Disclaimer: I Lord Fatuous the Flatulent am the True Lord of the Dance[ahem!! Sorry about that! I don't own these characters… etc… etc… etc..
Author's Note: I've taken a lot of liberties with Snape's established past, and I've taken liberties with the ending of the sixth book as well! Don't you love it when Dumbledore lives?
Author's Other Note: I've kept some of the stuff from the end of book seven in this, as I wanted to play a bit with JKR's ending to the book [not the bit where he's married to Ginny!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't lynch me! You'll recognise the ideas when you see them, though I haven't actually quoted the book here. I don't own those bits either…
A Warm Touch of Magic
Pain. Bright lights. Freezing cold followed by searing heat.
The child gasped and threw himself to one side, while all around him voices shouted and screamed. He was trapped in folds of grey and black cloth, which were hampering his movements and tripping him.
A determined wriggle and he was free, the mask on his face dropping away, the things trapping his legs and feet gone, leaving him in a large white shirt that flapped over his hands and around his ankles, the high collar loose on his neck. The shirt was big enough for his father to wear and for a moment he was terrified that he had been dressing up in his father's clothes. He had only done that once before and the punishment he had received had been more than enough to deter him from doing it again.
"Snape!" a voice roared in fury and he ducked away from the tall grey cloaked figure without second thought, running as fast and as hard as he could away from those pursuing him, panting in the heated air.
"Snape! We'll kill you for this!" the voice roared and he ran even harder, sobbing for breath and wondering what was going on.