Fallen Angel

Chapter One: Fall to Pieces

CRASH.

Harry was thrown across the room as Professor Snape argued with him, and Harry felt his ears itching at the notion of the potions master referring to his father as a swine. Harry just couldn't even attempt to understand the professor's mannerisms—any of them. Almost since he had walked into that classroom for the first time, at the age of eleven, the older man had seemed to have it out for him. Nothing Harry could do seemed to change the man's attitude, and although he tried his best, Malfoy would still throw random things not in the potions recipes into his cauldron, which gave Harry quite the reputation in class.

Harry fell into the seat on the other side of the classroom; he'd asked, begged, to be allowed to rest, due to the fact that he and the older man had been at the lesson for hours. It seemed useless, he mused to himself, as he rubbed his knees, which had faced the impact of falling into the chair head-on; there would be bruises later, he was sure of it. Thankfully, he could easily claim that he had gotten them on the Quidditch pitch, and no one would be any the wiser. As he lifted his head slowly then, after making an effort to turn around, he saw the potions master proceeding to lift his wand again, and, panicking, said the first word that came out of his mouth, while all the while struggling to his feet.

"Protego!" he shouted, knowing that the Shield Charm was the only thing to happen now. And then, much to his shock, the Legilimens Spell reversed, and Harry was seeing directly into the mind of his most-loathed professor.

He saw a young boy sitting in what appeared to be a cold, stone bedroom, which looked even worse than his makeshift bedroom at the Dursleys—hell, even Harry's mattress was thicker than that! The memory swirled, and there was another, with the same young man, half-hidden in the shadows that the torches gave off in the corridors of Hogwarts, and the poor man had toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his school shoe. Snickers could be heard, and as the man turned, Harry knew full well that it was Severus Snape himself. The memory swirled once again, and he saw Snape sitting beneath a tree on the grounds of the school, nose in a book, reading by the light the sun provided. There was a shout, causing the man to look up.

"Snivellus! Expelliarmus!" came a voice, and Harry's heard immediately thundered in his breast at the sight of his own father advancing on Snape. There were three other young men behind him—Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew—with Sirius and Pettigrew laughing, and Remus looking uncomfortable with the entirety of the situation, a Gryffindor prefect badge shining on his school robes. "Who wants to see me take Snivellus's trousers off?!" James Potter called, and Harry shook his head in shock as Sirius and Pettigrew cheered at the idea.

"Dad..." Harry said automatically, but knew that he was powerless to stop his father's actions, as they were rooted in the past.

Snape, by this time, had risen to his feet, and was searching the tall grass around them for where his wand had landed. However, he was unable to do much of anything, and stared with shocked onyx eyes at what happened next. Harry felt something akin to extreme guilt settle within him as he watched what was happening.

"Levicorpus!" came James's shout, and he systematically lifted Snape into the air, with Sirius and Pettigrew continuing to cheer their friends' actions. James snickered childishly as his spell worked effortlessly, and flipped Snape around mid-air, before charming his trousers off.

"Stop!" Harry screamed, unknowing what else to do. He ran up towards his father, intent upon shoving him away from the potions master, but merely went through the body, and toppled onto the grassy ground, as the shouts of encouragement from Sirius and Pettigrew slammed repeatedly into his ears, as well as his father's laughter, and, as he raised his eyes upwards, saw that Remus did nothing, as Snape begged for them to stop.