Simon Says

Disclaimer: I do not claim any of J.K Rowling's wonderful work. Hence, the disclaimer.

Summary: During the summer after his fourth year, Harry learns about the darkness within himself, discovers the power the Dark Lord knows not, and makes a new friend.
Eventual Slash

AN: Review please?

Harry slowly came to, his body aching. It felt like all of the energy from earlier had been drained from him, leaving a hollow shell. He could hardly move his limbs without strenuous effort.

Harry groaned when he realized that he was in the hospital wing again. He was sick and tired of the disgusting healing potions. He murmured a thanks to the Dursleys for never taking him to the doctors. He'd heard that muggle doctor visits were actually worse, if that was even possible.

"Ah, I see you're awake Mr. Potter," Pomfrey chirped out of nowhere. He groaned in agreement and kept still as she ran some diagnostic spells. Afterwards, she frowned.

"You have no present physical damage but your magical level is extremely low. And…" she paused, guilt written on her face, "I'd like to run more tests to explore these old injuries."

"Old?" he weakly asked, filled with dread. He already knew what injuries she spoke up (a particularly bad beating from Dudley and his friends rose to mind, where they broke all the fingers of his right hand. It still caused him problems today, evidence being his horrible writing), but he still hoped it was something as simple as a scab scar. That he could blame on quidditch.

She interrupted his thoughts, thoroughly dashing his hopes. "Badly healed bones and signs of starvation."

Harry had no reply. Based on her reaction it seemed she had been expecting these results. After his disappearance from the Dursleys, it was an inevitability that his secret would be discovered.

But it was still jarring. Not wanting to see the pity on her face, Harry turned over and buried his face into the pillow.

He heard her sigh and move away from his bed.

"I am so sorry," she murmured before leaving the room. He risked a peek and sighed, happy with the solitude. However, before he could completely relax Harry caught sight of a very unwelcome figure occupying the bed next to him.

It was a sleeping Snape. It was silly, but Harry had always entertained the thought that Snape never slept and busied his nights stalking the halls and torturing stray hufflepuffs. To see him doing something so human was jarring.

Harry's gaze traveled downward and halted. A jagged red scar curled from the left side of his neck and ran diagonally across his chest, where it disappeared beneath his collar. Harry wondered how far down it traveled, if it traversed the planes of his chest—or Merlin forbid, if it reached his leg.

Harry remembered the screams he heard before passing out. Burning shame pooled in his stomach, and he wondered, did I do that?

He struggled to fall asleep, unable to get the image of that scar out of his mind. He felt a strange kinship with Snape and hoped the slytherin's scar wouldn't burn as his did.

Although he hated Snape, he knew that once they both woke up an apology was due.

"Just a bit further!" Harry urged his brother. They crouched in anticipation, hungrily peering through the air vent at the floating food. Perspiration beaded on Simon's forehead as he kept the food afloat.

Finally, the apples and loafs of bread reached the tiny door and hovered just out of reach.

Harry pressed his hand against the door and thought of the aching emptiness he had felt for days. He thought of his brother, frail and tiny with starvation. Righteous anger and desperation swelled within him like a wave.

The outside latch slid apart with a loud snap and the cupboard door swung open. Harry snatched the food from the air and beamed proudly at his brother. Simon had collapsed onto the cot and was breathing shallowly, but he returned the smile.

"We did it."

They had a fine dinner that night. They didn't understand their power, but did understand that together they were strong. Together, they survived.

"Slytherin!" the hat bellowed across the Great Hall. Simon hopped off the stool and Harry sent his brother a relieved smile from his seat. They were together—and the Slytherin house wouldn't know what hit them.

Unbeknownst to them a certain professor sat at the head table, astonished fury coloring his face.

"Join me," Tom hissed, an enticing smile carved onto his face. "You are a Slytherin and a parselmouth… is it not destiny?"

"I don't believe in destiny."

"But you must! We will be great together."

