Summary: Severus has seen many a kind of strangeness in his years of life. However, none seem to even grace the presence of one certain mystery - Harry Potter. The boy leads trouble from the moment he set foot on the stones of Hogwarts, and yet, the troubles seem deeper and much darker than usual.
The more he tries to untangle the mystery of a certain Potter, the more he gets tangles in the mess. Will it be that Severus can know Harry, or will it be that he looses his own identity?
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape, Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Blaise Zabini, Draco, Hedwig, Hermione, McGonagall, Original Character, Pomfrey, Remus, Voldemort
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving, Snape is Stern
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Supernatural
Media Type: None
Tags: Abuse Recovery, Animagus!Harry, Depression Recovery, Evil!Albus, Runaway, Slytherin!Harry, SuperPower! Harry
Takes Place: 1st Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Character Bashing, Character Death, Emotional Abuse, Neglect, Physical Abuse, Profanity, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Suicide Themes, Torture, Violence
Chapters: 4 Completed: No
Word count: 4905 Read: 3145
Published: 22 Aug 2022 Updated: 19 Sep 2022
I do NOT own any of the characters in this story(alright...except for the OCs. Those babies are mine).
I do NOT encourage plagiarism. Please do NOT copy this work elsewhere.
Hope you enjoy the story!💖
1. Prologue by DeathAngel
2. Speech and Scar by DeathAngel
3. First Class and First Detain by DeathAngel
4. The Lion, The Snake and The Friend by DeathAngel
Reading the tags, I know that you guys believe this to be just another story where Snape rescues Harry and all that. But trust me, this story has way more things to it that you guys can even imagine.
The dark night sky matches the aura of two certain individuals - one specific Severus Tobias Snape and one specific Harry James Potter. While the Potion Master's mood is darkened by the prospect of the brat's arrival, the said brat's soul is darkened by the prospect of having to face a certain Headmaster.
As he sets foot in the Great Hall, Harry's soul darkens to the point of insanity, but he reigns it in. Nobody must know what I hide. And hence, he tries to calm his ever growing hate and hides behind feigned innocence. A name is called, a hat is placed and a decision is made - one which rocks the Wizarding World to it's very core and confuses the hell out of a certain greasy-haired man.
The Golden Boy is placed in Slytherin.
To be continued...
It's short for the fact that it's the prologue. Not to worry, my dear readers. The length of the actual chapters will be more. Hope you guys liked it!
Speech and Scar by DeathAngel
The standard Slytherin speech is given. Friends are made and secrets are relived.
Shock and Disbelief~~~~
The only two words which can be used to describe the emotions which Severus is currently feeling. The brat is in his House, in Slytherin. Hell surely has become Antarctica. With his family having been in Gryffindor for centuries, surely even Potter was to be in the same House. Or so he had thought, until the illusion was shattered completely just minutes ago.
Apparently, the entire Great Hall was thinking the same, for the entire place is in a lack of any sound. Silence envelopes the entire place as everyone seems to be in shock. Amidst their shock, none notice the small, sly smirk which graces Harry's lips for a second before it vanishes and a blank mask takes it's place. Even as he sits at the Slytherin table, all of his housemates seem to be in shock.
What the hell has gotten into them?! A sneer mentally forms, but Harry suppresses it into a mask of cool indifference. The rest of the Sorting goes by with no more shocks or surprises. And yet, nobody is able to move past the sorting of one certain Harry James Potter. Soon, the food arrives and as everyone digs in, conversation flows.
While some express their genuine surprise at the fact that a Potter would be sorted into Slytherin, others expressed their extreme disgust. None of this, however, reaches the ears of Harry, for none of it matters to him. A thousand words are aimed at him and none fall to the prey of his ears. A thousand eyes stare and yet, only one seems to slightly unnerve him. That of the Head of his House.
Severus keeps a constant watch on the brat, not out of adoration - Merlin help! - but rather out of curiosity. The brat is nothing like he expected him to be. Arrogance, pride...none of it seems to even touch his surface. If anything, a slight slyness seems to reside in him, surrounding by an aura of well-conceited mystery. The carefully hidden visage gives away nothing as to who Potter is, which is all the more confusing to Severus.
