A Terrible Temptation

A/N - Wow, I have gotten a rather overwhelming amount of responses to this story. Thank you all. Kate, my beta, as always, thanks.

Lizski - I love your stuff! Thank you for reviewing!
ancientgirl - Patience
Deblovesdrag hop hope those URL\'s helped.
Helen - trouble is my middle name - LOL
Genrou - thank you
Gelsey Greeneyes - Sorry for scaring your room mates
Dawning skies - Thank Kate for the Grammatical Correctness, she rocks.
Droxy - Sorry, ma\'am, never happen again, ma\'am, you\'re right ma\'am (don\'t eat me!) :)
Laura - Thanks for catching that, I went back and fixed that
Rosmerta - Thank you
Star - Will do
Zephyr - Thank You
slytheringriffindor21 - Consider it done - LOL
Stellarsnape - Yes, ma\'am



Chapter 3 - An Accident Occurs

Severus settled himself down to address his correspondence. He set his latest letter to the editor of “Potions Today” and his latest article for “Theorem Alchemic” neatly in the stack to go out. He looked over his letter to Herod Flatly again. Herod had asked him a peculiar question and Severus had spent some time researching it before he had been able to send an answer.

September had passed quietly with no sign of the threat that Voldemort had hinted at over the summer. Had it not been for a gut feeling of wrongness that told him the quiet was not to be trusted, Severus would have thought that the danger was past.

Dumbledore had also not called him into his office to discuss what he had done to the Dursleys, which either indicated that the curse had worn off and they hadn’t known how to report him to the Ministry or their neighbors were so relieved by thier conspicuous absence that they were too busy celebrating to call the police. Either way, it looked like he had gotten away with it.

He rose, somewhat stiff from having sat for so long, and carried his mail to the Owlery. The long walk left him time to ruminate on the many possible ways Voldemort could kill Potter. If it wasn’t for that damn prophecy and the stupid debt he owed James, he might be tempted to let the boy die, but defeating Voldemort was far too important to allow his petty dislikes to get in the way.

He pushed open the door of the Owlery to find Harry Potter whistling to his owl, a packet of letters in his own hand. Severus went to the school owls, ignoring the boy, and tied his own bundles onto Hermes’ leg.

Harry made a choking sound from behind him and Severus whirled, spotting the boy as he crumpled to the ground. He raced to him, watching as the boy’s snowy owl jumped about him in agitation.

“Out of the way, you stupid bird.” He snarled and grabbed the boy, quickly casting a diagnostic spell to check the boy’s condition. There was a moment of dizziness, a feeling of dislocation, as though he were apparating, and then he blacked out.


Severus awoke in the Hospital Wing with no memory of how he had gotten there. He usually ended up here after Voldemort had summoned him, but he didn’t feel any of the particular agonies associated with that, so it must be something else. He shifted and looked around; his vision was blurred and unfocused. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes, but the blur remained.

Albus moved into his center of vision. At least he thought it was Albus -- a tall blur of magenta topped by a white blur; it seemed about right.

“Harry? Are you all right?” The tall blur asked him.

“For Merlin’s sake, Albus, I am fine and why are you calling me Harry?” Severus sat up, pushing himself into a sitting position and feeling as though his perspective had somehow changed. Did Albus seem taller?

“Severus?” Albus’s voice sounded rather horrified.

“You were expecting Lucius Malfoy?” He snapped back at the Headmaster. “Why is my vision so blurry?” He was growing concerned about that.

Without saying a word Albus handed him a pair of spectacles. Severus held them in his hands. His hands? No, those were not his hands! He knew these hands though, had watched them mangle potion after potion in his classes for six years. He put the glasses on as his trembling fingers, no, as Potter’s fingers threatened to drop them.

He looked up at his old friend through his enemy’s glasses and saw the pale features quite clearly.

“Bugger.” He breathed out and looked down at the considerably shorter legs that stuck out from his body under the covers. Potter’s body.

“Eloquent as ever, Severus.” Albus sat down on the bed and stared at him. “Your scowl looks decidedly odd on Harry’s face.” Albus’s voice was faint and the fact that he hadn’t wandered off into trivialities was a bad sign.

“How is Mr. Potter?” Severus asked suddenly, for if her were in Potter’s body, where was his own? Albus gestured and Severus turned his head to see himself lying asleep nearby. It was the oddest sensation; it made him feel rather ill in fact, to look at himself from the outside. It wasn’t the mirror image he was used to either, which made it seem wrong, reversed when he looked at his face. “Am I, is he, all right?” Severus wanted out of this body and back into his own.

“As far as we can tell. The plan was to exchange Harry and Hedwig’s minds, rendering Harry useless in the coming battle. Hedwig must have been intercepted taking a message somewhere and a strange amalgam of a portkey and a transference potion was used to evince the switch.” Albus’s words began to sink in and Severus understood that his interference was what had kept Potter from trying to fly out the nearest window.

“An owl’s mind, I see.” It could have been fatal in so many ways and quite untraceable as murder. The boy would have committed suicide; tragic, of course, but then who could stand against the Dark Lord, etc. Excellent propaganda.

“I am not sure that you do, Severus.” His attention was drawn back to Albus’s tired face. “I don’t know how to reverse this.” Severus stared at him and a yawning chasm of fear opened up under him. Was he stuck like this forever? Would he have to relive his life, go to university again all as Potter? But Potter’s O.W.L.s had been dreadful and the NEWTS were coming. Would he have to sit the examination again? He realized that he was panicking and took a steadying breath.