Time was short. Simon had collapsed onto the stone next to him, still conscious but weakened from the diary, and Harry was bleeding, his arm oozing with the poison from the basilisk fang. Despite the death of his precious pet, Tom did not display fury—instead, his eyes gleamed and he offered a partnership (more like servitude) to Harry. To join Lord Voldemort in his reign of terror—as if!

Harry grabbed the fang and drove it deep into the journal. Tom screamed, his soul tearing itself apart.

"I can't believe that man," Harry hissed, clutching the wanted parchment close, " He's a monster!"

Simon bumped shoulders with him. "Technically, my godfather's the monster."

Harry snorted. "Lupin is the gentlest man I know."

"I don't think so. I saw some pretty vicious bruises on Tonk's neck—"

"Mental images!" Harry laughed, clutching his head as if to shake the pictures out. He cupped a handful of snow and lobbed it at his brother. The dust of white powdering Simon's hair was utterly comical and Harry fell to the ground, laughing. Simon was unamused—this was war.

"My godson is a Slytherin," Sirius said flatly. Next to him, Harry shifted uneasily and nibbled at his lip. His godfather watched him, conflicted, as if searching for something familiar on his face. He must have found it for he relaxed and hugged the boy close. Harry felt ribs prodding into his own and could smell the stink of the tattered prison clothes—but it didn't matter.

"Well, can't say it was a complete shock. You know, Lily was almost sorted into Slytherin."


"Yeah, crazy isn't it? James nearly had a coronary at the news."

Harry frowned. "If he was alive…"

"Don't even think of it. James would have loved you—both of you, no matter what."

Simon threw Draco roughly into the classroom and pressed him against the desk.

"Don't ever say that wordagain," he growled.

Despite his height, Draco was shaking in fear. "Yes, I promise."

Simon stared into his eyes and nodded, pulling back. "Good. If you do, consider our friendship ended. I won't allow intolerance from you—you're better than that."

"My father—"

"He's an idiot."

With that, Simon strolled out of the classroom, ignorant to the silver eyes following his exit.

Someone threw Simon into the broom closet and pushed him up against the wall. It was Draco—looking angry, his eyes blazing with something unidentifiable.

"How dare you—"

"Do what?"

"Get inside my head. Destroy—destroy everything!" Draco hissed, his hot breath on Simon's face. Then he forcefully pressed his lips against Simon's, teeth clashing.

Simon had not been expecting that. Even more, he never thought he'd return the kiss, or moan into it like a wanton whore.

In the next months, friendly touches turned into the drag of fingernails across skin as they tumbled into broom closets and classrooms, any empty space they could find that would grant them just a few moments alone.

Simon was… happy? No, he was beyond happy; he was bursting with an emotion he'd never felt before.

With his happiness came an urge to give. It was Harry's turn. His brother also deserved someone and Simon had the perfect person in mind.

During class Simon saw it—the possibilities. Harry and Severus fit perfectly. Simon planned to jam the damaged, jagged puzzle pieces together. It would be messy and it would take some tweaking, but in the end, they would thank him.

It began with the training sessions. Harry was so blatantly not what Severus had expected him to be that the potions professor had no choice but to think differently of him. And as Harry improved in battle, Severus allowed just a shred of respect. Moreover, while Severus gave a little, Harry gave back. He'd never been able to distinguish between his potions professor and the Dursleys but once Severus proved that he wasn't entirely cruel, Harry allowed a little leeway, a little trust.

They respected each other and over time they built a friendship, albeit a rocky one, but a friendship nonetheless. They still fought, oh yes they fought, but it no longer held the raw animosity it once did.

Severus watched Harry, his eyes filled with confusion and a bewildered affection, as if he never expected himself capable of it. His taunts lost their fervor and his hand lingered too long when he helped Harry up from nasty falls during training.

In return, Harry slowly allowed someone into his stony fortress.

Simon smiled. They would be together—very soon.

"I don't need him."

