Harry Potter and the Unexpected Powers

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you might recognise from the Harry Potter books. They all belong to JK Rowling!!!

A/N: This takes place in Harry's fifth year and takes up right after GoF! Enjoy! As of 21st June, 2003 this story is considered AU. ^_^

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Chapter 1

The Dream

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Voldemort sat on his throne overlooking the rows of kneeling Deatheaters in front of him. His snake-like nostrils flared, catching the scent of uncertainty and fear. He smirked in a self-satisfied way. None of them knew why they were here... not even that fool Malfoy, who never seemed to leave his side these days, or Wormtail. Voldemort sneered at the thought of the rat that was currently cowering at his feet. Completely useless, a weak wizard, yet he was the one who had helped him come back to life..... and he was good as a spy, mainly because nobody (except for his former friends) knew that he was an illegal Animagus.

Voldemort shifted in his seat as the smell of fear intensified. Most of the Deatheaters were shaking by now, terrified of what was to come..... all but one. And that was the one because of whom they were all here. Voldemort smiled again, rather nastily. He supposed he had kept them waiting for long enough now.

He stood up and slowly began to walk along the first line of Deatheaters.

"My dear..... friends," he began. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was icy cold and seemed to ring throughout the throne room of the dark fortress. He noticed some of the Deatheaters shivering and smirked again.

"Lately, it has come to my attention, that one of you..... may not be as faithful towards me as he pretends....." Voldemort trailed off as whispers broke out among the Deatheaters.

"Quiet!" he bellowed and the hall went deathly silent again.

One could have heard a pin dropping, and the tension had risen to an almost unbearable level. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed the guilty Deatheater shifting nervously..... he seemed to sense that Voldemort knew it was him.

"Yesss..." Voldemort continued, "one of you has betrayed me. The Deatheater I am talking about has been giving information to that muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore..... and has already done so fourteen years ago. How come I haven't noticed before....? It was so obvious at times..... not that it matters, now..... When this Deatheater returned to my service little over two weeks ago, I was suspicious..... yet I allowed him back into the Inner Circle. I presumed that maybe I had been wrong about him?"

While he was talking, Voldemort continued along the row of Deatheaters, looking each in the eyes. All of them were quivering in fear, terrified that their master might think it was them..... Voldemort smirked again. Fools.

"So, I had my faithful servant Wormtail spy on the man..... Wormtail is especially talented as a spy, are you not, Wormtail?"

The rat-like man raised his head to look at his master.

"Y-y-yes m-m-my l-lord..." he stammered.

Voldemort scowled. "Stop stuttering when you talk to me!" Wormtail visibly flinched. "Y-yes m-my l-l-lord."

Growling in frustration, Voldemort drew out his wand and pointed it at the man.

"You will do as I say! Crucio!"

Immediately, Wormtail dropped to the floor screaming, writhing in unbearable pain. Voldemort left him under the curse for almost thirty seconds, then took it off.

"Next time, make sure to follow my orders, Wormtail!"

Wormtail was on the floor, gasping for breath.

"Y-yes my lord..." he managed to get out.

Voldemort smirked again and went on.

"As I said, I had Wormtail spy on the man..... and he brought me interesting news, very interesting indeed..... because this man was working as a double agent, passing information about our plans to Dumbledore and giving me wrong information about the Order of the Phoenix in turn....."

Voldemort had now reached the end of the line and remained standing in front of the very last Deatheater. Nothing could be seen of the man's face under the mask except for his glittering beetle-black eyes that held no emotion whatsoever.

"Severus Snape." Voldemort hissed, "Remove your mask."

Whispers broke out again, whispers of both disbelief and relief. Disbelief because Snape had been in the Dark Lord's service for many years now and had been thought to be one of Voldemort's most faithful, and relief that Voldemort didn't think it was them.

Snape, however, kept his calm appearance, though on the inside he was terrified. Voldemort knew, he had found out..... he was definitely doomed now. If only there was a way to contact Dumbledore..... but in his heart, Severus knew it was hopeless. He was going to die tonight, he knew it. Slowly, very slowly, he took off his Deatheater mask.

