Playing the Game

Chapter Four

Author: Evening Ivory

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. All J. K. Rowling's. Sadface.

Rating: T (might go up later)

Summery: Harry Tobias Snape. Lord Syon. A life that was ended was given anew by Death. Now the Dark Lord Harry is the Boy-Who-Lived and he will have his revenge. Eventual HP/LV, Dark!AU!Harry.

Author's note: Thank you to Starlit Chaos for pointing out that the last chapter somehow ended up completely bold. It's been fixed now. Next chapter now, finally getting a glimpse of Harry's original world. It'll be a bit of a bouncing back and forth but bear with it. Enjoy and please rate and review! :D

~LV-HP~

Harry hated. He hated everything. He hated the quiet, the polite clinking of silverware, the way his mother and father were speaking, the way they seemed not to notice his turmoil. His hand shook slightly as he stared at his plate, trying to contain his anger and frustration.

Never before had his problems with his parents been this bad. His relationship with them was...odd. As he got older he started to notice the strange ways they treated him sometimes. His mother would stop and stare at him, as if searching for something. His father would regard him coldly when he acted foolish with his friends. He didn't know why, or understand why it seemed that sometimes they were regarding him as a stranger.

But now he knew.

Finally his glass shattered and he looked up, a bit startled that his magic had acted out. His parents were staring at him. Staring. They'd known the whole time that he was burning inside. His clenched hand drew blood.

"Harrison?" his mother asked oh so softly. As soft as the flower she was named for, but in her eyes was the sharp gleam.

His father's black eyes pierced him. Waiting. Staring.

Harry didn't know how to phrase it, what exactly to say. What could one say when he'd found out what he had? The memories played out over and over, making him shake.

"Harrison." His father called him now, his eyes darker when Harry didn't respond. That pushed Harry over the edge of his anger. He looked into his mother's eyes.

"Who is my real father?" he spat in anger.

Lily visibly paled and dropped her fork. Behind his rage, Harry vaguely noticed that she almost looked...afraid...

His 'father' noticed and looked at him coldly. "Harrison."

"It's Harry."

"Harrison. Watch your tongue. I will not hear such foolish questions."

"It's not a foolish question!" Harry pushed himself out of his chair, scraping it on the floor. "I know you're not my father."

"How?" Lily whispered. Her beautiful face looked so heartbroken as she looked at her one and only child.

"Potions," he spat. "It needed part of the father and the son. I made it and it didn't work. I made the potion right. I tested it, over and over and over." He shook in anger, remembering. It was his project for the end of term before his break. The potion had played on the strength of the bond of the father and son to temporarily improve something the drinker had learned or inherited from the father. He remembered making it alone in an abandoned classroom. Stirring clockwise, adding the bits of hair and lacewing, waiting for the potion to turn blue. Grey. Again. Grey. A third time. Grey. He'd looked it up, asked his professor, his heart sinking as he tried to explain it. There was only one answer. "All these years YOU LIED TO ME!"

His father—no, the stranger pretending to be—stood. He hissed at Harry, "You will control your temper, boy."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Harrison...Harry please...please let me explain," his mother pleaded, standing now. There were tears in her eyes and though it tore at his heart, Harry would not be moved. He glared at them both and left, running to his room. His parents did not follow. Why would they? They didn't care to tell him about that, why would they care to stop him?

He packed everything he'd need for a few days in his trunk, making sure the door to his bedroom was locked just in case.

Before he changed his mind, Harry summoned his broomstick and flew out the bedroom window. As he flew away his mind raced. Where could he go? He felt betrayed and lost, unable to trust his family. He briefly thought of going to Malfoy Manor and crossed it out. His father would look for him there first. He and Draco were too close. And besides...Draco wouldn't be able to understand his hurt...

No, there was one place he could go. A place his mother and father had forbid him from. He smirked a bit as he thought of the perfect response.

