Since I've already updated my other story at ff . net(which is somehow more fun to write atm) I've decided to do something with this one as well, so here you go (I know the chapter is short - don't stone me)... hope there's not much of mistakes there, if you happen upon some, just pretend they're not there, 'kay? ^^"

thanks to all who reviewed *sends kisses*

concerning one particular review (that Snape's behaviour is almost non credible, not informing Dumbledore and stuff...) first of all: I've warned about AU/OOCness right at the very beginning... and then, Snape's not stupid; this information could get them killed (Snape - as it is - can't use magic outside Hogwarts, and Harry might have gained brains but is still a teenager and his magic atm is one he's not used to, making him weaker in result...) and Severus, as every Slytherin, doesn't trust completely anyone (yes, not even 'the-epitome-of-all-things-good-and-light-Dumbledore')... I hope that explains why he wants to keep their 'switching' secret...

~aq

R&R

Looking around Severus' office he found that everything was in perfect logical order, even the books in his library were sorted alphabetically, and by subject they covered, though the only subjects the man was interested in were Potions, Dark Art and Defense against them, and there also was a small section of one shelf dedicated to Mind Magic - well, Severus IS a Master Occlumens and Legillimens so no real surprise here...

There also was a fireplace in the room, a real wonder though was that Harry had never noticed it before, and he'd spent here a great deal of time serving detentions... His breath hitching, he abruptly stopped his explorations at what he's seen, and took few steps to said fireplace, his gaze focused on a mantle-piece over it, or better on a single picture frame standing there innocently, holding a photograph... And when he came close enough to recognize the two people in the picture, his eyes widened.

Lily P-Evans, he corrected himself, and Severus when they were attending Hogwarts.

Severus probably said something funny as his mother laughed merrily, and even the boy allowed his regular inexpressive mask slide down and smiled contently at her, his eyes glittering happily.

Harry felt a smile of his own curling his lips, and despite the dire situation he was in, he let it be... If nothing else, then for the joy of the moment captured in the magical picture. He'd never seen Severus like this: content, happy, full of dreams, full of...

"Love," Harry said aloud, and he knew he was right: his mother and Severus had been friends... or more?

The way Severus looked and smiled at his mother was how you'd look at someone you love; not just a frivolous and passing crush, but love. Harry knew that look; he'd seen it from the pictures he had of his parents, and he'd seen it often - whenever Remus looks at...

He shivered as though a bucket of ice-cold water was emptied on his head and shoulders.

Sirius.

Suddenly, a sickness took hold of his senses, and images started flowing through his vision at terrifying speed making him dizzy. Harry slowly reached a chair behind Severus' desk, and with the last dangerous sway he ungracefully plopped down onto it. Even while sitting in the chair, the ground still seemed so unstable, and the world around him was spinning restlessly, so Harry closed his eyes to avoid looking at the blurry images even though the feeling itself didn't go away anyway.

Yes, Sirius - his godfather, the first person to care about him, the first father-like figure of his life... Sirius had always been ready to throw his life away for Harry... and he has; killed by his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange just a few months ago. And all of that was Harry's fault, and he certainly knew it.

Had he listened to Dumbledore's advice and learned Occlumency; had he never received that blasted vision; had he recognized the vision was fake; had he let Order take care of things; had he trusted Order better; had he...

Another series of those useless 'ifs', Harry sighed dejectedly as he knew those thoughts could never help anything, nor make him feel any better... any less guilty. No, Sirius was dead and nothing could change the fact. He could remember every last detail of the battle at the Department of Mysteries, every detail of his godfather's death... everything, down to the last smudge on a button of Sirius' coat. How could he not when the scene of his godfather dying was haunting him night after night. True, it certainly was the moment his mind had closed by itself, and the dim numbness was all that was left of his emotions and it never let go during the long days gone by... But at night, when a darkness flooded the earth and its skies, the numbness of his defense mechanism disappeared and he found himself engulfed by an immense guilt and pain, and he has long since found out it will probably never go away, as well as it's been long since he said: "Never ever more."

No. Never again will he fall for others' tactics; never again will he listen to others' whispers; never again will he let somebody die because of him; never again will he let his close ones suffer because of him; never ever again will he let himself feel this damned helplessness...

Scenes flashing wildly behind his closed eyes, moment after moment another nightmare unfolded - not Voldemort, no, nightmares sent by the Dark Lord were pretty rare occurrence lately and in all honesty, they stopped bothering him some time ago... well, almost... since the damned Lord sometimes striked just the place where it hurt the most... No, there were no fake visions, nor his parents dying, not even Cedric's death - the Dark Lord's favourite... This night it was only Sirius - not that it was a surprise, after all the night was when his guilt struck him, awake or asleep - it didn't really matter.

He woke abruptly and running his hand through long strands of black hair and sweat-drenched face he cast a quick Tempus, only to find out it was barely few minutes after midnight.

"Oh joy," he sighed and got to his feet. It wasn't the first time he woke up in the dead of the night, and certainly it wasn't the last time either. And as the past months had mercilessly taught him, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore this night.
"Might as well do something useful." And with that he left Severus' office.

Leaning against a wall, he inclined his head to the back, and for a while he stared at a dungeon ceiling, deep in thoughts.