Being a spy has it's own perks, one of which is analyzing the slightest expressions and differences in body language. This usually comes in handy when trying to judge his students. However, today, he seems to be at an end when it comes to ascertaining the character of Harry Potter. This terrifies him, for it means that Potter is more of an expert in masking himself than ever known to Severus - a trait which he has known only in Dumbledore and even then, rarely.
As he approaches the Slytherin Common Room with his speech in mind, Severus has the confidence that he can surely stump the vague mystery out of the Potter brat. With that thought in mind and a slight smirk gracing his lips, he glides to the Common Rooms with his robes billowing behind him. As he enters the room, a silence ensues, as the students wait with baited breathes for their Professor to speak.
"The House of Slytherin is the sacred House of Snakes. This house dwells and charges upon brilliance, intelligence and cunningness. Along with these traits, we Slytherins believe in unity and loyalty. If one member of our House faces torment at the hands of anyone out of the House, then the torment falls on the entire House. One's joy becomes everyone's joy in the same way that one's agony becomes everyone's.
I will require complete discipline from my House and I expect a healthy level of competitiveness amongst you lot. Remain untied, remain loyal and remain superior to the dunderheads of the remaining houses. Protect your own and stand for them, for no one else will do so. For the remaining of your schooling, until you reside in Hogwarts, this very room and these very people are to be your family. Hence, it is prudent that you remain civil and refrain from participating in any acts of jealousy or odium towards each other.
If any of you face any hassle in academics or even any personal issues, you are to communicate directly with me. If you wish to speak regarding anything, even if it is just about missing your homes, then you are to approach me. With that being said, you are to remain honest to me when I ask you queries and questions. You may redirect the questions you do not feel comfortable answering, but never, never must you lie to me.”
As he finishes the main part of his speech, Severus takes a glance at his students. The reactions are as expected – some are awe-struck, some are frightened, some even look hopeful. However, as he lets his gaze slide to Potter, something inside of him freezes. The brat is leaning against the wall, crossing his arms and is wearing a blank look.
A look which shouldn’t ever even graze an eleven-year-old is mastered by Potter. As he looks at him, Severus wonders with a horrifying chill as to what may have occurred in the boy’s life for him to be so…blank and masked up. A question to which he hopes to get an answer. Tearing his gaze, forcefully, away from Potter, Severus addresses the rest of the students.
I wish you have a commendable journey at Hogwarts. Have a good night, my little snakes."
With that being said, Severus exits the Common Room and starts towards his own quarters. As soon as the Head of House exits, chatter begins. The consistent noise gives Harry a slight headache and a major irritation, that is, until a pale guy with blonde hair approaches him, closely followed by a guy who has dark, toned skin. Harry slightly tilts his head to examine them and judging by their body language, they don’t seem to mean any harm.
“Hello. I’m Draco Malfoy and this is Blaise Zabini. Good to see that you’re in Slytherin, Potter.”
Harry quietly observes the two boys in front of him. A knack for sensing trouble is something which Harry has mastered in, something which comes in very handy most of the times. As he scans the two boys silently, he notices that they hold nothing but pure and genuine curiosity and honesty. After a second or two, he replies back to their greeting with one of his own – albeit, the voice is guarded and holds no emotions.
“Glad to be in Slytherin.”
A word or two is exchanged between the trio and soon, they bid goodnight to each other. With a swirl of his hand, Harry finishes his daily routine task – no, he isn’t using magic. As soon as he deems it safe, Harry soon escapes into the land of dreams – albeit a troubled one.
As dawn approaches, a certain green-eyed boy finds himself to be the only one yet to be awake. Taking this into his advantage, Harry quickly strides into the bathroom to take a shower and get prepared before anyone wakes up. Ten minutes later, he finds himself completely showered and dressed. As he stands in front of the sink, Harry takes a look at his reflection in the mirror.
