Problematic

Title: Problematic

Rating: T, for now.

Author: AMV

Warnings: Slash. Alternate Universe. I think that’s it….like really subtlety implied child abuse, but that’s really it….

Main Pairing: Harry/Severus

Sub-Pairings: Draco/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Neville/Luna, Dean/Seamus.

Disclaimer: Only the plot belongs to me.

Summary:
Harry Potter never went to Hogwarts. Instead, he went to a school for the gifted and became a scientist at 23. Now, he's 26 and Dumbledore has finally found him. The problem? Harry doesn't believe in magic. HPSS Slash PostHogwarts

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Chapter One
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Dr. Harry James Potter

Due to certain circumstances, we have not been able to contact you before this time. You were to attend a Boarding School call Hogwarts when you were eleven years old but your relatives refused, stating you were already attending another school. But currently we are in need of your expertise and when we saw your Nobel Prize in the Newspaper we hoped you wouldn’t be opposed to helping us.

We invite you to come to Hogwarts School on June 17th to attend a conference in which all will be explained. A representative will be waiting at King Cross Train Station between Platform 9 and 10, between the time of 12:00 p.m. and 1:00 p.m. Consider our offer, please be assured that you will be satisfied with the compensation.

Sincerely,

Headmaster of Hogwarts School,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter reread the paper for the umpteenth time, his vibrant green eyes scanning the strange, thick paper. It was hand written, unusual format for that of a business letter, but nonetheless, it was professional. His black hair fell over his eyes, eyes that he was told were too piercing to stare straight into. Many told him that when he looked at them, they felt like he was seeing into their soul. Most people didn’t like their souls getting looked into, since they had so much to hide.

Needless to say, he didn’t have many friends.

He was leaning on the brick beam between platforms nine and ten, his slim arms crossed and his silver rimmed, rectangular glasses planted firmly on the bridge of his nose. The smell of sweat and spoiled food was in the air, as seemed to be ritual in crowded places such as plane and train stations. Harry had only ever been to a building used for travel once before, earlier that very same year to collect his Nobel Prize for Chemistry in Sweden. He’d hated it then as well, crowded places didn’t bode well with him.

The man was slim and of average height, although many thought him to be taller then he was. He had jet black locks of hair that fell splendidly over his head and high cheekbones that he consistently said made him look much to feminine. Not that other people noticed- they always told him he was incredibly handsome, but they called him ‘pretty’ behind his back, he knew it.

Harry reread the letter once more. It sounded almost legitimate, but it was also missing so much of what other offers had put in their letters to him. Most had come in Emails, and the rest were at least typed. But this…this one intrigued him- or, maybe even scared him a bit. Harry Potter loved a good scare, and he would never back down from a challenge.

Ashley, a former lover, used to tell him that the defiance could be seen in his eyes.

No matter what the topic, if it was about him, it always came down to the eyes. He’d been told once by his aunt Petunia (in a repulsed voice) that he had his mothers eyes. He had always wondered if that were true, seeing as most of what the Dursley’s said was complete mendacity. But Harry tossed thoughts of those idiots from his mind. Actually, now that he thought about it, his uncle had once said he looked a lot like his father…

Harry shook his head, folding up the letter and shoving it into the pocket of his black slacks. He wore an emerald, long sleeved, button up shirt and a too long black tie with a silver tie clip. His black dress shoes rubbed against each other slightly as he crossed his ankles and looked at his platinum Rolex. He sighed. It was only five until noon. He’d been there for nearly an hour- he always got there early; he hated being late.

He watched the people go by, and he envied them. They’d grown up normal, not like him; the prodigal kid from a bad family. He’d graduated high school at fourteen and gotten his Doctorate Degree in only seven years for Chemistry. Not long after, he’d come up with a brilliant discovery and two years later someone had told him he was being considered for the Nobel Prize. He was considerably surprised, especially when he’d actually had to stand and except it five months later.

He had few friends, as stated previously, but the one good friend he did have- a Photographer by the name of Jamie Henson- was a very good friend indeed. They’d known each other since college, and Jamie was four years older then Harry was, and married with a kid on the way. He’d been the only person Harry thanked for his success besides his teachers at his acceptance speech.

The sounds around him muffled together, meshing like play dough until Harry could scarcely decipher the screeching of stopping wheels from someone calling his name.

“I suppose you are Harry Potter,” came a silky baritone voice from beside him.

It took a moment for Harry to respond. He looked over at the man who had spoken his name, taking every detail in. The masculine nose, the prominent, strong jaw and black hair that seemed to be much more greasy then it actually was. Harry had the same problem some of the time, being around chemicals all day long. He wore all black; button up, long sleeve shirt, trousers and shoes as well and his thin lips were twisted with something akin to disgust.

