Everything Happens Everything Changes

Everything Happens, Everything Changes Chapter One Keep You Eyes and Ears Open Severus Snape was sitting on the radiator, his back facing the hotel room. It was already almost two in the morning and pretty soon he’d have to start packing again to make sure they stayed on schedule. Through the vinyl curtains he could see the headlights from cars fly past. “Right by the interstate, that's why we’re so cheap”, the man at the front had informed them. Snape didn’t mind the noise the cars made though. The different whooshes and horns reminded him of curses flying past his head. Or the wind up in the Astronomy tower, when he was younger. At yeast it felt like he was younger then. Headlights cut through the blinds sending stripes of light across the room and over him. Snape let the ash fall off his cigarette as he turned to check and make sure everything is still the same. Two beds were in the room but his was still made. The room is small, but not bad. Snape had seen worse, much worse. The bed sheets didn’t match, but at least they smelled clean. At least that is what the boy had told him. The TV is on mute, only picking up static at this hour. The glow from the screen falls on the young man’s face. The face that seemed almost dead in his sleep. His body was sunken into the bed, limbs appearing in entropy, face contorted into a small grimace. Beer cans lay scattered around the boy’s bed, along with clothes and books. Draco had taken up reading over the past year. Snape thought he slept nothing like his father. He slept completely unaware of his surroundings. It made Snape uncomfortable staring at Draco too long. The boy was just so open, vulnerable to whatever might happen. In the past Draco seemed so closed off to everyone, especially before the incident a year ago. Severus had quickly realized though that Draco’s actions and emotions had been just a mask, like the ones so many people wore these days. Snape turned back to the window, scratching his dark mark unconsciously. It had begun to bleed again. It no longer burned though, just a dull throb. He had to change the bandages around it everyday. In every hotel room he had been in he imagined his old bandages in the small metal trash cans. Like trails of blood that lead to him. Because blood did lead to them, at least in his mind. Dumbledore. It was funny to Severus how just that one word, that name, had now turned into a complete thought to him. He tried not to hate the man for this, he tried to understand that night. Dumbledore. One year, almost to the day. It was hard to believe so much time had already passed. Snape never believed they would make it this long. Even though he had never said it out loud, Draco knew Snape thought that they should be dead by now. Snape had imagined it so many times in his head. Harry Potter barging in, pointing his wand, and then nothing. Snape couldn’t add anymore because he knew there wouldn’t be anything else. Snape wouldn’t have a chance to blink before he was dead. “Life feels only momentary”, Draco’s words sank into him now. Snape stood up stretching, a loud crack traveling down his back. Sighing, he rubbed his cigarette out. He walked over to his untouched bed and picked up his bag. He began putting the few things he had taken out back in, including the cigarette pack and his toothbrush. He turned to his companion on this trip and stared at him as he slept once more. Nothing had changed, its was still the same. He brushed the now black hair out of Draco’s eyes. They had been pretending to be father and son, even though their relationship was much more complicated than that.