"Severus Snape," Voldemort said again in his high, cold voice that always sent shivers down Severus's spine, "Do you admit that you are a spy for the other side? Do you admit that you have been passing valuable information to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix for a long time, giving me wrong information in turn? Do you admit that you betrayed me, betrayed all of us here, a long time ago?"

Severus looked calmly back into those demoniacal red eyes. If he was going to die anyway, he was going to do it properly.

~*~

Harry Potter, who had been watching all of this from the shadows, waited with bated breath for his potions master's answer. Snape sneered, looking straight into Voldemort's eyes. Then he spat into his master's face and said:

"Yes, Voldemort. I betrayed you a long time ago. And I'm glad I did! I curse the day I ever decided to join with the likes of you and your Deatheaters! Go to hell, Riddle!"

There was a deathly silence in the throne hall. The temperature suddenly seemed to drop ten degrees. Nobody dared to move, everyone (including Harry) was looking at Voldemort for his reaction.

Voldemort wiped the spit away calmly and raised his wand.

"Why, I am disappointed in you, Severus..... I had high hopes for you..... but if pain is what you want, I can certainly give it to you..... Crucio!"

The curse hit Severus squarely in the chest. He dropped to his knees, biting his lip and trying to prevent the howl of agony that was trying to wrench itself out of his mouth.

Harry watched in horror. He had to do something, he had to save Snape..... But his scar was on fire, making it hard to concentrate..... And besides, Harry knew there was really nothing he could do..... in all his dreams he always had to watch Voldemort or the Deatheaters torturing or killing people, and no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to, he could never interfere, never help the people in his dreams..... And suddenly, it hit Harry that he was angry, more so than he had ever been before. He hated the feeling of always having to watch without being able to do something, he hated the feeling of being so helpless..... he hated the feeling that his very own potions master was right now writhing on the floor in front of Voldemort, and he, Harry, had to watch yet again.....

At that moment, something inside Harry snapped. With a scream of fury, he launched out of the shadows and threw himself right in front of Voldemort's curse. It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever felt before, even worse than the Cruciatus Curses he had been hit with before..... but Harry paid no attention to the pain, focused completely on getting his (most-hated) teacher out of there.

With some difficulty, Harry managed to turn around so that he was facing Professor Snape. The Professor stared wide-eyed at his most-hated student.

"Potter? What the hell are you doing here? Are you out of your min- you're glowing!"

Harry looked down on himself. Snape was right. He was glowing a bright gold, mingled with pure white and a little bit of blue. But somehow, that didn't seem important right now, and the pain from the Cruciatus Curse was slowly driving him to the brink of insanity. Without really knowing what he was doing, Harry raised his hand and pointed it at his Professor.

"Mitto Severus Snape ad Hogwarts!" he shouted.

A beam of pure white light shot out of his hand and hit Severus, who promptly vanished. Behind him, Harry heard Voldemort's scream of rage, then the pain became too much for him and the Boy-who-lived knew no more.

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Harry opened his eyes with a groan. His scar, no his head, hell, his whole body hurt like he had just been hit with the Cruciatus Curse..... and then the details of his dream came rushing back to Harry. Snape! Was he alright? He had to write to Dumbledore, immediately!

But then it occurred to Harry that that wouldn't be necessary. If Snape was alright, he would tell Dumbledore himself. And if the dream never happened, well, then at least Harry wouldn't make a fool of himself.

Groping around for his glasses, Harry realized for the first time that it was still dark in his room at the Dursleys. Everything slid into focus and Harry propped himself up on to his elbows and looked at the display of Dudley's old alarm clock. It was 2.30. Harry slumped back on to the bed with a groan. Taking off his glasses again, Harry turned so that he was looking out of the window and up at the moon (it had been full moon two days ago,) and knew it would be yet another sleepless night.

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The Entrance doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry flew open with a bang. Severus Snape stormed into the castle, his black Deatheater robes billowing after him making him look very much like an overgrown vampire bat. This impression was only heightened by the dark scowl and the look of- concern? etched into his face.

The man was walking stiffly, like something was causing him quite some pain, and he was clutching his left forearm.

Coming to a halt in front of a stone gargoyle he spat a password ("Milky Way!") and stepped on to the moving staircase behind it.

