The Abuse in a Violently Different Dimension (new rendition)

Chapter One was published on June 7th, 2005. Chapter Forty-One was published on August 21st, 2015. At that time the fanfic boasted 83,744 words. On December 20th, 2018, I decided to re-read and rewrite the story and post it again, but now on both as AO3.

The Abuse in a Violently Different Dimension

1. Hit the Floor

I know I'll never trust a single thing you say
You knew your lies would divide us but you lied anyway
And all the lies have got you floating up above us all
But what goes up has got to fall

Most people would say that the colour of hate is red, some might say it's black. But to those who glimpsed at Harry Potter's eyes as he stormed through the hallways of Hogwarts that afternoon, that particular colour of green will forever be linked with the consuming emotion of pure, undiluted hate.

Hate not unlike the Avada Kedavra curse.

The Gryffindor didn't seem to take notice of anything around him as he strode through the hallways of Hogwarts. His focus only on one goal, which appeared to be the Headmaster's Office on the seventh floor.

The students littering the many hallways of the castle jumped out of his way without needing much prompting. Some of them would later say that they simply didn't want to mess with the Boy-Who-Lived when he seemed about ready to kill You Know Who, while others would later claim they had felt a force of sorts, a wall of heat perhaps, pushing them.

There was however a Potions Professor who refused to let himself be intimidated by a bad tempered student. He especially held a grudge against this particular student. A grudge that had festered even more over the last year when he had wasted so much time trying to teach the boy Occlumency.

To him the so called Boy-Who-Lived was nothing but a pesky brat who needed to be put in his place. After all, if was because of the boys imprudence and fake heroism that the absolute disaster at the Ministry had happened only months ago. All because the boy refused to listen to the adults in his life.

In Severus Snape his opinion, Dumbledore was way too lenient with the boy, allowing ridiculous antics he wouldn't from say a Slytherin student. However, he did understand the need for a figurehead in the war against Voldemort. A war that now had been acknowledged by the Wizarding World, since even the papers did seem to see the severity of the situation, and one that would certainly cause many deaths.

That didn't take away that the boy was but a child and at that, one with so much belief of his own grandeur that it blinded him to his own inadequacy. These were shortcomings which Severus did notice and made sure to point out at any given time. This was such a time.

He would apprehend the boy and deduct enough House Points that the Gryffindors would be dissatisfied enough with their housemate that Severus wouldn't even have to dirty his own hands. With that in mind he made to intercept the boy.

'Potter!' Severus snapped, ready to deliver a dressing down that would be certain to stop the boy in his tracks, but instead found himself pushed aside by what felt like a hot invisible force. It slammed him against the wall. Gasping for breath, with the air abruptly pushed out of his lungs and his spine aching, he was too late with raising his wand to retaliate.

The boy already stormed around a corner and thus the professors' belated body-bind bounced against the wall and fizzled away as it met stone instead of organic material. Severus took a step after the boy, then had to reach out and catch himself on the wall again as his legs appeared to be shaking. He glanced contemptuous down at the traitors.

He was angry with himself. Why hadn't Severus reacted fast enough? What kind of non verbal spell had the boy used to just swat him away as if he were nothing but a flobberworm?

The boy's physical appearance also worried him. Though he'd only caught a glimpse at the boy, he'd still noticed the shabby appearance. Almost as if he had brawled with someone outside in the mud.

There had been some scratches on his face too, not to mention some small red smears which could've been blood. He sincerely hoped that he wouldn't have Draco Malfoy complaining to him again about being attacked out of nowhere by the Boy-Who-Lived.

At days like these he agonized over the fact why he had been forced to become a teacher.

Now slightly concerned-though uncertain if it was because the boy could be hurt himself or have hurt others instead-he wobbled away from the wall and then strengthened his resolve. He would follow after the boy and stop him, then use Occlumency to figure out what the hell had happened to him.

And after that, deduct at least fifty House Points from Gryffindor.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived or more recently 'The Chosen One' by the newspapers, had thought that his fifth year had been bad. Yet here he was, just a few weeks into his sixth year at Hogwarts and everything was already already messed up.