“We will find a way. I do not want to live my life again as Harry Potter.” It came out as a snarl, but Albus’ tiny smile reassured him that even in a different body he was still readable to the Headmaster.

“Harry hasn’t woken up; he seems to be in some sort of coma.” Albus added and Severus frowned.

“Perhaps the Transference Potion didn’t take completely with him, it is only meant to be used on fully developed minds and he is still a boy.” Severus mentally reviewed his encyclopedic knowledge of potions as he pondered the problem. “We could try a booster potion but with the unknown addition of the portkey element, it could be risky.”

“Perhaps we should wait until we have assessed the situation a little bit better.” Albus suggested gently.

“Yes, yes, it was merely a thought; I wouldn’t endanger the boy.” Severus waved off the older man’s concerns, irritably.

“Severus, you do understand that you will have to at least play at being Harry until we can figure out what to do?” Albus wasn’t twinkling; he was dead serious and Severus opened his mouth to protest and then shut it again as his situation really began to register.

He had prevented Voldemort from killing Potter, but the boy was unconscious and trapped in Severus’ own body. First, Severus’ life was forfeit if it got out that he had saved Potter. Second, if it were known that Potter was incapacitated, the final battle would start immediately and the Order wasn’t ready for that.

“We will need a cover story for why I am in a coma.” He agreed with Albus grudgingly.

“Sticking as close to the truth as possible seems the best idea. We will say there was an attempt on Harry but that you accidentally got to the owl first.” Albus leaned back as he spoke, thinking through the situation.

“Yes, Voldemort will think that I check Potter’s mail before he gets it and to everyone else it will simply be a lucky thing that I am either nosy or helpful.” He sneered and shrugged. It wasn’t as though he cared what the dunderheads thought of him.

The next thought occurred to him and gave a headache.

“I will need Potter’s memories if I am to play him with any verisimilitude.” He found the idea distasteful in the extreme and Albus also looked unhappy with the idea.

“It seems such a violation for you to invade his mind while he is so helpless.” Albus murmured.

“Yes, well, our choice is a little mental burglary now or me saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and getting us both killed.” Albus nodded reluctantly and Severus slipped out of the hospital bed.

He almost overbalanced, used to shifting more weight than Potter had and expecting his legs to be much longer as well. He tottered over to his body, trying to get the hang of the slender limbs and gangly boy’s body that was so different from his own.

He picked up his wand from the bedside table and gave it a wave. There was no answering feeling of power and he cursed under his breath. With a scowl on his face, he snatched up Potter’s wand and felt the tingle run up his arm. Albus looked interested in the proceedings but had the decency not to laugh.

“Just bloody perfect.” Now he had to also learn the particular peculiarities of a strange wand to boot. He grumbled and turned back to his body. Up close it was even more jarring. His face was pale and his hair needed washing, he had stubble on his chin and he loooldeolder than Severus remembered being. Better get on with it, he decided. “Legilimens!” he commanded, the wand describing an infinity sign.

He was hit with the usual rush of images and emotions; he carefully shunted them away from his own mind, tucking them into a mental file labeled “Potter, Harry”. He would pull them out later to examine at his leisure but the last impression, the whirling sensation of exchange followed by a hovering sensation and darkness, intrigued him.

He looked at Albus and knew he had caught it in Severus’ mind as he sorted things out.

“So he is in there, but unaware of anything.” Albus replied to the unspoken words.

“Perhaps it is for the best; I cannot imagine him teaching Potions or comforting first year Slytherins.” The sarcastic tones were unsuited to Potter’s voice who did sulky better than snarky. Albus hid a small smile at the thought of Harry Potter, arms crossed, using his newly imposing height to intimidate the students.

“Yes, I can see how it might be a problem.” Albus admitted and Severus allowed himself a tiny smile at the thought of Potter having to fill his shoes. A thought hit him and he pulled back the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing and stared at the bare forearm with a longing expression.

“At least he won’t be summoned while in this condition either. He still isn’t good enough at Occlumency to get through a meeting with Voldemort.” Of course, that would mean that as long as he was stuck in this body, there would be no one spying on Voldemort’s inner circle either. “Bloody hell.”

“Indeed.” Albus replied. The two men stared at each other for a long moment; this situation just couldn’t get any worse.

“Harry? Are you all right?” Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley ran into the room chorusing their concern and Severus found himself being crushed in a hug. His first instinct was to push them away and then assign them detention for over-familiarity, but he snapped his mouth shut just in time. He tentatively hugged them back, remembering his role.

“I’m fine, uh ... Ron, Hermione.” He replied changing ‘Mr. Weasley’ to ‘Ron’ in mid-sentence. Mr. Weasley didn’t seem to notice his hesitation but Miss Granger, stepped back and eyed him.

“Are you sure, Harry?” Her ability to derive a correct conclusion from very few facts was well known to him, so he dragged open the file cabinet containing Harry’s memories and drew upon them.

“I’m fine ‘Mione, really.” He despised the nickname but it seemed to put her mind at ease because she nodded and hugged him again.

She smelled good -- like old English roses, soft, sweet and subtle. The teenaged body he wore reacted to the nearness of a female of the correct species and he drew himself out of her embrace quickly, not wishing to embarrass himself. Damn teenaged hormones, he grumbled internally; he had thought himself rid of them years ago and was not pleased by their resurgence.

“Great, because we play this afternoon!” Ron enthused. “We can’t beat Ravenclaw without our seeker!” Snape stared at him in horror. Seeker? Oh gods, it could get worse.