Finally he arrived at a great oak door and knocked. After a few seconds of impatient waiting Snape heard someone calling

"Come in!" and he stepped into the headmaster's office.

Even though it was very late (a glance at the clock in the corner of the room showed Severus that it was 2.35) there were still many people in Dumbledore's office. In fact, there was the whole Order of the Phoenix Council, which, at the moment, consisted of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Vektor, Snape himself and Dumbledore, and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Hagrid, Mad-Eye-Moody, Arthur Weasley and his two oldest sons, Bill and Charlie.

"Severus!" Dumbledore called shocked. He stood up quickly and helped his youngest staff member into a chair. "You look awful! What happened?"

Severus sighed wearily and rubbed his eyes.

"If only I knew", he said, frowning slightly.

"Why, Severus? What do you mean by that?" his colleague Minerva McGonagall asked primly.

Severus sighed again and began telling them about the Deatheater meeting.

"We didn't know why he was calling tonight. When we arrived he made us stand in lines and just sat on his throne for a few minutes. Then he told us that he had found out that one us was a spy for you....."

The people in the room gasped.

"But how? How could he have found out?" Sirius asked in shock.

Snape glared at him.

"I was getting to that, Black. Anyway, he said the person he was talking about had only re-entered his ranks two weeks ago. Apparently he had sent Wormtail (at this Sirius growled) to spy on the man..... Then Voldemort stopped in front of me and told me to take off my mask. He knew that it was me. I was sure that I was going to die tonight."

The room was silent, the Order was listening with bated breath. Their faces showed concern for their friend and/or colleague or curiosity as to why he was still alive (Moody, Black, Bill and Charlie). Severus went on.

"He made me admit to his face that I was the spy. Then he placed me under the Cruciatus Curse.....and then, something very strange happened. I don't know how long I was under that curse, it felt like an eternity to me. But suddenly, a figure launched out of the shadows and threw itself in front of the curse, shielding me from it. It was a boy, judging by the size, a teenager. And the strangest thing was, he was glowing with gold, white and blue light."

Silence. Nobody could think of anything to say. Finally Remus Lupin broke the silence by asking:

"Severus..... did you see who it was?"

Snape nodded, slowly.

"Yes, he turned around though he was still under the curse and undoubtedly in pain. It..... It was Potter....." Sirius stood up so quickly that his chair crashed to the floor.

"WHAT? HARRY? MY GODSON?" he shouted in anger and fear, all but showering Snape with spittle.

Severus leaned back and eyed him with annoyance.

"Black, all of us here are perfectly capable of hearing. You don't have to shout. And yes, it was your godson. And no, I don't know why he was there, or what happened to him, the only thing I know is that he was there and that he was glowing and that he somehow got me out of there."

"He did what?" Moody asked incredulously.

"As I said, he somehow got me out of there. He pointed his hand at me and said something that sounded like 'Mitto Severus Snape ad Hogwarts', though I'm not entirely sure." "

Mitto Severus Snape ad Hogwarts?" Filius Flitwick squeaked confusedly. "It is Latin, but I have never heard of that. Though I'm not an expert on transportation charms I'm sure there hasn't been a charm like that in the past 763 years. Maybe it's an ancient charm?"

Dumbledore looked pensive.

"That is something to look into, Filius. I think what we really need to do now, though, is call this meeting to an end (as it is quite late) and contact Harry. Next meeting will be in three days, I will make sure that Harry has arrived here by then. Good night."

One by one, the Order members stood and left the room.

Severus was the last to leave. As he trudged down to his quarters in the dungeons, he couldn't help worrying about Potter. He hadn't seen the boy's face for a long time, but he had almost been sure that there had been bruises. And the look in his eyes, though it could have come from being under the Cruciatus Curse, had been strangely dull. And Severus could have sworn that Potter hadn't been that thin when he had left Hogwarts little over a week ago.

As he looked up at the moon that was shining through the dungeon window, he inwardly prayed that Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, was alright. Little did he know that somewhere, hundreds of miles away, a small fourteen-year- old boy with messy black hair and slightly dulled emerald green eyes was doing the same for him.

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A/N: Well, what do you think? Good? Bad? Please review and let me know! This is my first story, so please be gentle. Constructive criticism is welcome!

See ya!

Felinity