A Terrible Temptation

A/N - A little pathos anyone? Beta Kate, she is great!

Thanks to: Lucifera, spaz141, Deb, scifichick774, ancientgirl, Helen, tifsuz, Nocturnus, genrou, Kirirsteen, aprilgrey, Laura, Kath,CapmyCApybara, Kristine, Gwen, Mel, Deeble ( wel, honestly how much do we really know abot canon Snape that isn\'t fltered through Harry?)


Chapter 13 – Homesick

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his cauldron to where Severus was standing staring at his notes. To watch Harry’s hands and yet see Severus’ spidery writing being created under the scratching quill was still an odd sight to him. Severus had his head bent down in a characteristic pose that Albus had seen a thousand times before, but in Harry’s body it jarred; there was a subtle wrongness to it that Albus found disturbing.

Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident on Harry’s face. He was so vulnerable in this form, Albus mused. He had been alone so long -- the outcast, the greasy, frightening, nasty Professor Snape -- that he had forgotten that he could be anything else. Now he was surrounded by people who loved and admired him, who sought out his company and gave him their friendship unconditionally. It must be both intoxicating and frightening for the solitary man.

That he was working so hard to find a cure was a testament to his character. There were some who would have thought that suddenly becoming Harry Potter was a dream come true, but Severus was intelligent enough to recognize the inherent horror of the boy’s life. Severus was also strong enough to give up the more pleasant aspects for the good of all concerned. That he would do that, knowing that it meant a return to a life of slavery to two masters, even if one was a benign old man who loved him like a son.

“How is it coming, Severus?” Albus asked the younger man gently. Severus looked up, his eyes focusing slowly as he gathered his thoughts.

“Well…” He trailed off and grabbed at his forehead in sudden pain. “Bloody hell!” He cried out and Albus stretched out a hand in dismay as he doubled over. Severus grabbed his wand. “Occlumens!” he shouted and his face went still with intense concentration.

Albus understood immediately what had happened. Tom had tried to gain access to Harry’s mind and Severus had been distracted enough to be caught unawares.

“Severus, are you all right?” He asked his Potions professor as the mtoodtood stock still, his face filled with an expression of fierce anger that Albus had never seen on Harry’s face before. There was such a difference in how they wore that body; Albus was amazed that more people hadn’t recognized the truth.

“I’m fine, Albus, though I think I might prefer a summons to that particular pain.” This was probably as close to sympathy for Harry that Severus would ever express.

“I can only imagine how distressing it must be.” Albus admitted to the sour-faced young man.

“It’s bloody annoying is what it is! How am I supposed to concentrate with him nibbling round the edges like that?” Severus muttered. “To answer your earlier question, Albus, it is not going at all well. At this rate, I will be stuck in this body ‘til Potter is old and gray.” Albus watched him clasp his hands behind his back and begin pacing.

“Vector is an idiot but certainly even she could solve those equations.” Severus waved an irritated hand at the pile of papers that the Arithmancy professor had returned to them with a negative answer.

“She is quite a good teacher but she is hardly a top member of her field, as you are, Severus.” Albus smiled apologetically at the prickly man as he stalked back and forth past the table. Severus often forgot that not everyone was as intelligent and accomplished as he was.

“Well, we need someone to solve them. I am a Potions Master, not an Arithmancer.” He spat as he gesticulated angrily.

“I will see what we can do. A certain degree of secrecy is needed here, you know.” Albus reminded him with a tiny smile. Severus grumbled, but packed his book bag and headed out with a short nod. Albus worried for him. Severus had gone through so very much and been so very alone. Once they had returned him to his own body, would the contrast prove too great?


Severus was still grumbling as he headed to the Hospital Wing. The last couple of nights he had come here to look at what he had lost. He had stared hungrily at his own body and wished that there were a way to simply will himself back into it.

Albus was always so bloody optimistic; Severus was a glass half empty man, himself. He was frustrated and angry that, after all the hard work he had put into analyzing the potion and working on a counter for it he was stymied because Vector couldn’t do the Arithmancy.

He stepped into the Hospital Wing only to be stopped in his tracks by a startling sight. Hermione, her hair twisted up behind her with her wand stuck through it to hold it in place, was sitting next to his bedside and reading to his supine form.

“And by adding the Asphodel more slowly and stirring it at a lower temperature, you receive a far higher potency.” She was reading an article from Le Journal des Potions. She had translated it to English with a charm, he surmised. He normally read it in the original French but he wouldn’t quibble.

Light fell on her hair, creating a halo around her. Her soft cheek was all he could see of her face but her expression he could guess -- she would have that tiny frown she got when she concentrated. She turned a page and continued to read and he was completely at a loss. Why was she here?

“Hermione?” She whirled at the sound of his voice and blushed, looking wrong-footed.

“Harry?” She dropped the Potions Journal and he realized that she was embarrassed. “I, uh, was just checking on Professor Snape.” She admitted, while clenching her hands hard at her sides.

“Oh, I see.” He didn’t know what to say so he defaulted to something neutral. She blinked and then relaxed and it occurred to him that she had been expecting him to laugh at her or be angry about it.

Severus walked over to his body and looked down at it with concern.

“He looks thinner.” Hermione was concerned for him; he was startled to see her chewing on her lip in worry.

“Well, he can’t eat. Poppy is feeing him with potions, but it simply isn’t the same as eating a real meal.” Severus answered. He too felt rather concerned. If his body died, what would happen to Harry? Would Severus be stuck forever as the boy-who-lived or would his mind die with his body and would Harry be dragged back to his own form? Would Harry Potter die, but Severus live on his body and what would that do to the Prophecy?

“What will happen to him? Isn’t there anything we can do?” Hermione was clenching and unclenching her fists, her face filled with true distress.

“Professor Dumbledore is working on the problem.” He was watching her as she watched his body and it occurred to him that there were few people in the world who really cared if he lived or died. That Hermione Granger, Gryffindor know-it-all, could be one of them had never occurred to him. “Most everyone is glad to be rid of him, you know.” He told her with a rueful smile.

“Are you one of them?” She asked him with an expression of curiosity. Once more he was compelled to be honest with her.

“No, I want him back. I used to think that I hated him, but it’s different now.” He knew that he was speaking of Harry, but he supposed it was true about him as well. He didn’t hate himself as much these days. Knowing that he could be someone different from the part he played had eased some of the pain of being the Greasy Git.

“I never hated him, Harry. I always thought that if he weren’t a spy for the Order and I weren’t a Gryffindor, we would have gotten along pretty well. But he can’t be nice to me where Draco and the other Slytherins can see it, and besides he’s been alone so long I am not even sure he knows how to be nice anymore.” He was staring again. He found himself doing that a lot lately. When she wasn’t waving her raised hand frantically on the other side of a desk from him, she was tolerable as a person.

“He knows how to be nice.” Severus wished there was a way to continue being Hermione’s friend after the switch back was accomplished. However, any friendship between them would be misconstrued either by the other students and teachers or by Voldemort. The latter would be fatal for both of them. “He just isn’t willing to pay the price for it.” Her eyes were filled with an understanding far beyond her years.

“It must be terrible always having to be something you’re not.” She was staring at the still sleeping face of her Potions Professor with heart-breaking compassion.

“Yes, it must be.” A wave of longing rolled over him and he fought back tears. He just wanted to go home.