Green eyes reflect an innocence so strong that Harry physically reels back. For he knows it that the innocence is fake, for he knows the deceit and darkness in them. For he knows the truth behind those eyes, the painful story behind them.
As he reaches out to turn off the tap, Harry’s shirt sleeve rises up and that’s when he spots it. The damned scar! A thin, white line which encircles around his wrist, shines in contrast to his tan, light brown skin. A sneer finds itself on Harry’s face as he looks at the scar. And suddenly, the hate transforms into fear.
The sound of metal clanging is heard, mixed with small, painful whimpers of a boy. The metal cuts into the tender skin as blood flows mercilessly. Whispers of an older man is heard, telling him to sush down.It’ll be alright, my love. Don’t be afraid.
Pain so agonizing, it was blinding. Liquid seeping out of his body…blood? Maybe. Hurt. Agony. Shame. Pleading. Blinding rage. Helplessness. A druggy-haze. Numbness. Unknown pain. A scream.
As he’s pulled away from his memory, Harry’s sneer becomes very prominent. A blinding darkness threatens to suffocate him and he welcomes it. Bordering on insanity, he welcomes the darkness which transfers from his soul into his eyes. A cold-hearted malice resides in his soul and it grows outwards into his very eyes. The innocent, emerald-like green eyes become distant and is filled with a loathing so strong, even Hades would turn away.
As his eyes turn a dark black, the scar on Harry’s wrist vanishes into nothingness.
To be continued...
Like I said...this story is not your normal one.
Hope you liked it💖
First Class and First Detain by DeathAngel
Harry's first Potions class sure has some pretty(maybe not pretty) shocks for Severus in store.
Life has given few joys to a certain potions master. It was this notion that compelled his mind to take at most joy and pleasure in the different methods that he could torment the Potter boy on his first day in the mercy of Severus’ class. Each idea was better than the previous and with each passing thought, his smirk seemed to only seemed to widen a bit more.
It is with those thoughts in mind that Severus strides into the year’s first Gryffindor-Slytherin potions class. Curious and scared first years look up at him in wonder. The dimly lit dungeon classroom only enhances his complex and frightening aura, something which quite commonly is known to be the “dungeon bat aura” – a term which Severus finds highly amusing and irritating at the same time.
“There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those selected few who possess, the predisposition... I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”
As he looks around, Severus notices the Potter brat scribbling on a piece of parchment – a work which irritates him and yet gives him joy. Now I have just the perfect opportunity to make sure the brat knows his place. As he speaks the next part, Severus looks directly at Harry.
“Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention! Mister Potter. Our new celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”
Severus is so certain that Potter will not be able answer the question, especially considering the fact that the said question is from year three. As he thinks of the answer, a small smirk slowly forms on the brat’s face. This is something which confuses Severus. What in Merlin’s name is funny about the question?
“Asphodel and Wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death, Professor.”
The answer earns quite a lot of awe-inspired stares. If it goes by anything, although it’ll vehemently be denied later on, Severus barely is able to restrain his own mouth from dropping open in shock. That is a lot to say, considering the fact that he is a master of his emotions. How does he know the answer?
“Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”
The smirk only grows wider before Harry answers, “A Bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons.”
”And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”
“Monkshood and Wolfbane are the same plant which also goes by the name of Aconite.”
A shocked silence is all Severus finds in his class and for the first time in long, he is rendered speechless. The Potter brat is not dumb or incompetent, that much credit can be given to him. As he looks at the boy, he can sense a smugness in the smirk being thrown in his direction, as though saying Didn’t expect me to be this way, eh? Truth be told, Severus truly did not.
“Very well. 15 points to Slytherin.” After all, appearances have to be kept up. “Today, we shall be brewing a simple Boil Cure Potion. The instructions are on the board and the brewing method is also given, quite in detail, in your books as well. The ingredients will be in the store which you can see to your left. You have 2 hours. You may begin.”
As he observes his students, Severus notices something which truly shocks him. The Potter brat is doing a phenomenal job of his potion by following all the said and given instructions quite clearly and with accurate precision. This makes Severus very confused and in turn frustrated, for this shatters all his illusions of who indeed the boy is.