Simon stared at his brother in disbelief. This was all wrong—Harry was under the misunderstanding that he could only have one or the other, Severus or Simon, like he expected the universe to snatch Simon from him if he chose Severus. He was unaware that he didn't have to choose, that he could have them both.

"No matter what I'm still your brother! Take him, you need him," Simon urged.

"I only need you."

His voice was flat and his eyes half-lidded. This was bad—Harry had already withdrawn into a hard shell of protection. Something must have happened… it seemed after Harry got too close, got too comfortable, he pulled away from Severus. It was a fear of trust, commitment, and love. Almost everyone Harry had loved had left him or had died, so it was only understandable that he was afraid.

Harry was making the choice to return to Simon—the cocoon of safety.

Simon and Harry exchanged glances and then grasped the cup's handle in the same way they did everything- together. They whirled into the graveyard, into the realm of the enemy.


Simon shook his brother frantically, but Harry was lost in a fog of pain that only one man could cause. His scar burned red, and Simon held his brother close as he watched in dread as the monster rose from the mist.


His wand was ripped from his hand, and Simon whirled around to face the thief but paused in shock—it was Draco, looking utterly out of place in a death eater robe. Simon glanced around, seeing that the other death eaters were preoccupied as they watched the connected spell between Harry and Voldemort.

Draco grabbed his chin and pleaded, "Just go Simon!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I spoke with Dumbledore. He said it was for the—"

"Greater good," Simon finished. Dumbledore was using Draco by training him to be Severus' successor. He wouldn't allow it.

For now though he pulled Draco behind a tombstone, knowing the slytherin was taking a huge risk simply speaking to him. "I cannot leave," he softly said, touching the blonde's cheek tenderly.

"Harry will be fine. Severus is coming—" Draco cut off mid sentence, his eyes widening as he looked past Simon's shoulder. Before Simon could react, Draco tackled him to the grass, a green light bathing him.

He slid from beneath Draco and looked down into glassy eyes. Dead eyes, dead Draco.

Everything froze in Simon—his heart, his lungs—who dared to take Draco away from him? Simon felt a chasm tearing apart inside of him, thirsting for revenge.


Simon whirled around snarling. Lucius Malfoy glared at him with hate-he had killed Draco, his own son!

"Aveda Kedavra!" the man yelled. This time Draco wasn't there to push him to the ground, to die for him. In a split second Simon remembered their research together, their search for escape plans.

"Vicis Varietas!" he shouted, hoping it would work without his wand. It did, but he wasn't fast enough.

Still in the process of traveling the killing curse struck him. He screamed in pain, his nerve endings tingling and the green light ripping his insides apart. He thought of Harry and Draco—the two most important people in his life.

Then, Simon was in a tiny cupboard all too familiar with his brother (no, this one was too small) staring at him in bewilderment.

Simon awoke shuddering. The serum still lingered in his system, leaving him in a drunken like state and it took him a few minutes to realize that he was alone in the chamber—meaning that Harry had left him, likely distressed.

Simon had a purpose in this world. He would fix his mistakes and fix this Harry, who had been damaged in ways the other Harry was not. To win the war his healing was a requirement. Plus, Severus and Harry would be together no matter what it took. He only hoped once he left the other world, Harry had sought Severus for comfort and had realized that they were meant to be together.

And here—he swallowed—here, he would save Draco. He would kill Lucius Malfoy before the man had the chance to kill either of them.

Everything would go right in this world.

Now it was time to confront Albus with his plans, and hopefully Harry wouldn't be angry with him for too long.

Simon closed his eyes and called upon Hogwarts, feeling the warm magic run its fingers through his hair. Oh, how he had missed the castle. Politely, he whispered, "Thank you for your help. If you would, please give us light."

The warm air departed with a kiss on his cheek and then the torches lit up, burning softly in the chamber. He smiled in gratitude and wished for luck before pushing through the stone door that led directly to Albus' office.

The office was as he remembered it. It overflowed with gleaming trinkets (most of them useless) and Fawkes stared at him with annoyance from his wooden perch. The bloody bird had never liked him, instead showing favoritism towards Harry.

