulled Potter out of the memory he managed to bring the golden ball of righteousness out of his pocket and open his hand behind Potter's head, the green eyes too locked on Snape himself to notice retribution already being carried out.
The little ball spread its little wings and looked about ready to zoom off like the snitch it resembled, but instead it fluttered above the Gryffindor's head. For a moment the little hole darted back and forth, and up and down, as if looking for something. Then it settled on Potter's head and, with a soft 'click' no one heard over Potter's stammering or Snape's rage, it disappeared.
Once the door was slammed in perfect harmony to the clashing of the jar Severus had thrown in his undignified fit, he slumped ungracefully into his chair. It seemed all rage had left him, along with every other emotion. Potter had seen Snape's worst memory. There were so many, many reasons why that was disturbing he couldn't even begin to count them. He had not felt so humiliated and emasculated in a long time. And he worked for the Dark Lord and Dumbledore simultaneously!
His thoughts turned slowly to the golden ball and a grim smile, more like a grimace of disgust (with himself perhaps?) began to spread across his face. It was one of those secrets not even the Dark Lord or Dumbledore knew of; the one thing he kept for himself, perhaps as a symbol of his silent and ineffective rebellion against both masters, perhaps simply because he had wanted it. The latter was more likely.
Once upon a time the Dark Lord had told Snape to go out on a mission, alone. The request was unusual since Severus would normally have stayed and made potions for both sides of the war. Still, none of the Death Eaters had his expertise on… well, on anything really. Dumbledore had agreed that Snape should go, but bring the artefact back to the Light side obviously, and tell Voldemort he couldn't find it.
He had found it, and given the correct response to the Dark Lord, unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you are, he had said the same thing to Dumbledore. And now he had just set the artefact to work on the Boy Who Lived. If he wasn't going to Hell before, this had just reserved him a suite of his very own.
The Scios Totalus was a mythical artefact. It was ironic really that Severus, the Spy, would be the one to find it, because it was the perfect device for a spy. It followed the target around, totally invisible and undetectable by any other magical means, and let you see and know everything, even the person's thoughts if you wished. Obviously, it was a pretty good thing such devices weren't manufactured by the Ministry or Voldemort. It would put an end to all freedom and privacy.
Having told Dumbledore and Voldemort that it was merely the stuff of legends he had then locked it away, waiting for the opportune moment to use it against one of his master's most likely; to finally put an end to the war. Then he had entered his office, and realised that Potter was witnessing his most closely guarded secret. In haste he had grabbed the Scios Totalus, deeming it the perfect way to get Potter back. He would know Potter's secrets just as Potter now knew one of his. And if the little Gryffindor brat decided to share his newly acquired information on the hated Professor, well, Severus was going to be ready!
With this thought firmly in mind he waved his wand over his desk and said the correct spell. Almost instantly a hole, nearly covering his desk, appeared and Severus leaned back in his chair as he gazed into it. He flicked his wand again and the picture-like image flipped up so that it was in front of him and he could view it more easily. He wanted to be comfortable.
There stood Harry Potter, panting and flushed, pressing his back against the wall as if he wanted to disappear into it. Severus sneered at the image. Potter was obviously scared to death. Pathetic. And this was the future hero of the wizarding world? He flicked his wand again and Harry's thoughts could be heard in Severus' mind, almost as if he had a phone to his ear, though that comparison escaped him.
'Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,' Harry thought desperately. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to dispel the image of Snape's bare legs in the air. 'Snape was right, all along. God!' a tear managed to leak its way out of one eye, trailing unnoticed down his cheek. In his office, Snape frowned, but reframed from commenting, even mentally. 'I wish that jar had hit me. My father humiliated Snape just like Dudley used to bully me… what am I saying? Like Dudley still does to me. James Potter was just as arrogant as Snape said. Dear God, what if I'm like that? No wonder Snape hates me.'
Now Snape was really thoughtful. He turned off Potter's inner monologue as the teen finally pushed away from the wall and started making his way back to the Tower. Severus had been delighted when, seeing into the brat's mind, he had discovered that Potter had been bullied at that muggle school in his younger years, and though a part of Severus wondered about it, he had afterwards not given it much thought. There had been too many other things to worry about, one of which had just come to pass. The last thought that had passed through Potter intrigued him more. It had almost sounded like Potter regretted that Severus hated him… but that didn't make much sense at all.
Snuggling (not that Snape ever used such a word) further into his chair to get comfortable Severus spelled on Potter's thoughts and leaned back to watch a little more before evening. Potter was just entering the Gryffindor Tower… and his thoughts were getting really interesting…
Harry sighed as he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. 'Fuck, I don't think I can handle anything tonight,' he thought tiredly. 'Maybe I can get past every one without much hassle and just go to bed… maybe I'll draw a little first.'