As he ponders upon this, a loud hissing sound is heard from the other end of the room. Longbottom. Why am I not surprised? As he strides over to the stuttering boy, he notices from the corner of his eye that the Potter brat is quicker. He looks on with wonder as the brat manages to save the potion and prevents a disaster.
“Mr.Longbottom, are you really that incompetent to follow even the simplest of instructions? Ten points from Gryffindor! The rest of you, clear up your workstations and hand me over a vial of your potion.”
As he looks at all the potion vials, Severus notices that only Granger, Potter and Draco have finished the potion perfectly. Never to admit it, but somewhere, deep in his heart, he sure is impressed by the potions skills of the Potter brat – not just for the perfectly brewed potion but also for saving a completely useless case of Longbottom’s potion from exploding.
As he looks at the Potter brat and the efficiency of his work, Severus cannot help but wonder about the boy. There’s something about the brat that both bothers and intrigues him to no end. He seems to be a complete blank slate – nothing like assumed and Severus does not intend to keep it that way. With that in mind, the potions master calls out to the brat.
“Mr.Potter, do stay behind.”
Annoyance darts across Harry’s mood, but he quickly schools it into a mask of indifference as he looks at his Head of House. A passive face is all will be seen by the man, but only Harry knows what is lurking behind and beneath it. That is the way it is and that is the way it shall always remain.
“Mr.Potter, care to explain it to me as to how you managed to perfection the potion?”
Having caught on the train of thoughts of his beloved Potions Master, Harry replies in a feigned innocent voice, “I followed the instructions carefully sir and that resulted in the potion being a success.”
“Somehow I find that very hard to believe, especially considering the fact that you answered all the answers I previously asked questions.”
Now we’re going somewhere. Very well Snape, taste a bit of your own medicine. “I studied the material professor, and hence I know the answers.”
“Impossible Potter! Those questions were from third year books and there is no way you should have known the answers.”
As soon as the words leave the mouth of Severus, he curses himself inwardly at being stupid enough to let this slip. He never meant for the brat to know this. However, as he watches a small and sly smirk form on his face, Severus does wonder whether the boy knew and was deliberately trying to rile him in order to get answers.
“Well then professor. There’s the truth and the crux of the matter. Why is it that I was asked third year questions when I am a first year?”
When Severus is not able to gather an answer satisfying enough to evade the question, the brat continues in a slightly venomous and yet, a smooth and even voice. One which not only confuses Severus(First years have quivering, scared voices in front of him, not such tones for Merlin’s sake!), but also slightly unnerves him. The brat is honestly being downright terrifying by such a demeanour.
“You find pleasure in finding my flaws and my imperfections. But when I give you none, you find ways and mysteries impossible for me to solve and throw them at me, even if it’s at the cost of unfair authority. But remember this professor, your hate is misplaced, your prejudice will do nothing but serve you fruitlessness. Beware the road ahead professor, for if you continue, the future is precarious for you.”
Now, a shiver truly does run down Severus’ spine, for the way the boy spoke was indeed very frightening. The eery sense of foreboding which laced in the brat’s voice mixed with the accuracy in his accusations truly scared Severus. How in Merlin’s name does the boy know all that he accused me of?
However, all the words spoken before pale in comparison and are long forgotten when Harry opens his mouth once again to speak,
”I am not my father, Professor Snape.”
To be continued...
I am so sorry for the late update. I was a bit busy with life and such.
By the way, do you guys want guardian Snape or Biological Father Snape?
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!💖
The Lion, The Snake and The Friend by DeathAngel
As an encounter between Harry and a certain Weasley reveals some mysteries, Harry has a heart to heart conversation with a friend.
As the descending night brings cascading moonlight to shine upon the entire Hogwarts, a serenity is brought upon in the atmosphere. This, however, remains in the dark when reaching out to a certain potions master whose mind is a downward spiral of an absolute abyss of darkness.~~~~
Severus remains seated on the same couch of his living room that he sat on for the past two hours pondering upon the mystery which identifies itself as Harry James Potter. The words spoken by the boy were haunting and honestly terrifying. Never before has Severus felt such dread settle in him and that is saying something, considering everything he has seen during his Death Eater days.