His eyes burned with unshed tears and his skin felt like he was burning from within. He was just so bloody angry. Albus Dumbledore had promised to be honest with him. Had promised not to keep these secrets any more. And after having lost Sirius to the Veil only a few months previously, Dumbledore had been one of the last adults he felt he could trust.

What a dunce he'd been. He should've known better.

For once the staircases didn't change at the last random minute to lead him astray. Propelled by the wild anger burning in his veins, Harry soon found himself facing the statue of a gargoyle tasked with guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

Was it possible that the last password was still in use? He used it only a few days ago when he'd had his first private lesson with Dumbledore. They had watched Bob Ogden's recollection of Voldemort's parents in a pensieve.

These meetings were supposedly to figure out how to defeat Voldemort by taking a look at his past. Something which now, after his harrowing afternoon, made him wonder why Dumbledore had kept up the pretence.

'Acid pops.' he told the gargoyle. It didn't leap aside, meaning that Dumbledore already had changed it and Harry cursed under his breath. He didn't have the patience left to go through the proper channels to get the right password and pointed his wand at the statue.

With a blasting curse ready on his lips, he quickly whirled around and aimed it at the man storming towards him instead of the statue. It took him a moment to realize it was Snape coming towards him, his nerves were still fizzled from the afternoon.

'Can you just bugger off?' he asked, as he dodged a counter curse and use the statue as cover. Not feeling like dealing with the man, pulled his invisibility cloak from an inner pocket of his robe and disappeared underneath it.

The Potions Professor threw up a shielding charm before rounding the statue of the gargoyle. It was not a remarkably large statue, so he was surprised to find his adversary missing. He whirled around to see if the boy had relocated to get a better advantage over him, but Harry Potter was nowhere to be found.

The man glanced suspicious at the gargoyle that still stared stonily into the distance, unaffected nor interested in the goings-on around it.

The boy couldn't possibly have gone past it. If the boy had, then the gargoyle would still be moving. Which meant that the boy had fled. So much for that so called Gryffindor courage. His behaviour should be reported to Dumbledore though. Maybe that would finally shake some sense in the old man to stop his doting.

The Professor took a moment to glance warily around the hallway, then turned to face the gargoyle. He told it the password. It made the gargoyle leap aside after which the walls behind it split in two, revealing the previously hidden spiral staircase going upwards.

Then, as the man was about to walk through the opening and onto the staircase, seemingly out of nowhere he was hit from behind with a body-bind. His rigid body swayed then fell forwards where his head met the floor, barely missing a collision with the lowest step of the stairway.

Behind the man's paralysed body, the air shimmered as Harry whipped off his invisibility cloak. He didn't waste any time on the immobile form of his professor and simply stepped over him, muttering for form a: 'Thanks for the password… sir'

The spiral stone staircase ascended like an escalator and just as slow. Impatiently, Harry strode up till he found himself in front of the highly polished oak door with brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. He didn't bother using it.

Half expecting the door to notice his malice and thus refuse to let him enter, it was with a bit of surprise that the door opened wide and with little to no difficulty. It opened up to a large, and brightly lit circular office.

Sunlight glinted of the many objects spread around. Harry's attention immediately flew to the sword of Gryffindor which was in a glass case. Beside it sat the Sorting Hat. Somehow the sight of the weapon never failed to make phantom pain shoot through his right arm.

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, though had no idea if it was because of the memory or caused by the feeling of numerous eyes that followed his every move. No doubt all the portraits lining the walls were watching his every move. He wondered briefly if they already had alerted Dumbledore to his presence.

It felt odd to be in the office without Dumbledore present.

Slowly the fury started to leave him. Or perhaps it was simply banked like the coals of a fire, waiting to be unleashed again. Harry went to the enormous desk and flopped into the chair. Not giving a damn any more, he leaned back into the chair and swung his legs up.

His dress shoes left dirt and grass on the various papers-mostly knitting patterns he noticed-left haphazardly on it and Harry watched as a handsome scarlet quill in a silver ink pot shook from the wild move and wobbled, clearly heading for an imminent crash onto the ground.