"Altus," he mumbled the password. He noted glumly, as he almost always did when passing through the portrait hole, that he hardly had to bend to get through at all. Most of the other students in his year had had growth spurts during the summer, and grown a great deal during the year so far, but not Harry Potter. Oh, no, of course not. 'Why am I always different? How am I supposed to save the world when I'm smaller than a first year? Ok, exaggerating, I know, but I'm entitled to whine a little, at least in private! Merlin save me… probably the Dursleys' fault. Keeping a kid in a cupboard must have done something wrong, everything else they did has.'
Lost in his inner grumblings, Harry didn't notice the heated glares being sent his way by the boys from his dorm. He was startled when he suddenly walked right into Ron, who was by now towering over him. Harry eyed the redhead warily and took a step back for good measure. Glancing around quickly, he noted the rest of the common room was empty. The upper years were probably still in the library or study halls working for their finals, while the younger years were in bed. Harry gulped as the group of three (Neville wasn't there) made a semi circle in front of him, blocking his way to the dormitory.
"So, little fag, how was your evening with Snapey?" Seamus spat venomously, glaring from Ron's right. Dean Thomas stood glaring icily from the redhead's left. "Bet you lost Gryffindor a ton of points, didn't you?" Harry shook his head, his mouth had gone dry. He was eyeing the curled up piece of parchment in Ron's right fist. It looked scarily familiar.
"Recognise it, do ya?" Ron asked as he raised his fist, bringing it close to Harry's face. "Yeah, we found it in your bed, you little ponce. I could have forgiven you for being a nancy boy, but this is too disgusting for words!" The other two boys nodded vigorously at that and made grimaces.
'Oh, shit. It must have fallen out of my notebook when I put it away,' Harry thought miserably. 'I wonder which one it is…'
"Taking it up the arse is about as un-Gryffindor as you can get," Seamus stated seriously. "But taking it from a Slytherin! Don't you have any morals or standards, Potter?"
"Not just a Slytherin, but a Malfoy no less!" Ron bellowed suddenly. He was as red as his hair by now, vibrating with the need to hurt his former best friend. 'Ok… so, obviously one I drew of Malfoy then…' Harry could hardly do anything as the insults continued to hit him; they were three, he was one. He had faced Voldemort last year, but that had been in a fair duel… sort of. The sudden right-hook from Ron was anything but fair.
Through the haze of pain and redness Harry dimly heard words like 'freak' and 'sick bastard', and so he naturally assumed he was at Privet Drive. He therefore let the fists pummel him into the floor as he usually did when Vernon felt like beating the magic out of him. He lay very still when everything was finished, because if he moved too soon Vernon would decide he hadn't learnt his lesson. As he bled, the red blood seeping and disappearing in the deep red carpet, he vaguely thought: 'I probably deserved that.'
When things had been quiet for a safe amount of time Harry tried to keep his groans to a minimum as he climbed to his feet and limped towards the dorms. It was thankfully empty, but it took a while for him to get up the stairs. 'Not so bad, though, Vernon packs a meaner punch than all those three put together. And with Dudley they could have beaten a wizard in a physical fight any day of the week. It's probably their weight… also probably why Dudley likes to sit on me a lot.'
Putting away such thoughts Harry got into bed, but not before removing his clothes first. He knew first hand that leaving them on would make it very painful peeling them off his dried wounds in the morning. 'That was a painful lesson to learn,' he thought morosely as he gingerly got in bed, above the covers. 'I hope they ripped up that picture…' was the last thought that seeped through his mind before he passed out.
Severus sat as if made of stone in his office, gazing at the dark hole since Potter had wandlessly, and perhaps even unconsciously, spelled the curtains closed. Merlin's beard! Of all the secrets Severus had hoped, wanted and prayed to discover this was so far off the mark it boggled the mind, and Snape's mind wasn't easy to boggle.
He had been so completely and utterly shocked he had just stared when the three Gryffindor fifth years started beating their star seeker and Chosen One. And Harry's thoughts during and after the pounding were still echoing in his mind. The boy hadn't thought it was too bad! Severus was seriously considering going up there and taking the boy to Madam Pomfrey. Potter would surely have internal bleeding after a session like that!
And the reason for it was even more baffling. It went unspoken that homosexuality wouldn't be welcomed much within the dwindling population of the wizarding community, but Severus would have thought that if anyone could get away with it, then surely the Boy Who Lived could? And it had been his own "open-minded Gryffindor" friends who had rejected him.
The scene stung something deep within Severus he had long ignored. Most likely the episode was eerily similar to one from his own youth. His thoughts were going in so many directions at the same time he was getting a severe headache.
Severus got up from his chair and practically stumbled to his bedchamber after cancelling the Scios Totalus spell. He fell into bed with his clothes on, summoning a sleeping potion from his private collection and drowning it in deep gulps.
His last thought was: 'Where the hell is the son of James Potter? And who is this Harry person?'
Ps: This is probably going to follow canon events through the end of fifth year (but if you guys want Sirius to live just review and tell me!) Things are definitely going to change for year six. The summer will also obviously be different. Please review and let me know if you think this is all a waste of time… which it basically is because I'm writing this whenever I want to waste an hour or two! (Good way to waste it, you think?)