This morning he finally left the infirmary, with many obnoxious warnings from Poppy; heck, that woman should get a break. He left with the brightest thoughts of enjoying upcoming three days in a role of a student; he may not use his transfiguration or other skills any often, but the basics students are taught shouldn't be much of a strain, moreover, Potter was an idiot, so it wouldn't be much strange if he didn't know something. He traipsed light-headedly through the castle corridors to the Gryffindor Tower, optimistic he wouldn't have to teach, and inadvertently stress about, hordes of idiots and empty-headed teenagers.

"Carpe Diem," he barked out at Fat Lady. She stepped out, huffing offended, and uncovered the entrance to the lion den.

He shuddered, just as he'd thought, the atmosphere in the lions' Common Room was homey and cozy to no end, everything possible covered in warmth of their trademark red and gold. Sick. He sighted two narrow staircases at the other side of the room and headed just there. He stopped momentarily, thinking which staircase led to the boys' dormitories, but then the answer presented itself in form of happy girlish chatter from his left. Severus climbed few steps until he reached a door with 5th Year written on it.

Pushing a heavy wooden door open, he stepped inside just to find all of the fifth-years still soundly asleep. What did he expect, really? Still, lions' laziness never ceased to disgust him, and here, in this sight, he had quite sound proof that he had not been wrong. He proceeded to the only empty bed and went through Potter's belongings to find his timetable, and he didn't need to search hardly as the brat's timetable was glued to the side of his nightstand facing the bed.

"History of Magic, Transfiguration, lunch-break, Potions, DADA," he mumled as he read through Potter's today's classes. Starting at 8:30? he frowned and took in Potter's still sleeping roommates once again, are they serious? He shook his head and started looking for prescribed books in the brat's belongings, giving up after few minutes when he noticed no books anywhere, not even in his trunk or nightstand. Where teh hell did the brat put them? After a while he finally decided it wouldn't be any weird if a brainless idiot (which Potter was) forgot his things once; he'll just have to ask said idiot in Potions. Damn, he swore. But then he started laughing - Potter would be teaching Potions! How fun will that get? Despite all his efforts to stop his current maniacal behaviour he simply couldn't stop the laughing fit. Yes, he certainly was looking forward today's classes.

All of sudden, he could hear a rustling on one of Potter's roommates' bed and he turned to look at a lion disturbed from his sleep; that had to be a sight to behold. True to his thoughts, a certain red-head shifted under his cover until his head poked out from under his blanket and he looked around the room, most likely to find the disturbing element. Opening his puffy eyes slightly, he groaned irritatedly, mumbled few swear words, and Severus found, to his utter disgust, two whiteish streams of dried up saliva leading from both corners of his mouth to the sides of his chin.

"Ugh," he couldn't help but to verbalize his disgust, reverting his sight from the scene. One thing he was sure of; he never wanted to repeat the experience and surely would be better off without ever seeing it in the first place.

Weasley finally focused on him, and after a while, most likely to give his brain a time to process the information, he growled once more.

"What the hell are you doin'?" he asked sleepily, looking up to a window to finally find out the sun was up already.
"Preparing for school?" Severus said, not able to fully repress a biting tone in his voice.
"Then do it somewhere else, it's annoying. Git. I was sleeping."

It took all Severus' self-control not to curse the lion on the spot. Merlin, they were even more annoying in private. He was really glad he'd been sorted into Slytherin. There was another rustling in the room; it would seem Weasley's waking up was just a start to a chain-reaction of his roommates. Not sure he'd be able to keep himself from hexing his students, he grabbed Potter's bag which lay on his bed, and hurriedly left the room.

Passing through lions' Common Room, he noticed, that all of the Gryffindors behaved the same way in the morning, there was no other way to explain their behaviour. It only took him few steps to cross the room, and then he finally left heading to the Great Hall for a breakfast. he was really starving, true, Pomfrey fed him some nutrition potions while he was out, but it could never compare to real food.

Upon entering the Great Hall he found Potter already sitting on his regular spot, looking round the hall and sipping water. Severus frowned, it was weird looking at his own body. Much to his surprise, Potter was sitting on the exact same spot he always had, having his usual breakfast, even his expression didn't vary that much from his. It was truly weird. How did Potter know about his habits? Then the brat's eyes found him, and Severus found himself frowning even more. Why was there such concern written all over the brat's face? Weird, weird, definitely weird. He reverted his eyes from the disturbing sight and sat on the Gryffindor table, closest to exit.

A sound of a bell intercepted his thoughts and he was brought back to present, though the offness of this morning never left his mind. Not to mention the classes that followed, during whose he noticed that this morning's lions' behaviour wasn't due to the early hours of the day as it haven't changed a bit even later. A lunch with lions was another thing that got him confused: he'd come to sit at the table in the group of fifth years next to Weasley, only to be stared at. Not to mention their remarks which he simply couldn't understand.

Closing his eyes, he sighed as he heard footsteps of his classmates. Suddenly, he could heard another set of footsteps coming from dungeons, the sound softly reverberating amidst the corridors. He looked to his left, only to witness himself - well, Potter - closing in on the Potions' classroom.