Harry reached out to it, not even sure if he wanted to safe the damn thing from crashing or give it the last push. Instead the quill caught flame and burned up. Harry stared for a long moment at it.

'Okay, should've expected that,' he told himself.

He glanced absent minded around, ignoring the muttering from the irate Headmasters of yore in their old paintings. Spread about the office were a number of spindly-legged tables. All of them supporting silver instruments of which one could only guess about their function. Some of the instruments even whirred and emitted little puffs of smoke.

Harry didn't get much time to study the office, since soon a loud crackling noise announced Dumbledore's appearance. Almost instinctively Harry was up on his feet again with his wand raised and the large chair in between him and the powerful wizard.

The chair was abandoned as makeshift shield to possible surprise attacks the moment he saw that Dumbledore was not holding his own wand. Dumbledore's right hand still looked as blackened and shrivelled as when he had collected Harry that summer. Harry briefly wondered if the man so pointedly showed his hand to show he wasn't holding a wand, or to get sympathy for the life-depleting injury.

The old man's light blue eyes roved over Harry's tense form, probably noticing the dirt on his shoes. He then glanced at his desk where the same dirt could be found on his knitting patterns and the dismay was obvious in his frown. Then his eyes fell on the ink-pot which still held the burned remains of what was once his favourite quill.

Harry stared silently and challenging at the old man, but no admonishment was said.

'I see,' said Dumbledore in a hollow voice.

'You're not even going to ask?'

Harry still had his wand drawn but held it now deceptively innocuous by his side. Dumbledore didn't reply. Instead he walked to the office chair as Harry took another step to the side. Right now he didn't want to be too close to the old man. He didn't trust him.

He watched Dumbledore sink into his chair. Almost like all the strength had left his body. The man placed his black, shrivelled hand prominently on top of the desk and now Harry knew that he was doing it on purpose. He would not pity him. He refused to.

'Now what did you say again? "I am going to tell you everything, Harry",' he quoted as mocking as he could, feeling the anger starting to rise again at the knowledge that the man had been lying to him while promising to be truthful.

'And what about "It is time for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry", but you left out some important information, didn't you? Lying by omission, they call it. Why didn't you tell me the truth?'

'The truth would've hurt you so much more that I-'

Harry didn't want to listen to the man's excuses and continued. '"It was your mother's love that saved you, Harry".'

Dumbledore seemed to search for words. 'Harry, please listen to me-'

'No! You listen to me!' Harry now shouted and slammed with a hand hard on the table. The ink pot finally lost its battle with gravity and fell to the ground. There was not even an unbreakable charm on it, because it fell to pieces, letting the ink spread like a dark puddle of black blood.

He leaned toward Dumbledore, but found no satisfaction in seeing how the man leaned away from him. The anger was back and burning almost painfully underneath his skin.

'And here I thought you would finally tell me everything during our private lessons, but you had to leave something important out, didn't you! You needed to keep an ace up your bloody sleeve!'

He slammed once more with his hand on the table and several objects in the office to burst into pieces. Dumbledore's eyes flicked around the room, inspecting the damage done. He looked worried yet hurt at the same time.

'Harry, my boy. Please, give me a chance to explain-'

'Why would I? You lied to me, Dumbledore! Why should I give you the chance to lie some more?'

Objects started to shake in their places on the shelves. A few fell over and crashed loudly on the floor. The things that previously emitted grey smoke now were puffing out a dark, sooty smoke like tiny volcanoes getting ready to spew hot lava.

'I don't want your bloody words! I don't want your fake advice! All I know if that you hid something this important from me, and for what? To have a malleable pawn? To keep me under your thumb? Were you afraid I would go dark and break away from your hold?'

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore. The man just as swiftly held a wand in his left hand and at the same time, the oak door burst open to allow entry to professor Snape.

The man swept into the room like a giant bat and the moment he laid eyes on both Harry as Dumbledore, his wand swished and a stunner flew through the air, only to hit the dark, smoke spewing object that Harry had summoned to intercept it.