What caught Harry was the eyes. With not even a second passed, the man locked his gaze on him and Harry could soon feel the pressure of those eyes bearing down on him; even from a distance they never lost their weight, like twin snakes, coiling around his throat and constricting his air passages. He thought, strangely, that this was what other people must have felt when he looked at them with his eyes.

“I am,” Harry agreed, uncrossing both his arms and ankles and standing up straight, picking up his leather suitcase from it’s place on the ground. “And you are the ‘representative’, I presume?”

“Indeed,” The man replied in the same voice as before, only now he was frowning as though Harry had not met some expectation he had set. “I am Professor Severus Snape. I teach at Hogwarts.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, genuinely curious. He couldn’t see the man before him as a teacher- he didn’t look like he would enjoy children. “What subject?”

“Come this way,” Snape said, turning away and heading straight toward another brick barrier. Harry jogged to catch up with him, Mr. Snape’s long-legged strides hard to keep up with. Harry continually paled as the man moved quicker then ever toward the beam, without any intention of slowing down.

“What the hell are you doing?” Harry asked as they neared the brick, hoping the man’s bad attitude would not double once he hit the wall face first. “I’m stopping before I hit that thing. I’m not going follow this frivolous example of-Ah!”

Severus Snape, a teacher at Hogwarts, had grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the wall. Harry winced, waiting for the painful cuff on the head. It never came. Instead, he kept moving forward and the Professor released his wrist from his painful hold. Harry opened his eyes to see that they were no longer in Kings Cross; instead they were in a quite deserted platform in which Harry had to look up at the sign to identify.
Platform 9 ¾.
Oh, that was better, now that he knew where he was. Harry froze and did a double take, looking back at the sign as though he hoped to see something different the second time around. It was still there, the yellow numbered painted wearily on the worn wooden board, as though it had been there for centuries. Now, Harry didn’t know much about train stations, but he was pretty damn sure that there were no ¾’s anywhere.

“What on earth just happened?” Harry asked, once again having to trot up to the faster male. “Was that barrier a hologram?”

“No,” Snape said opening the door to the train, jerking it to the side. “Now get in, Albus does not wish for me to discuss anything you may see on the way to the castle. All will be elucidated at the conference.”

Harry sighed, climbing up the stairs and walking into the closest compartment. When Snape joined him, he put the suitcase on his lap self-consciously. “So how long is this going to take?”

“A few hours,” Snape replied shortly.

Harry nodded, holding in his chagrin and pulling out a book. It was another book on eukaryotic transcription, and this person had a completely different outlook on the subject. It was completely absurd but Harry was reading it anyway. The author was an idiot, really. Each of the genes contain a combination of sites to which specific protein factors bind, and the imbecile was trying to prove something entirely different with the most bogus hypothesis in the world…god forbid the thought get promoted to a theory…

Harry threw the book down, muttering, “Idiocy!” under his breath. Too bad, since only fifteen minutes had passed since they had boarded the train. Harry looked to the Professor who sat across from him. “You don’t happen to be able to hold a conversation do you? I am in desperate need of a discussion that doesn’t include bypassing all common sense.”

Snape smirked, turning his glare from out the window, over to Harry. “I’m afraid, Dr. Potter, that I don’t know much about the topic of your Nobel Prize. It was in Chemistry, was it not?”

“Yes,” Harry said, relieved to have something to talk about, “It was my study on the molecular basis of eukaryotic transcription.”

“Meaning RNA and the like?” Severus asked.

“Yes!” Harry smiled.

The rest of the train ride was spent with Harry talking adamantly about his theories and how much he hated being in crowded places and just how you could make certain chemicals explode. Snape nodded and responded when necessary, and much of the train ride passed like this, the green scenery outside virtually unnoticed. But in the course of explaining the Table of Elements, Harry brushed his bangs aside, giving Snape a clear glance at his forehead- and even more importantly, his scar.

Snape clammed up, and scowled- as though only now realizing just whom he’d been having a civil conversation for the last two hours. Harry stopped mid-sentence when he saw the look on the other man’s face, his black eyes swimming with something akin to annoyance. No, never mind, it was definitely annoyance.

“Is everything all right?” Harry asked, surprised by the sudden unfriendliness. Had he said something wrong?

“If you would cease your insistent babbling, then it would be,” Severus snarled.

“I do not babble, sir,” Harry told him, “Everything I say has importance- or at least most think so. And apparently this Albus Dumbledore thinks so too, or he would not have asked for me to come today.”

Snape snorted.

“You disagree?” Harry prompted, deciding to stop trying to be kind to this man, who apparently, didn’t want to hear it anymore.

