IMPORTANT: I feel like I should let you all know that is most probably eventually going to have graphic scenes of varying actions. Like torture and copulation. Mostly torture, probably. It'll take a (long) while to get there, but I felt you should know, this is not going to be a happy little fic. You've been warned. Also, this IS a slash (yaoi) fic. Get over it, ignore it, or go away. That is all.
Maintaining his distance from his Ravenclaw schoolmates was of little difficulty, as Harry had no interest in study groups, and hadn't lost the House Ravenclaw points, after the first night most were inclined to leave him be.
Not to say they weren't friendly enough, nor he to them, Harry just had no use for anything other than acquaintanceship at this time. The few he would call friend would be his lovely Draco, and perhaps the other Patil twin, Padma, who had simply asked Harry one evening if he would mind being her pseudo-friend so her father would stay out of her business. She had, in turn, offered to arrange for Harry to obtain some rather interesting books originally written by Ferren Flamel, an old flame of Emrys Myrddin. Evidently, no Patil would accept sorting into House Slytherin; all for the best if the Patil family to be underestimated by those families whose prejudice was initially based on a school divisional system.
He considered it a fair trade.
The removal of his head horcrux did wonders for the headaches induced by Quirrelmort during afternoon Defense classes, but Harry found he couldn't make himself much care about pretending to pay attention to the useless stuttering of misinformation. Focusing instead on etching out his plans for Tom's soul, written in ancient Dwarfish, as the written language was long lost to wizarding kind, the days passed in a blur of boredom.
He realized, of course, that he had to get the horcruxes out of Quirrelmort's reach; that soon he would have to get the cup, ring, and locket. First, however, he needed the Diary. Diadem Tom and Diary Tom were very similar, both in attitude and power; and nearly equal in their fragments of the original soul.
Diadem Tom now had Harry's shard of soul, but Diary Tom had been made first, Diadem Tom and Diary Tom were now on more equal footing. If it came down to it, he couldn't be sure which would be victorious in a battle to become the new Base Soul. Somehow, Harry didn't think Diary Tom would welcome Diadem Tom with open arms. Diadem Tom would have to be far stronger than Diary Tom before Harry could allow the absorption to commence, lest he lose Diadem Tom to Diary Tom…all that explaining for nothing. He refused to waste his time here, so the two could not yet meet. And yet…
And yet, he could not have the Chamber of Secrets be a problem. As much as he really did love playing with Malfoys, the situation was perhaps too delicate, as Lucius was not as easily tricked or manipulated as his son. Lucius had no emotional ties in the balance here, no real reason to interact with Harry Potter favorably other than Draco's own friendship with him. Knowing Draco as he did, Harry couldn't expect Lucius to look favorably upon him until Lucius himself had passed judgment on him. While Draco was likely to extend an invitation to the Malfoy Ancestral Manor over the summer holidays, there would not be enough time for Harry to do more than lay the groundwork of ensnaring the elder Malfoys.
He could always lay in wait, for the book to be slipped to the youngest Weasley brat, and use the girl to get a hold of the soul piece. However, the girl would have possession of it, and use it during the weeks before her first year at Hogwarts, thus nurturing the soul contained within it. Making it more powerful, bit by careless bit. There was no way of knowing how often the girl would use it, or how much power the book could leech in that period of time. It was a variable Harry was not comfortable with.
Not that Ginny Weasley would be much of a loss to the wizarding world, but a young Tom Riddle with no loyalties but to himself was a dangerous possibility; one that could not come to pass.
Harry was ripped from his ponderings as the seemingly meek Professor dismissed the class. Gathering his things quickly, he followed his yearmates out the door, idly waving them off as they adjourned to the Great Hall for the feast, as he intended to head up to Ravenclaw tower, when he recalled the date.
All Hallows Eve.
He had forgotten about the troll.
Continuing along his intended route, albeit a bit more quickly, Harry's mind ran through the possible actions he could take, but there was no way of knowing if the youngest male Weasley had insulted Granger enough for her to be upset enough to hide in the girls lavatory and he was not going to risk bringing attention to himself by going to check.
As for the troll…It was too late to stop it from being admitted into the school, and while it was likely Harry wouldn't have stopped it from entering anyway for fear of being discovered by Quirrelmort, Harry needed the mudblood Granger around a bit longer. He had plans for her.
Nothing that couldn't be reassigned to another target, but disappointing to have bothered all the same; none the less, Harry intended to be tucked away in Ravenclaw tower by the time the rest of the Eagles returned to their nest.
So naturally, around the next corner stood the very thing Harry was currently adapting his plans around. This wasn't part of the plan. Though, he should have expected this really, in his last life Quirrelmort had left the troll close enough to the Gryffindor tower it could have found some students. Possibly Harry Potter. Harry really should have anticipated the possessed professor to sick a troll on him. Really he should.
Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat horny feet. The smell, which Harry had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice before, was an incredible stench; its long arms nearly dragging the floor as it appeared to be looking for something, long ears flopping as it searched.
Unfortunately, the troll had definitely seen him; there was no getting away from it without a massive display of magic he couldn't risk in the open corridor. Quietly swearing, his wand in hand, Harry once again prepared himself to battle the troll. He knew the professors would be along shortly, a minute or two really, so if he could stall the beast long enough he might get away with simply being in the right place at the wrong time.
It was well known he liked to wander the castle after classes. Harry had needed that rumor, so as to not be suspicious at not getting lost in his first weeks at the castle. Unwilling to use more impressive magic that might cast suspicion on him, Harry silently cast a few stunners, a cutting hex, and ducks to avoid the grubby hand reaching for him, grumbling his irritation.
"I should have expected this. Blasted Quirrel. But nooo Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Master of Death, prepared for his trip into the past? HA! Of course this happens to me, why wouldn't it? After all nothing. Can. Be EASY." Harry ranted, punctuating his last words with jabs of his wand, erecting a simple 6ft by 4ft rectangular shield around himself. It was a shield a first year Ravenclaw could conceivably have learned with intensive studying; a truly basic "door" shield. Enraged its hand was avoided the troll roared its distress at its snack attempting to escape, to scare it into staying still.
"Do shut up you great lout. Can't you see I'm staging a distressed scene here? Honestly, trolls. No appreciation for dramatics. And what is keeping Dumbledore? This is just like the Light Fraction: never on time for anything." He harrumphed.
The troll, not really understanding what the flesh bag was spouting on about, noticed a shiny lump which could be used to smush the flash bag into bite size pieces, and lobbed it at what would be his snack if it would .moving.
Brought back to the present danger at his pitiful shield beginning to crumble under the pressure of the troll viciously hurling a suit of armor at it, Harry narrowed his eyes. This would not do. He could not keep recasting the shield, as slow as trolls were they weren't completely useless.
He had to stop this now, Dumbledore was taking too long, and Harry was losing his patience with the troll. Wouldn't want to become irritated and use Dark Magic. Summoning his MOD magic to see the String of Moirae.
Like all Life Cords, it was a most luminous yellow color; Harry could see it thrumming, almost begging, as he swiftly severed it, appearing as if he had merely, albeit swiftly, extended his hand out. Usually, Harry preferred to sever the cord in a less obvious way; a twitch of the finger, a literal blink of the eye…but swift hand movements distracted the troll from grabbing him whist he was unprotected. Still, Harry appreciated his dramatics, liked to spice his life up. It's the little things in life, which make you happy you know.
Harry didn't appreciate ending the troll this way. Trolls, while not greatly intelligent in the least, had an exemplary sense of hearing. Dumbledore was a great mind reader, and Harry refused to leave the troll a loose end. The troll had seen too much of Harry, and had to be dealt with before the old man could meddle.
It crashed to the corridor floor, just as the group of professors rounded the same corner Harry had minutes earlier. Fixing a dazed look upon his face, Harry prepared his story.
Time to fix things.
They had all been about to really indulge themselves in the gaiety of Halloween, and indeed had been for several minutes when it happened.
The doors to the Great Hall had burst open loudly; obtaining the attention of all in hall immediately as Quirrel ran, purple turban gloriously askew, to the Headmaster screaming about a troll loose in the castle before fainting. The immediate panic was swift, not one child heard the Headmaster attempt some order, quickly setting off purple firecrackers from his wand, Dumbledore finally gained the silence and attention of the occupants of the Great Hall. Looking down his nose, over his spectacles his voice rang throughout the hall "Prefects! Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"
There was no hesitation, students scrambled to get to their perceived safety. Severus hissed angrily at Dumbledore that the Slytherin dormitories were in said dungeons that apparently now contained a troll.
"Professor Snape…" began one Slytherin Prefect before he was cut off by his Head of House, "The antechamber to your right should hold you all until I return to escort you to you dormitory. Move."
Thus mollified, the Slytherin House shut themselves in to await further instructions, and grumble about the blatant apathetic nature of the Headmaster.
The professors mobilized in groups of two, and set off to cover the castle. Only Dumbledore, Minerva and Severus actually set off for the dungeons, though they didn't get very far before they found a path of destruction leading upwards, and quickened their steps intent on finding the troll before it found a student. They were noticeably worried when they stumbled upon the creatures club, clearly forgotten in the corridor.
"Dumbledore, it must be at least 10ft to carry a club that large."
McGonagall blanched at Severus' words. Ten feet was almost fully grown for a troll in these parts of the world, and their skin was settled into its magical resistance to wizarding spells.
"Quickly now." Dumbledore softly spoke, casting a visible tracking spell on the club. As they continue upwards, they begin to hear the thumping steps and confused grunts. Nearing one of the longer paths to Ravenclaw Tower, the professors felt a slight sense of relief, for this path was the most unfrequented path in this part of the castle as it circled around the tower before leading into the main corridor of Ravenclaw.