The Gryffindor didn't stand still to give Dumbledore the opportunity to gang up on him with the recent arrival and quickly found cover behind a tall stack of books, ready to defend himself. It didn't seem like Dumbledore would allow the other man to attack a student though.

'Severus! Stand down!' Dumbledore said. Perhaps he thought he could still salvage the situation by lying to Harry.

'Albus! What is going on here!' the professor asked. His beady black eyes didn't leave Harry's spot, but he had ceased attacking. Harry aimed his wand in-between the two professors, unsure about who was the greater threat to him in this situation.

Dumbledore's interference was to no avail. Harry didn't want to listen to his words.

'Typically Snivellus! Sirius was right. Sticking your nose in things that are not your business!'

This infuriated the professor enough for the man to not heed Dumbledore's words and he threw an Incarcerous at Harry. It forced the Gryffindor to duck behind the stack of books and he quickly froze them so they would not topple over, making them serve as a better wall between him and the irate man.

Then the curses were flying.

A stray curse from Harry hit an oil lamp on a shelf which melted onto another object. It made both topple over onto a old Astronomy model of aligning planets. The model now started to fall too, clung desperately with an appendage onto the edge of the shelf.

Swinging wildly it struck a pensieve on the shelf under it-perhaps it was the one that Dumbledore had used to show Harry old memories of Tom Riddle-and they clattered onto the ground, taking various other objects with them on their way down.

The noise was terrible. The dinging of iron objects that collided with each other, and the high piercing screams of several of them, made glass bottles burst. The object spewing smoke toppled over, making the dark smoke thicken and start to fill up the room.

Snape and Harry were both obvious to the chaotic debris forming all around them as they threw spell after spell at each other. Power crackled in the air between them and then both duellers muttered a spell at the same time.

Dumbledore watched frozen to the spot how Harry Potter's spell hit the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor dead-on, while Snape's counter spell was avoided with an agile dive to the floor.

The Gryffindor had no time to gloat about his victory. The stray hex collided with the previously mentioned objects behind Harry, making them explode outward and thousands of pieces of debris flew through the room in a fountain of shards.

For a long moment the noise was all they could hear, then it was suddenly gone, leaving a deafening silence behind.

The Headmaster glanced shocked around at what had remained of his office. The smoke that had been filling the room had disappeared along with the sound. Vanished as if it had never been there.

Nothing moved any more. Dumbledore could see the still and bloodied form of Severus Snape near a wall, partly buried underneath debris. A short glance down showed he himself was covered with small cuts, made by minuscule fragments of the exploded objects.

There was no pain, but it would probably come when the shock came in. He took a hesitant step towards Severus Snape, desiring to check the man's condition as is eyes roved over the rest of the room. He couldn't see Harry Potter anywhere.

The debris had become such small fragments that it was unable to hide the form of the Gryffindor underneath it, which meant only one thing.

Harry Potter had vanished.

And this time the Gryffindor was not hiding underneath his invisibility cloak.

[Hit the Floor - Linkin Park]

I've been working on this rewrite during my morning and evening commute to and from work. Unfortunately, I can't type if I have to stand in the bus or metro, so the times I'm actually able to are sparse.

I also dragged my way through the +1000 reviews (which took up a lot of time too) that had been left to the old version. While at the time it hurt to receive negative critique, I can now look at them and see their point and actually use that to improve my craft.

So to those of you who have read the old version and bothered to leave feedback: thank you so much! You have no idea how much it meant (and still means) to me!

And I've taken a closer look at the 5th and 6th Harry Potter book, made timelines, used The Harry Potter Lexicon intensively for important info and thus I now feel like I can fix a lot of plot holes and inconsistencies.

If you see spelling- and/or grammar mistakes or other things that bother you, please do let me know so I can fix it! English is still my second language and I do often use it wrong, no matter how many times I check.

And for people who wish to read more Universe Jumping Harry Potter fanfics (like I do): the snake in the daffodils by SpicyReyes on AO3 has caught my eye with a deliciously confused Harry, misunderstandings galore and a very daring but interesting side-relationship...