Brighter

snarryislife

Originally, this was written by cotton-candy-willruletheworld, under the title, The Truce of a Lifetime. But, since she is no longer going to be writing fanfiction, she is allowing my to tidy up and finish her stories. So, the idea goes to her, but the work, well, I'm taking that credit

Also, I am re-reading the Harry Potter books in French and Spanish. So, I'm not updating my other stories, but I will be posting c-c-wrtw's stuff.

By the way, since I'm busy reading, this will become a one-shot.

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Before I start the story:

Alex,

"Alex

2010-10-05 . chapter 1

"Disclaimer: I only own my Ocs"

Ugh! I can tell by that sentence that you are yet another pathetic loser who writes Mary-Sues. Anyone who is so enamored of their characters that they feel the need to say they 'own' them (even before the Mary-Sue enters the story, in fact) is more than likely writing a Mary-Sue. Good luck getting any helpful feedback on your story. The only people who read Mary-Sues are complete morons."

I do this with other flamers too. Post it, point at it.

And laugh my ass off.

Though I must say, for someone who despises Mary-Sues, you sure do write like one. Nobody uses the word moron to insult anymore. Filthy muggle.

Severus Snape, spy extraordinaire, had messed up big time.

He had blown his own cover at the trial of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

Now, he was running for his life from the very people who had thought him a fellow loyal supporter. His soul twisted at the thought of the safest place to be.

In the land of Muggles and Wizards, live magical creatures of a large variety, and Harry had met many of the scary ones in his 3 years at Hogwarts, and, as such, didn't get creeped out by odd happenings, not normally, at least. At 13, going on 14, he was glad to say that he was a brave young man, despite the Dursly's abuse. He was not one that frightened easily. A true Gryffindor.

Today, was a completely different story.

He had woke in the morning to complete the usual routine, wake up before the crack of dawn, rush to the bathroom, take a five minute, freezing cold shower, dry off quickly, rush down stairs and pick up the food left in front of the television, throw it away, wait the six minutes before Aunt Petunia came down the stairs, her bruises barley covered on her face and cheeks, she would tell Harry what would be for breakfast, before handing him the salve, and allowing him to clean up his open wounds from the beating the night before, then, when he finished, Aunt Petunia would switch places with Harry, who would begin cooking breakfast.

This morning would have been no different, had it not been for the wounded man, asleep on the couch.

Harry had stood petrified until Aunt Petunia came down stairs, lightly fusing at Harry, with no anger behind her words, when she first saw him standing there. She merely assumed that the harsh beatings the night before were causing the boy difficulty in moving. It was true in fact that Harry had received a harsh beating, just as Petunia had, the night before and was having difficulty moving, but as I have said, the man fitfully sleeping, and blood dripping, on the couch.

He knew exactly who this person was.

Aunt Petunia, from her apparent response, knew him too.

The person was none other the Professor Severus Snape

"My Lord, she told me you were dead!" Aunt Petunia hissed as Snape struggled awake. "She said that you had died protecting Dumbledore!" Snape looked from the pale Petunia, noting the bruises, to the obviously startled and confused 'Potter.'

"Aunt Petunia, you know him?" Harry questioned, completely baffled by the fact that his Aunt knew his Potions Professor.

"We were neighbors as kids." Petunia responded, Snape was busy piecing himself back together with magic.

"You were?" Harry questioned, his brow nit together.

Before a response could be formed, the sound of movement from upstairs brought the trio to a momentary halt.

"Shit." Petunia swore. Harry looked at his Aunt, startled once more. It wasn't every day his Aunt cussed.

Then again, it wasn't every day Professors were on his couch either.

Snape looked ready to die and run at the same time.

"Harry, show Severus the broom closet. He can stay in there until Vernon and Dudley leave. Then quickly get the den picked up, before Vernon gets down here." Petunia whispered loud enough for the man and boy setting in the den to hear her.

Somehow, only God knows how, Petunia managed to get a hearty breakfast that would take an hour to cook, completely done in 15 minutes. In 2 hours, the Dursly men were gone for the day, leaving the three wounded people at number four Private Drive.

"You better be here to take him." Petunia stated, glaring a hole in Severus Snape. Harry was busy 'washing dishes' as Petunia had told him, which, when Vernon and Dudley were gone, it meant soaking his bruised hands while he 'washed' dishes.