How in Merlin’s name did the brat know exactly what I was thinking? The most prominent thought out of all of them remains the question. A question to which Severus has no answer. Nobody has revealed it to the brat about his relationship with the boy’s father, something that he is certain of. Then how in Merlin’s name is it that he knows of the fact that Severus has a strong loathing for Potter because of his father?
A question among many others which he doesn’t have an answer. That will change however Severus determines. He wants answers and he will obtain them, by hook or crook.
As Harry walks towards the dungeons from his walk, he hears a pair of footsteps. Although being followed, he keeps his calm, feigns ignorance and keeps walking. If anything deadly does happen…well I can just show them exactly who I am. A frightening intention mixed with calm acceptance is what makes Harry stalk forward towards his destination. However, a voice stops him.
“A Potter in the Snakes Den. What a shame indeed and truly disgusting that the Boy-Who-Lived ended up being a slimy snake. Merlin knows that you defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just to become the next Dark one.”
Of course it’s Ronald Weasley. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry turns to the redhead and allows just the slightest bit of venom and cold malice to enter his voice as he speaks. Not enough to notice and act upon, but enough to give a finality to his words.
“You know, Weasley, if I did have such intentions, believe me, I would’ve acted upon them already. I don’t need waiting for anything if I want to become the next Dark One. I can do it right now, and I can start it by killing you. But I am not doing that, am I? Truly not and truly not do you know me. So I suggest that you concentrate on yourself and your own House rather than speak about me and mine.”
Appears that the prat didn’t get the message for he continues in the same teasing voice. However, his words surely are anything but teasing. In fact, the malice in them brings out the darkness and insanity lurking in Harry’s soul.
“Your parents would honestly be ashamed of you if they were alive. It indeed is a good thing that they aren’t here to see their son become a snake.”
Harry swiftly turns around and slams the redhead to the wall not too gently. A growl threatens to erupt from his throat but he restrains it with great difficulty, just like he restrains the darkness from showing in his eyes. When he speaks, Harry allows his complete and true malice to show, making his voice go silky and cold. He truly sounds like a soulless, haunted child.
“Listen here and listen carefully Weasley. Just because I tolerate people, it does not mean that I’ll do it every damn time. Speak another word against me or my people and I’ll damn well make sure that you won’t see the next day’s Sun. And I’ll do it in such a way that not even the brightest of the people will be able to figure out just how you died. If you want to live, I suggest that you start behaving and stop speaking shite about my matters.”
Just for the likes of it, Harry even allows a small growl to escape from his mouth. He pushes the prat once more into the wall, making sure to allow his bones to dig painfully into the stones, before he releases him. By the pale and horror-struck face of the Weasley, Harry guesses that he understood not to take him lightly. With a slight smirk, Harry stalks away.
With too much insanity inside him, Harry walks off in the opposite direction of the dungeons. He needs to let off his rage before it consumes him. With this thought in mind, Harry stalks towards the lake. As soon as he reaches the fields overlooking the lake, he scans the area to see if anybody else is there. Satisfied on being alone, Harry slowly lets loose.
As he allows himself to close his eyes and relax, Harry feels the darkness threatening to consume him. He welcomes the suffocating insanity and embraces it like an old friend. The madness swirls within him and boils over. As he opens his eyes and looks at his reflection in the waters of the lake, Harry is pleased to find them as dark and black at the above night sky.
Allowing more of the blank, void darkness to consume him, Harry can feel it reach out to the other parts of himself. The veins in his hands pop out slightly and slowly but steadily change from their usual green to a sinister black colour. Black like the Soul. Black like Death. A small, relaxing smile forms on his lips, but taking the black eyes and dark veins into consideration, it only gives him a haunting look.
