Vice versa (Harry Potter)

«Hello, apple codling moth!

Something's spinning here like crazy! But, as usual, I can't write about it—it's too dangerous. So, just wait until summer break, and then we'll talk for real!

I'm sending you one thing—you'll see for yourself what it is. It was my father's, well, not quite mine directly, and how I got it is another story I'll explain in person. The important thing is to hide it properly and not show it to anyone. I can't keep it here—they'll find it in no time. And bear in mind, it's a magical item. If anything leaks, they'll twist both our heads off, and you, well, they'll wipe your memory entirely. Your brain is too valuable to me, so be as cautious as possible!»

«Hello, lemon eater!

Got it, enjoyed it, hid it in our secret spot. It's an awesome thing! It's a pity you can't do magic during summer break; you could've shown me something cool… Those moving pictures in your books are neat, of course, but they're not quite enough. Oh well.

Waiting for you!»

"I've come to say goodbye, sir!" Harry preempted the question, shifting from foot to foot on the threshold. "I mean, until autumn."

"I thought as much. Goodbye until autumn, Potter," Snape sighed. "And…"

"Sir, may I ask a question?"

"Oh, just come in already…" The professor pulled the student into the office. "What do you want?"

"Do you know any way to bypass the underage magic restriction?" Harry asked boldly.

"Have you lost your mind, Potter?" Snape asked, genuinely surprised.

"No," Harry answered honestly. "I'm serious, sir. It's terribly unfair: if you have even one wizard parent, you can do all the magic you want, but if you live with Muggles—even if they know everything—you're stuck!"

"I see…" Snape said in a tone that promised trouble. "I suppose this is about your friend?"

"Why do you think so, sir?"

"Because I doubt you're foolish enough to, say, enchant your cousin with a snout or a tail."

"Wow, you just said I'm not foolish!" Harry marveled. "But still, sir?"

"There are ways," Snape admitted reluctantly. "One could spend the summer with wizard friends. When my mother passed away, and I lost the opportunity to practice during summer… well, the Malfoys usually invited me, as they were aware of my circumstances."

"No luck, sir," Harry said with characteristic delicacy, ignoring the personal revelation. "I don't have wizard friends, and you're not likely to take me in for the summer. Not that I'd agree—I want to go home!"

"You know, there should be limits to audacity!" Snape scoffed. "Though, what am I saying…"

"You were talking about ways to bypass the restriction," Harry reminded him.

"An unregistered wand," Snape said reluctantly. "But that won't help you. You lack both the money and the means to acquire one."

"Won't you lend me one, sir?" Harry asked innocently. "I swear I won't maim, disfigure, or misbehave. I just want to show Terry a couple of tricks!"

"And why do you think I…" Snape stopped himself. "You've gone completely mad, Potter!"

"As if you wouldn't have something like that…" Harry muttered. "Fine, no means no. I'll practice wandless magic. See you in autumn, sir!"

"Stop right there, Potter!" Snape barked, vividly imagining the disasters a half-trained wizard's wandless experiments could cause. "You'll be the death of me…"

"Never," Harry promised, standing at attention as Snape rummaged through his desk drawers.

"Here," Snape said grimly, showing Harry a wand. "It's a clunker, but you should manage the simplest spells. Go on, try it…"

Sparks, a weak levitation spell, and color-changing charms were, in fact, successful.

"If anyone finds out I gave you this…"

"They'll twist our heads off," Harry said cheerfully, pocketing the wand. "Thank you, sir! I'll return it in autumn…"

"Don't even think of using your own wand! And if you attempt anything serious with this one…"

"Sir, I'm not an idiot," Harry said with dignity. "I told you, just small tricks for Terry. And if anything… can I write to you?"

"And how would you manage that? You don't even have an owl."

"Oh, right," Harry said in frustration. "So, no."

"Send a telegram," Snape said sarcastically. "I don't live here in the summer. Write this address down, Potter, you punishment of mine…"

"Oh, you sound just like my aunt!" Harry exclaimed, fishing a notebook out of his bag. "I'm all ears, sir!"

"…And try not to get yourself killed," the professor advised, seeing him out the door. "I still have… oh, Merlin, I still have so many years to teach you!"

"That's great!" Harry snorted and dashed off. Time to go home.

"So, what do you think?" Harry asked, swinging his leg and finishing off a tangerine. For a change, he'd been peeling them, scattering the peels on the ground beneath the apple tree.

"It's a mess," Terry sighed, slumping. "I think, mate, you're in some serious trouble."

"I was in serious trouble before I was even born," Harry reminded him. "They keep nudging me toward solving this problem, but I don't want to solve it at all!"

"Mhm..."

"Listen!" Harry suddenly brightened. "What if I became the Dark Lord myself? Seriously, why not? I'm already a lord—or will be, once I grow up. I'll stop dyeing my hair... Imagine this jerk comes back to life—bam, the position's already taken!"

"You'd still have to fight him," Terry reasonably pointed out. "He wouldn't give up just like that. Do you really want that?"

"I don't want any of this, but I'm sick of everyone!" Harry snapped. "The headmaster keeps droning on, 'My boy, you must prepare for greatness,' or something like that. Snape looks at me like he either wants to kill me or burst into tears. And the rest? They know something but keep their mouths shut. So, what am I supposed to do?"