Snape examined the boy before waking him up. Well, the boy had changed. Draco had turned into someone else. A scar now ran down Draco's neck starting at his left earlobe. His father had done that one. They had almost been captured once, near the beginning. It had been almost ten months since and Snape had worried then that the boy would have never been able to hear out his left ear again. Lucius had been going for across the neck but Draco had awoken just in time. Just in time to see his father standing over him with a knife. Just in time to see just how much hatred was in his eyes. Partial hearing loss was preferable to death. Snape ran his finger along the scar stopping at Draco’s collar bone. Everyone had their scars; there was no stopping it any longer. Draco stired in his sleep before opening his eyes. They focused on Snape’s face, studying the man sleepily for a minute. “Good morning.”, Draco murmured, smiling as Snape cupped his cheek and ran his thumb over his eyebrow. Draco nuzzled into the touch before sitting up and taking a look around the room, frowning at the untouched bed. “You didn’t sleep again? I told you, you should sleep…”, Draco started before he noticed the look on Snape’s face. The look that said he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep because of what happened a year ago. That night and many other things. His childhood; his old Death Eater mask; and everything that happened in between. Draco stood up facing Snape, almost as tall as him now. He ran his hands over Snape’s shoulders before embracing him and burying his head into his old teacher’s chest. A silent apology. “You know we have to get moving Draco.”, Snape said as he pulled himself from Draco’s arms, ignoring the small frown the boy gave him. Snape pointed to Draco’s unpacked bags before continuing to clean up. Draco sleepily went along. Before long they were already on the road again. Draco stared into other cars’ headlights as they drove by. He wanted to see every face, every moment of the lives of the Muggles driving. It had taken a while for Draco to get use to driving the Muggle contraptions. Especially in the States, where everybody drove on the right side of the road. Snape was always yelling at him as Draco drove, something about keeping his eyes on the road, which is a saying Draco didn’t like. Mostly because Snape knew so many more Muggle sayings and their meanings than him, and that bothered Draco. To hear his Potions Master, his former head of house, sound so familiar with their second life was unnerving. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ - five days later… One year. One year to the day. Since the day his life had changed once again. That was the last day Harry had seen Dumbledore. He had defeated Voldermort since then, but he couldn’t help but wish his old headmaster had been there to witness it. Eventually he had stopped being called the “Boy Who Lived”. His name had been mentioned in many ways. In hushed voices, in skeptical tones, in prayers, and in rejoicing. He was no the longer the boy all of the other children were told about when young, like he was a myth or worse, fairytale. It was now in the written word, available to all who had enough money to buy the literature that mentioned him. Most of the titles that the newspapers and books had given him he hated. He hated them because they were nowhere near to what he really was. He was torn. A body worn thin, hair prematurely graying, a torso covered with scars from his so called victories. Harry sat at the bottom of the staircase near his front door watching the letters pile up untouched. Wearing the same worn t-shirt and a pair of jeans for the past two days, Harry decided maybe he should do his laundry. Standing up from the stairs, his knees popped as they straightened. Making his way into the kitchen Harry turned on the oven, heating up the kettle. Scratching his stomach as he glanced outside Harry noticed that the leaves were back on the trees outside and the beginnings of summer are sprouting up every where. At least the seasons kept coming and the world was still spinning. Harry had begun to worry event that had started to change. Everything else had after all. One year. A year spent training, going to funerals, and fighting. The fighting was over at least. It was really quite easy to win after sacrificing everything he had ever had. At least that is what it had come to in Harry's memory. Things weren't very clear and focused anymore, if they ever had been. This he had done on purpose with a bit of help from Hermione. He didn’t want to remember what he had seen. No one could blame him either. The main thing that stuck out in his mind about the war was that during each battle he had been looking. He was searching for certain familiar faces. Waiting to see the two men he had been looking for since that night a year ago. He always expected to see them standing across from him pointing their wands at his heart and laughing together. Harry hadn't seen them though. There had barely been a sign of them anywhere. A rumor that it that it had been Snape who murdered Lucius Malfoy was the only news that had surfaced. They had found Lucius split open, starting from his right foot up to his chin. It was a crooked line that broke his body almost in two. No one did much investigation into Lucius’ murder; every one just assumed that it was deserved. One more Death Eater gone. Harry walked over to the pile of letters, grabbing the large bundle that he had been sitting for the past two days staring at. It seemed at least 20 letters thick, wrapped in twine, sent from the Ministry of Magic. The letters were what had started this trip into the past. Since the war had ended Harry hadn’t given much thought to the magical world. But now it all came pouring back out to him. Those damned letters. The first letter was the only one that the Minister himself had written. The rest were forwarded to him, already read once and checked over for tricks or worse. They were from Snape. Snape’s scrawl addressed each and every one of them to Harry. The address unknown, just written in black bold ink, "Potter". Harry carried the letters to the kitchen, grabbing the fresh tea and proceeded to pour himself a drink. Looking up out the window one last time Harry sat himself at the table, opening the first of the pile. Harry sighed, afraid to read what they said.