Prologue to the Past
Harry James Potter blinked his eyes and looked at his best friend Hermione Jean Granger. She’d been with him since the beginning. She stayed with him through Ron’s betrayal his fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament, their friendship never recovering from it. She left school with Harry after Dumbledore’s death on the run and working to destroy Horcrux. She followed him to the Forbidden Forest and held his hand when Voldemort sent the killing curse at him. At them.
And now they were standing on the platform of Hogwarts Express, only it wasn’t. Not really. Not with their dead headmaster standing before them telling them what they didn’t have to stay, didn’t have to cross over.
They shared a look, a silent communication, something they’ve done several times throughout the years. A twin communication that would rival even the Weasley Twins. They would, of course, go back.
Harry expected that they would wake up in the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by Death Eaters and their Dark Lord. Expected to hear the sounds that you can only hear during a war. He expected to have to wake (did one wake from death, there had to be a better word, he’d have to ask Hermione when this was all over), grab his friend’s hand and run for their lives.
He didn’t expect to wake up in the Forbidden Forest with his dead Potion Professor pointing his wand directly between his eyes. There was a wild look in his eyes, and as Harry tried to sit up, the wand made contact with his forehead and pushed him back, preventing the move. “Professor?” He asked, “Where are the Death Eaters?”
“Potter.” Snape bit out, eyes snapping briefly to Hermione laying on the ground next to him when she groaned before his attention snapped right back to Harry, “J-James Potter.”
“Harry Potter.” Harry replied, “Look, we don’t have time to explain, but…”
The wand against his forehead jabbed more into his already tender skin, he was sure his scar was bleeding, “Potter, whatever jok-…what is this?” Snape ground out.
“Sir.” Hermione said as she struggled to sit up, “How are you alive? You were just…We just…Did we leave you to die?” There was an anguished tone in her voice, because she’d never liked her potion teacher, but she wouldn’t want to wish his fate on anyone. And they had left him alone thinking he was dead. No one deserved to die, or almost die, alone like that.
Snape eyed Harry’s best friend and frowned, “What are you talking about girl? Whatever game James Potter is playing I suggest you think twice about playing it.” He’s stare bit into Hermione for a moment more before he turned his attention back to Harry, “How did you survive? How are you here? Why have you only just come now?”
“Sir.” Harry said slowly, “I’m not James Potter, I’m his son Harry.”
Snape looked at him for a long moment, his wand hand steady and sure and it continued to stab into his forehead. “Harry Potter is a child in his first year at Hogwarts. I suggest you try a new lie.”