"What do you mean, 'take him'?" Snape questioned, eying her bruises suspiciously.

"I told her...I told her to go to Dumbledore. But no, she was as stubborn as you are. It was so obvious with her in my house." Snape looked at the babbling woman with a confounded look.

"I really have no idea what you are trying to say." He stated, knowing full and well that Harry could hear every word they spoke.

"I was told he would be safe with someone of blood with him. So he would be safer with you."

Snape arced and eyebrow. "Woman, I have no idea what your trying to say."

"Oh, quit being so stupid. Lily never loved James, and she sure as hell never had a kid with that buffoon."

Snape drew back from shock. "What do you mean..." He was cut off by Petunia.

"I mean, that Harry is your son."

Snape visibly looked shocked.

The only sound was a faint 'thud' was heard from the kitchen.

It seemed pretty good to stop. But I felt that it would be to short, and I wanted to get her stuff out of the way.

The two adults heard the soft thud in the kitchen, though neither moved. Snape peered at the woman,

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you and Lily had sex, and Harry was the result. Now, get off your ass and get the bloody hell out of here before Vernon comes home. And. Take. Harry. With. You." Petunia hissed.

Snape stood in shock, looking at the woman. He suddenly realized what he was seeing, not that crazy little girl who had despised him as a child, but a woman who was struggling to survive.

"He's beating you, isn't he?" Snape questioned.

"Well, beating is such a pale word in what he's been doing to Harry. Now hurry up, so I can go get Dudley and get to my friend's house in America." She hissed before limping into the kitchen to check on Harry.

Harry, who had collapsed on the floor when he heard that Snape was no longer just the slimy git of a potion's master, but his father, was currently shaking from agony and shock. He heard every word that followed, before looking into the eyes of his Aunt Petunia.

"Harry, you okay?" she whispered, knowing that, indeed the boy was not okay, but still, there was very little else to say.

"I'm fine Aunt Petunia." He said, his voice a little sore, before standing and turning to the cause of so much disruption.

"Hello, Professor Snape." Snape caught his sarcastic remark when he found himself looking at a younger version of himself, just with Lily's eyes and nose.

"Now do you believe me?" Petunia hissed. Standing before him, where just seconds ago had been a tiny, malnourished, and hurt version of Potter, was a boy who looked unmistakably like Severus Snape. The boy's skin became even more pale and translucent, his cheek bones were more prominent, his black, unruly hair, now hung to his shoulders, pin straight and silky. He looked like a beaten and broken pixie, not an abused little boy.

'Exactly how I looked, except he has his mother's eyes...' Snape was astounded. What the hell had caused the change?

"Hurry up Severus! Now, as you can see, the glamours have dropped, now get the hell out of here!"

The frail women practically shoved them up the stairs to where Harry was kept prisoner whenever Vernon felt like it. Snape was appalled at the dingy excuse for the boy's room.

"Harry," Petunia started, "remember when we wished on that star, when we wished that we could go far, far away, and never have to come back her, well, here's God's answer. Now, I need you to pack you stuff and go with Severus here, since he is your father. Now, I'm going to go to Roy in the United States, you remember Roy from the stories I tell you? Well, just write to Roy and I whenever you feel like, okay? Hedwig will know where to go." Harry was perplexed, but said nothing and chose to just do as he was told. He shoved his pathetic excuse for clothes into a nap-sack, before traipsing down stairs to have to have Snape unlock the cupboard door using magic.

Now, since we have all that done. I am allowed to completely recreate the world. -evil laugh, hand rub, and eye glitter-

Severus Snape woke with a gasp.

That's it, I'm never eating McGonnagall's fruit cake ever again.

Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror. It had been 5 years since that day Severus Snape complained about Fruit Cake induced dreams to the headmaster, who sent him just to make sure.

The "Harry, I'm your Father" scene wasn't exactly as the 'dream' had foretold, but, to Harry, it had still been confusing.

But, as they say, that was in the past.

For today, he had the most import things

Severus, his dad, was walking him down the isle today, to give Harry away. He had best friends who were more like siblings than anything. And he had a fiancee whom he adored. In-laws could be better, but, hey, they are Malfoys, what do you expect. And, Severus had finally gotten him a puppy last Christmas. Even better, Voldemort was dead.

To Harry, The Future couldn't be brighter.

Wow, when I look back, it seems more like a base for a story...oh well.