The Rise of a Snape

Just like Lily

Harry, for once, had a good-nights-sleep, not disturbed by nightmarish visions that Voldemort had been taunting him with about the Department of Mysteries. He slept peacefully and had not kicked off the covers like he usually did.

He had woken up relatively okay, stomach growling in hunger and eyes less tired- he sighed as daylight streamed into the barred window- here was a new day- another long terrible day.

He lay there for a moment, treasuring the blessed silence: Dudley was most likely sleeping in like he always did, while Vernon would be up soon and Petunia was an early bird.

Yawning, he stood up from the mattress with a creak, stretching his back and legs as he did so. Why did he feel so tall all of the sudden? It was about time for a growth spurt.

He blew a rather long strand of hair out of his face, feeling rather odd. His hair usually provided him with much grief- but today as he ran his hand through his soft locks it wasn't nearly as messy as it usually was.

"Okay," he muttered as an undertone, feeling a bit apprehensive. Shrugging, he turned to face to mirror- surely nothing could have changed too drastically from yesterday to today.

He swore. Am I hallucinating?

In the mirror was a tall, thin framed youth- but it seemed that his face had re-constructed itself- he was tall, taller than he had been, with high cheekbones and delicate complexion mixed with powerful green eyes that seemed to stand out more on this face due to his thicker, longer lashes. His hair was not messy anymore- a piece if his straight black hair fell in his eye- a strand that curled slightly on the auburn tips. Everything that characterized him as the son of James Potter seemed to have faded away...

Dudley's old clothes hung off of him, barely clinging his thin limbs. He seemed more delicate and even more thin than usual- delicate by nature and thin from lack of food. In his surprise, Harry realized that he didn't even put his glasses on yet- he could see clearly now!

Feeling cold and a bit numb and disoriented, he continued to stare in disbelief at the unfamiliar boy in the mirror.

What the hell?

He felt his face- yep, real. Harry took a deep shuddering breath. Deep breaths, deep breaths, Harry...

"This is unreal," Harry muttered, a spark of angry appearing on his face on his reflection, "UNREAL!"

He kicked the loose floor board in his frustration. There was nothing magically related anywhere in his room- all of that was located in the Cupboard under the Stairs, locked away by Uncle Vernon on the first day of summer. Hedwig had managed to narrowly escape his wrath- Harry hoped she had made a safe journey to the Weasleys.

"Crap!"

"Boy, get down here!" his Uncle called up the stairs. He sounded angry. Harry paid no mind blank in a world of shock.

"Oh my god!" Harry laughed hysterically, completely ignoring him.

"I'm coming up," snapped the muffled (yet still shrill) voice of his Aunt Petunia.

Harry kicked the mirror soundly, cracking it in the middle and making his foot explode with pain.

"Dammit, why is it me?" he said desperately to the poor broken mirror.

He could here the twist of the doorknob- before the thin awkward woman let herself in. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted into a silent scream, still with her dreadful bedhead and nightgown.

"Do you know what's happening to me, Aunt Petunia?" He shouted desperately at the woman who was staring at him in recognition.

"Lily," she muttered in a small wondering hopeful voice, "Lily?"

Feeling slightly confused that she had call him Lily, he shook his head hesitantly, not knowing what to do. The bitterness seemed to have disappeared from her face before it came back in a whirlwind of grief and emotion as he did.

"Harry," corrected Harry gently, looking bemused.

"You look so- so- much like- like- Lily," she whispered brokenly to herself, before harsh angry marred her wondrous expression, "What have you done?"

"Aunt Petunia- I didn't do anyth-"

"Of course you didn't- you freaks always just DO THAT- THAT DAMN MAGIC!" her voice had risen to a shout, pale hands clenched. Harry felt hurt as her watched her turn into the hateful guardian he had always known. Who was she to judge magic so harshly? Why did she have to be so- prickly?

"Petunia dear, what is it?" the muffled voice of Uncle Vernon swept up the steps.

She stood there, eyes blazing, the unwelcome memories of her freak sister and her freak friends that had taken her away...

Just like Lily- I look just like Lily...

"I swear I didn't DO anything!" Harry said, perturbed at the haunted look in her face.

Uncle Vernon's unwelcome purple face appeared at the the door- piggy eyes narrowed and walrus mustache trembling-

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO, BOY?" he hissed voice rising into a shout.

Harry didn't bother to answer. It was a hopeless battle, as it always was. Where was Dudley, anyway?

"Dudley's at Peirs," Uncle Vernon spat, spit flying out of his mouth. Harry flinched as he neared. Aunt Petunia had gone back downstairs.

"YOU RUIN EVERYTHING," Vernon said in a strangled roar as he struck Harry across the face. He let in a sharp breath at Vernon's words and actions.

"It- is- ALWAYS- your- fault." Vernon hissed in a way that struck Harry in its own way. Vernon left, floor thumping ominously with his heavy stride, slamming the door behind him.

The pride he had felt for looking like his mother disappears. Sirius...

Harry, holding his throbbing face, heard the click of a lock, and then another one, and another, each bringing a feeling of hopelessness to the scene.

His Uncle, no matter how dim-witted, knew exactly where to hit him.