A thick black fog surrounds him as black, liquid-like smoke seeps out from his hands and moves towards the Earth. A sinister chill settles in the atmosphere around him as haunted depression lurks in the very atoms of the space. All of this however, seems to only give him encouragement as he lets out more of the black darkness from the insides of himself and his soul.
After what seems to be an eternity, Harry finally slows down and the darkness and the chills fade. His veins return to their normal colour and his eyes return from the sinister, malicious black to the serene, innocent green. Feeling lighter than before, he lets out a small sigh of pure joy and contentment.
“Enjoying the time, little one?” A gentle voice asks.
Harry perks upon hearing the voice. His usually dull eyes spark with the lights of joy and he brightens in a way that nobody has ever witnessed…well nobody except his Dark Friend. The gentleness of his voice is truly a contrast to his appearance. With dark robes adorning his body and black eyes, Azrail truly looks every bit his name and identity.
“Azrail! It’s been long. I missed you. Why didn’t you meet me sooner, I had so much to speak to you about. Never mind it, you’re busy. But now, let’s speak. This place…Hogwarts is beautiful. I’m a Slytherin, just like I thought. I mean, no other house can stand my darkness, nor can they understand it.”
“Little one, what you have isn’t darkness. It’s a beauty, a gift and a boon. Don’t insult yourself by calling it darkness, for you are not dark.”
Azrail frowns as he thinks about the fragility of the self confidence which Harry possesses. The lad has such self-deprecating thoughts that it honestly is disheartening. The complex intensity of his mind and the pains of his soul makes him powerful, but the little bird is too shattered at the moment to truly accept it.
“Well…it in a way is darkness Azrail. Whether you accept it or not. While I am a human, I am also something more sinister. And although it truly is a gift, a boon, one which helped me survive, it will also help me torture, kill and maim – all of which are dark. Not that I’ll do it, mind you, but it in itself is dark and hence those who possess it do become dark. It does make me dark…although I guess it is a tainted darkness.
It has light in it, for it offers safety and protection. It has light for I refuse to bow down completely to the dark. In a way like you, I guess. Although you hold the entirety of the power…you don’t use it for your joy. You help, you give people life and choices, you give them security…something which I was given by you. Although I have darkness residing within me, I am not dark. I am under your shelter, so how can I be dark? How can I be tainted when my Azrail is pure? The answer is I can’t and I am not as well.”
Azrail just smiles gently and steers the conversation to a safer side by asking him about his experiences so far. This lights up his little bird as he speaks with an animated and excited voice, making hand gestures ever so often. The more he looks at his little bird, the more Azrail feels protective towards him, the more his heart swells with happiness. His little bird truly is a special one.
“I am a bit weary of my Head of House – Severus Snape. Oh, don’t look at me like that, you know exactly who he is. He seems to hate me for my father’s crimes. Who is to tell him the truth? Should I tell him, Azrail?”
“Lay it gently and slowly on him, my little bird. Telling him at once will only provide him the fuel to his rage, anger and bitterness. He will need to be told slowly, given time to accept, for your words will shatter everything he will have ever known. His allies will fight to change and he will sway precariously. But you need to anchor him to what you know is right. Do not let him loose his way, hold on to him and yet give him space. But most of all, be gentle with him, for Severus Snape will need it.
Your ways of delivering the news and your ways of communication will effect the ordeal a lot. His mind has been played, tormented and tampered with by an old coot, one whose ways you’re familiar with. Bring him not pain, for he cannot handle it. Tread carefully, my brave warrior.”
The seriousness of Azrail’s voice deeply concerns Harry. Just what has that fool done to him? But before he can ponder any further on the thought, the gentle, soothing voice of Azrail swiftly changes the topic to a more safer one and Harry allows it. The atmosphere becomes calming again.
As Azrail and Harry sit on the fields, merrily talking, neither notice nor acknowledge a stuttering man with a purple turban who is lurking in the shadows with a sinister smile and a devilish mind.
To be continued...
So...what do you think Harry is? Who is Azrail? What secrets threaten the sanity of a certain Severus Snape? Read on and see!
Hope you guys enjoyed it!💖
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.