Albus was folding and unfolding the black crane, deep in thought. It seemed his message had left a lasting imprint.

"Hello Albus."

The old wizard looked up in surprise, but his blue eyes quickly turned calculating. He gestured for Simon to take a seat but the younger boy ignored the offer.

"I have a few more requests," Simon said, buffing his nails against his shirt. He was an expert at negotiation, especially with people like Albus who believed they were better. The trick was to bring them down to size.

"What else can I do for you?"

Simons' eyebrows rose incredulously at the bitter tone. He has the audacity to be angry?

"You have a lot to make up your failures," Simon replied, placing his hands on the desk. He made sure to curve his nails into the wood to leave crescent indents; little reminders of his strength.

"You are correct." Albus tilted backwards away from the threatening gesture, keeping his features carefully blank, but Simon saw past the facade and grinned viciously.

"Then do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, yes of course we do. What do you require?"

"A position," Simon smirked.

"As a student?"

"No, I'm quite tired of school. An an apprentice for Filch. Everyone will think I'm a squib." Oh, this would be fun. This Draco would believe him to be the scum of the earth. His Draco had been much less prejudiced, but that was due to four years of Harry and Simon's influence upon him. Here it would be deliciously challenging.


"Our enemies will underestimate me. Plus, I need to be close to Harry at all times."

"That will be helpful… What must I do?"

"Convince Filch, for one. And then announce me at the welcoming dinner tomorrow night."

"Seems simple enough," Albus murmured, "but there's more to your plans, aren't there?"

"You don't need to know," Simon smiled.

"This isn't in the vow!"

"Not, it is not," Simon sighed, "I don't like manipulating you but I know it's the only method that will work."

"A simple 'please' would work."

Simon laughed. They both knew that was a lie. Albus broke eye contact and rifled through his drawer.

"Lemon drop?" he offered. Simon took it and slipped it into his pocket. He wouldn't dare eating it-years ago it was revealed that the candies had a calming potion in them. Merlin knows what other potions Albus would have them injected with.

He let Albus mull over it as he visited Fawkes. The bird nipped at his fingers, drawing a drop of blood. Simon hissed at the bird who flapped her wings and squawked. The headmaster cleared his throat, bringing a pause to his battle with the phoenix.

"Deal. I will announce your arrival tomorrow."

"I also want to ensure the room of requirement for use."

"Whatever for?"

"Harry's training. I will train him with the assistance of one of your professors."

"Minerva, I presume?"

Simon snorted in amusement. "No, I want Severus."

"You're mad!" he chuckled, "I've tried to have them cooperate with each other for years."

"It will work, I assure you."

"Good luck. Now are we done here?"

"Yes. See you tomorrow evening."

Simon walked to the doorway, pausing on the threshold. "Oh, and the blood wards are down at the Dursleys. You might want to look into that," Simon chirped happily.

Then he departed, strolling back to the chamber of secrets for a well-needed rest.

Hello readers. So this chapter as you see was mostly Simon and his memories. I wanted to establish what the main differences were between this world and his, and also establish his relationship with Draco! I know many people will be like, "You have 4 gay characters? WTF jasdlfkjs!" Okay, first of all it's been scientifically proven that with identical twins, if one of them is gay, the chance of the other also being gay is VERY high. Genetics and all that jazz. And as far as I see it, Draco was gay in the books too. :P

And I know that I've been focusing too much on Simon due to my love for him, but from now on I will resist his sexiness and write more about Harry, our main character! Harry been a little bitch to write but I will persist. I do love him.

Anyways, I hope you liked it and will review. Next chapter I have a bunch of plot holes to tie up and questions to answer (many of them from my reviewers...). Unfortunately, my next chapter will take a little while. I have senior awards night, a creative writing show, graduation, and grad night (not to mention finals -_-). BUT this summer since I have no life there will be a LOT of updates. Yay!


-thunderspeak :)