Harry barked a laugh and turned in the direction of Neville Longbottom's house.

~LV-HP~

He paced back and forth in front of the large door waiting for it to open. He hadn't been waiting long, no, but his adrenaline was nearly gone as was his resolve. Harry bit his lip, cursing his stupidity. Maybe he should just go home? With a sigh, he went to grab his broomstick. Just as he was about to leave the door opened.

A rather dull looking boy stood there. While their appearances were different something about the way they looked connected them. Perhaps it was simply because they were both 5th years or purebloods. The boy blinked at Harry sleepily. Harry noticed he was in his pajamas and wondered how late it must be.

"Harry?" Neville said. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?" Neville was a bit nervous. He and Harry weren't very close and their friendship was slightly awkward. But Harry had no choice.

"Neville, can you help me please? I...I had to get away from home. I just-" Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it. "I didn't know where else to go."

Neville's face twisted in concern. "Merlin, Harry what happened?"

Harry let out a shaky breath. "I don't know what to say..."

The boy stepped out of the way of the door and motioned Harry in. In a daze, Harry walked in, looking at the ground. In the back of his mind he noted that the Prince Manor was far more elegant than Neville's modest home but it didn't really matter now. Neville directed him to a couch in front of a fire and sat down with him.

It was silent for a few moments, Neville letting Harry compose himself. Harry's mind was in turmoil and although he would never allow anyone to see him cry, his eyes stung.

"I don't want to go home," he whispered.

Neville looked confused. "Are you alright?"

"No...I...I found something out about my family I shouldn't have..." Harry was unsure whether or not to trust Neville with the details.

Not knowing what else to do, Neville awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. "It'll be alright though, won't it?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I just...I can't go home for a while. I can't go anywhere though. My father knows all the Dark families...they'd tell him in an instant..."

Neville went quiet, seeming to think about something. "Harry...if you want..you could stay here for the rest of the Easter holidays...then come back to Hogwarts with Gram and me."

Harry blinked up at him, not quite registering what he'd said. "Wh..what? You'd...actually invite me to stay? Even though I'm Dark?"

"W-well...I know we don't talk much but...you're my friend. And I know you can always talk to Dumbledore! He'll help anyone!" Neville seemed to smile a bit. He was trying to cheer Harry up.

"Dumbledore..." Harry mumbled. Maybe it was a good idea. The old man had never really seemed to dislike Harry. Talking to him might have been a good idea.

"Don't worry Harry! Everything will be fine!" Neville smiled at him and Harry allowed the smallest smile to flicker across his face.

~LV-HP~

Finally Harry was back at Hogwarts. His final exams were around the corner and the schooling allowed him a distraction from his home situation. He sat at the Gryffindor table a bit awkwardly, used to the stares and whispers everyone gave to the weird Slytherin. He tried to join in on the conversation around him but it felt forced. As did his smile when the stupid redhead made some sort of comment with his mouth full. The bushy haired girl rolled her eyes and returned to her books. Neville laughed at his friend and leaned over to clasp hands with the younger redhead.

Harry did his best to fit in with the Golden Trio—a name the Slytherin's used to mock Neville, Ron, and Hermione. They didn't trust him, no. He was still Slytherin and Dark but Harry would try. They liked him, right? Neville did, even if he was so absorbed in his girlfriend Ginny. He faked another laugh and tried to ignore the eyes from the blond across the room. It was okay. He didn't need Draco anyways. Right?

Suddenly an owl swooped overhead and dropped a letter in front of him. Harry blinked and picked it up.

"Who's that from, Harry?" Neville asked his friend.

Harry looked at it. "I think it's from the Headmaster..."

Ron made some mocking comment about Harry being in trouble which caused him and Hermione to break out into another argument. Harry stared at the letter. Tea after dinner it said with the name of a candy beneath it.

"You alright, Harry?" Neville looked at him worriedly.

"I'm fine...he wants to have tea after dinner."