“It does not matter what I think,” Snape said stiffly, “the Headmaster had made up his mind on the matter. He thinks he needs you, where there are many more people who are more qualified and knowledgeable of some things that could do the same tasks he wants you to do. It’s utter nonsense.”

“I see,” Harry said, taken aback by the sudden change in attitude. Hadn’t this man just been intently interested in what he had to say? “And so you doubt my abilities?”

“No,” Snape said in his clipped tones, “I do not doubt your abilities. I doubt the need for them.”

“Ah,” Harry replied, leaning back, “But you refuse to tell me what it is Mr. Dumbledore thinks I am needed for until we reach the premises of Hogwarts.”

“Indeed,” Snape nodded, and decided to looked out the window for the next half hour, leaving Harry to his horrible book, which he only pretended to read. He didn’t want a migraine, thank you very much.

Harry nearly screamed a cry of relief as the train came to a stop- thanking whatever god was in charge of trains.

Harry stood elegantly and picked up his suitcase, letting Snape lead the way since he had no idea were they were going. The man was happy to take the lead, although Harry wasn’t satisfied with staying behind him as the older man had wanted. Harry walked right beside him; silently saying ‘I’m as good as you are.’

They climbed into a carriage that Harry noticed wasn’t being pulled by anything. What kind of mechanics was this? And why not just take a car?

The ride didn’t take very long- probably fifteen minutes at the least. Snape and Harry climbed out of the cart and Harry stood, stunned at the sight before him. It was the most amazing piece of architecture he’d ever seen. It was a castle- so that’s what Snape had meant. He’d thought it was some tradition to call the school building a castle. But the stone walls that went up for hundreds of feet, towers, balconies and cone-like roofs told an entirely different story.

The like from the sun bounced off the lake, causing the building to almost glow iridescent in the daylight. It looked almost…magical.

Snape had stopped for a moment, letting him take in the surroundings but now he was off again, heading up the steps to the entrance to the castle. Harry jogged to catch up with him and then slowed to a fast walk. They entered the castle and Harry found the inside of it even more incredible. Each portrait seemed to be a sort of television that was censored to wave whenever someone passed by and some even said hello to him. Above him where candles that seemed to be floating in the air, but Harry was sure there had to be some sort of fish wire attached to them to make them hang in suck a manor from the ceiling. What a peculiar school.

They reached a large, remarkable set of double door and Snape opened them and Harry looked at the ceiling –but there wasn’t one. How…odd. Harry narrowed his eyes as he noticed that there were more candles that seemed to be hovering –oh, that was logical! The ceiling was merely yet another screen and outside there was a camera that taped whatever the sky looked like so that it would appear like there wasn’t a ceiling. How rich was this school? Harry shook his head and set his eyes on the people in the room.

They had just finished dinner, it seemed and where all looking at Harry curiously. They were also wearing strange cloaks and there was a man that looked like he was four or five times the size of a usual man and another that looked five times as small. And then, next to a plump woman was a white, wispy sort of hologram of a man that looked bored.

There was a bookish looking woman, and man with a roguish smile and next to him was a serene, sad looking man. There was a man and woman with vibrant red hair and brown eyes that had had to be related. The female redhead was sitting next to an aristocratic looking man with platinum blond hair. In the center was a man that was old and wrinkled, with a beard that glinted silver in the light of the candles and sparkling blue eyes. Did they have no electricity? How barbaric.

“Good evening,” Harry said politely.

“Ah, Doctor Potter, we’ve awaited your arrival,” the old man stood pleasantly, “I am the Headmaster of this wonderful school, Albus Dumbledore.”

“Yes, you’re the one who wrote me the letter,” Harry nodded, “The style and format…intrigued me to say the least.”

“Oh, yes,” Dumbledore nodded, “I imagine it would. We do things differently then what you’re used to, I believe.”

“So I see,” Harry looked around the room again, “Why would you go through all this trouble to put so many television screens all over the place, and hang so many candles from the ceiling? Why not use electricity?”

Someone snorted, but Dumbledore just smiled and spread his arms wide, “Well, Doctor Potter, this school is…quite different from the schools you’ve ever seen.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Dumbledore beamed.

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So, let’s see. Please tell me what you think. This is on a trial basis. I know nothing about Chemistry, and only picked it as Harry’s major because it relates so closely to potions and gives Harry and Severus something in common. So if I’ve said anything wrong about it, please inform me.

More will be explained in the next chapter, and this story will span over the three month summer and the purpose it mainly to get stubborn, logical Harry to believe in magic and to (of course) get him and Sev together.

I really hope you like it, and please, please review!

Thanks!

AMV