However, their relief was short lived as they heard an inhuman roar of rage. The troll could only be angry about one thing. Prey escaping. Bursting into full out sprints, the professors raced to the troll and whatever it had found for a meal. Hogwarts hadn't lost a student to Death since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was on a rampage, and to potentially lose one the year Harry Potter returned to the Magical World could be devastating on their future enrollment.
They could smell it, they were close. So close, if whoever was trapped by the troll could hold on just another moment, just long enough…a loud crash followed by soft muttering and a trollish groan of confusion was heard before the largest crash of them all occurred just as the three professors rounded the last corner, skidding to a stop, wands out, tip glowing with the precursor to stunning spells.
Only to see the troll crumpled in front of a small student, who appeared to be shaking and mumbling to himself. Minerva McGonagall let out a large breath of relief before seeming to come back to herself as she took note of which student standing before her was. Severus Snape forced himself to hold back a sneer at the sight.
It was a dazed and confused Harry Potter, who quite frankly looked about ready to keel over in exhaustion.
"Mr. Potter! Pray tell what you are doing here when all students were taken from the Feast by their Prefects?" Minerva asked sternly, Severus noting the slightly hysterical tone in her voice as Dumbledore finished inspecting the clearly deceased troll. "Indeed, Professor McGonagall echoes my own thoughts Harry. Why weren't you in your dormitory?"
"I-I was on my way there. But there was a troll in the corridor." The boy sounded a bit faint.
"Why did you not stick with your Housemates leaving the feast?" McGonagall's lips were pursed, white, though in anger or fear was anyones guess.
"I wasn't...couldn't… I was going to bed. Did you know, I've not once had a nice Halloween. Never got over the first one you know. Can't escape the memory of it. Maybe next year right?" he finished wide eyes and pale, eyes unfocused.
Severus, realizing what the boy had alluded to, nearly paled himself. 'The boy's last memory of Lily was…' he sucked in a breath. He had to get back to his rooms before he did or said something stupid. Leaving Dumbledore and McGonagall to sort the boy and troll out, Snape returned to the Great Hall, and escorted his Snakes to their dormitory before allowing himself to vanish into his own rooms.
He loathed Halloween.
Ensconced in his rooms, Severus summoned his personal house elf Nippy to bring him his bottle of firewhiskey and a glass, quickly filling it. Dismissing the elf, he slumped onto his chair.
Severus let his memories and emotions flow freely, finally allowing himself to lose his pallor. Potter had…the troll…Halloween. And suddenly, as if it had been yesterday instead of years ago, the words Lilly had once told him, the ones that still haunted him, raced through his mind.
They had been laying out by the lake, under their tree in silence, just taking in the fall day, silently mourning her parents' recent death, when she spoke. "One of the worst things is to be forgotten, don't you think, Sev?"
She laughed sadly at his reply
"I guess in some cases…but that's not what I meant Severus, you know that. I mean…I'd hate to be remembered as 'the girl James Potter let get away' I feel like they don't see me as a person anymore. I want to be remembered as a person, not a challenge."
Here she paused, "Someday, when I'm old, and wrinkly and senile, I want my children to remember me as I am now. How I'll remember my parents. I want them to smile and remember the time I took them to the zoo or went out for ice cream or read them stories before bed…"
"Lilly…" he didn't quite know what to say other than "you're not the kind of person people forget."
She had smiled, eyes watery, and turned back to the sky. It was quite a while later he heard her whisper, "You're my best friend Severus. For always?" And so he answered her, just as he always had, "For always."
Severus shakily exhaled, twisting his full glass in his hands. Lilly was right. She was always right. For Lilly, his beautiful Lilly, who had wanted to be a Charms Mistress, who wanted to travel the world, who wanted to have a big family and live to be old and wrinkly and senile…to be remembered only as her death…was the worst thing.
"One of the worst things is to be forgotten, don't you think, Sev?"
He swallowed the firewhiskey, relishing the severe burn.
A/N: Was the ending too much? I just felt like they had more of a relationship than just Severus pining over her, she had to have liked him as a person. Liked him enough to brave the sneers and slurs of Slytherins in wartime, so they had to have had some kind of good friendship for it to have hurt when it was damaged that badly.
Oh someone offered to adopt this, and I was very conflicted, I love this story. I do. I've been chipping away at it, but I feel like I have no time since Im working all the time. I don't even get to see my nieces, who if you remember, I'd been caring for since she was 3 months old. I feel like Sydney is my baby and I dont see her very much anymore. at the same time, Im very stubborn about this, Im sorry I cant remember who offered, but I cant give it up. It will be finished, we're at Ch. 11 in the book. Its like cheese, it just...takes time.