"Oh. It can't be too serious can it?"

"I don't know," Harry stood, excusing himself.

"Good luck," he smiled and turned back to his girlfriend.

~LV-HP~

Harry nervously stood in front of the large door and raised his hand to knock. Before he could, an older voice called out to him.

"Come in Harrison."

Putting on his best polite expression Harry opened the door to the Headmaster's office. He walked in and bowed politely to the seated man.

"Oh there's no need for that, my boy. Please sit."

The dark haired teen hid his nervousness by gracefully sitting in the chair. "Good evening Headmaster. You wanted to see me?"

"I did. Have some tea," Dumbledore waved a cup over to him which Harry took, not wanting to be rude. He sipped at it absently as he waited for Dumbledore to speak. "I wanted to ask about how you're doing."

"How I'm doing, sir?" Harry blinked. This was odd.

"Yes. I've noticed you seem to be spending a lot of time around Mr. Longbottom and his friends lately. Even at meals you sit at the Gryffindor table instead of the Slytherin one."

"I...suppose so, yes." Harry looked into his tea and took another sip.

"May I ask as to what prompted your change in behavior?"

Harry was about to reply that he'd rather not talk about it but blinked when his words turned out different.

"I don't want to be around them."

"Oh? And why is that, Harrison?"

"Because they'll tell my parents."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Your parents?"

Harry started to panic a bit. "I..I'd rather not talk about it sir."

His eyes twinkled over his glasses as he looked at Harry. "Come now, my boy, you can trust me. I have only your best interests at heart and I am concerned for your happiness and safety."

Something in those eyes made Harry relax. I can trust the headmaster...he thought. His eyes glazed over slightly as he spoke to Dumbledore. Slowly he started to reveal everything that happened, the potion he'd tried to brew, the confrontation with his parents, and his escape to the Longbottom Manor. Harry tried to shake the slight haze in his mind but all he could think of was trusting the Headmaster.

"I see...I'm very sorry to hear that Harry," Dumbledore replied. His voice was polite but something in it made Harry frown slightly. "Hearing about such things could surely traumatize a young mind such as yours. I confess that while here at Hogwarts your mother Lily had many admirers...but knowing this there's always a chance to find the truth."

He looked at Harry deep in his eyes and said gravely, "Are you sure you would even want to know the truth?"

Harry's fingers tightened around the cup. "Yes. I have to know. I have to."

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment as if contemplating. "Very well my boy. I'll help you."

Harry felt hope, not noticing the effects of veritaserum until it was too late.

~LV-HP~

Harry awoke to a faint repetitive noise, yawning a bit as he sat up in the small bed. He'd been dreaming about his first life again. Dreaming about the times before, when he'd been such a foolish, gullible boy. He smiled a bit sadly and stood, walking over to the source of the noise. It was tapping on the window. Harry opened the window and an owl flew to the nightstand, holding out a letter on it's leg.

With a brow raised, Harry walked over to it and removed the letter. To Mr. Potter was scrawled elegantly on the envelope. He grinned as he recognized the seal of the Malfoy family. Harry excitedly opened it and revealed two letters. One was the original, bearing the signature of one Caelum Malfoy, and the other was written in the same hand.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Your missive came as a surprise and I am not accustomed to receiving threats and invitations to secret meetings. While I agree to your terms I expect you agree to the same in regards to me. One can never be too sure how powerful the allies of the Boy-Who-Lived must be. I await your owl with your promise of safety and your location where we shall soon meet.

Regards,

Caelum Malfoy

Harry's brows were raised as a pleasant smile crossed his face. How interesting. Caelum could have addressed it vaguely as Harry did originally but he addressed it to Harry. And there seemed to be a slight lack of subtlety. His smile turned into a grin as he summoned a piece of parchment and scribbled his reply, making sure to enchant his oath to Caelum's well-being. He quickly tied it to the owl and sent it off.