"Wait it out," Terry declared after some thought. "You don't know much, and they aren't telling you the whole truth. Feels like they want you to figure it out yourself, right?"

"Exactly."

"Then go figure it out," Terry squinted his blue eyes. "But make sure no one knows. By the way, do you want this magical rag back?"

"No, no!" Harry recoiled. "Let it stay hidden. Too many people are hunting for it... Those three searched the entire castle, poked around every corner, looking for it. Can you imagine? They somehow got hold of Polyjuice Potion, broke into our common room, and tried to rummage through my trunk!"

"And you set traps," his friend said with a satisfied grin.

"Traps or not, I've been hiding things from Dudley for ages, and now there's magic involved. One of them got a broken finger, and the rest ended up with a nasty rash," Harry said grimly. "By the way, mate, I promised to show you something interesting..."

"What could be more interesting than an invisibility cloak?"

"Ha!" Harry replied, pulling up his trouser leg to reveal a wand taped to his leg. "Watch this! Check if anyone's around?"

"Are you crazy?" Terry asked in genuine fear. "You said you can't use magic during the holidays!"

"This isn't my wand," Harry grinned. "I borrowed a spare from a professor. I can't do anything serious with it, but at least..."

A firework of colorful sparks lit up the evening sky.

"Pretty," Terry smiled. "What else?"

"Well, I can levitate stuff... whoops, it fell! I'm not risking any transformations—I don't feel this wand at all!"

"What a dork," Terry said, laughing...

...The next day, the doorbell rang on Privet Drive.

Standing on the porch was a well-dressed, neatly groomed boy.

"Terence?" Aunt Petunia asked in surprise.

"Good afternoon," he said politely. "Sorry to bother you, but my parents and I are heading to London. Would you let Harry come with us? Please, Mrs. Dursley?"

"Auntie, please!" Harry shouted, bounding down the stairs. "I'll mow the lawn tonight or tomorrow, I swear—just please let me go!"

"Go get changed," Petunia ordered, then turned to Terry. "Are your parents okay with this? Don't they know how much of a troublemaker Harry is?"

"It was their idea," Terry shrugged. In truth, his parents were always busy, and when they had a free moment, they'd grab their son and drag him around the shops. It was their special passion, and Terry didn't mind—it meant he never had to ask for anything. "Oh, Mrs. Dursley, something smells amazing!"

"I've been baking pies," she said, softening immediately. "Would you like one?"

"If it's no trouble! Your pies are simply divine!"

"I'll pack some for you," Petunia said as she led him to the kitchen. "I know your parents—they're always in a rush, grabbing snacks wherever they can. But children your age need proper meals..."

"Absolutely, Mrs. Dursley," Terry said solemnly as he accepted a hefty package of pies. "Thank you so much. Harry, are you ready yet?"

"All set!" Harry said. "Aunt Petunia, do I look decent?"

She critically examined him, straightened his collar, smoothed his hair, and tugged at his jacket. Satisfied, she nodded.

"Behave yourself," she ordered. "The last thing we need is Mr. and Mrs. Higgs complaining about you!"

"I'll be the picture of perfection!" Harry promised, and he and Terry dashed out.

"Savior..." Harry said as they ran. "My hero! I hate mowing the lawn!"

"As if I didn't know..." Terry rolled his eyes. "Dad, Mom, we're here!"

"Hello, Harry," Mr. Higgs greeted him. "Hop in!"

"Want some pie, Harry?" Mrs. Higgs asked from the front seat.

Who Terry had taken after—short, wiry, with reddish-brown hair and dreamy blue eyes—was anyone's guess. Both his parents were on the shorter side but stocky, swarthy, and dark-haired, with equally dark eyes. It must have been some ancestor's influence, Harry thought.

"We'll make a quick stop here," Mrs. Higgs chirped, "then check out the clothing sale—rumor has it there are great discounts..."

"Mom," Terry interjected, "can you drop us off downtown? We need to go to the bookstore."

"Uh-huh, bookstore," Mr. Higgs rumbled. "You're probably going to blow your money on arcade games, aren't you?"

"If we had any to blow..." Harry muttered.

"Dad, you know me better than that!" Terry snorted. "Drop us off? Otherwise, what are we supposed to do while Mom shops for clothes? We won't get lost—we're grown up now!"

"Fine, fine..." Mr. Higgs grumbled good-naturedly. "Here's some money. If you're late, take the bus back, or we'll never find you..."

"Stop swearing in front of the kids!"

"These kids swear worse than I do!"

"That's no excuse!"

"Here we go," Terry chuckled. "Want some apple pie? It's good!"

"Listen..." Harry said thoughtfully. "I know where the professor lives. I mean, in the normal world. He gave me the address, just in case..."

"So?" Terry frowned.

"I want you to meet him," Harry said firmly.

"Are you nuts? Why?"

"I need you to take a look at him," Harry said seriously. "You've got a knack for figuring people out. Maybe I'm wrong, but you might notice something... Will you come with me? It's not far; we can take the bus."

"Won't he throw us out?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "Maybe he won't even be home. But I have a feeling we should try. Remember I said everyone hates him?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think anyone visits him in the summer?"

"Doesn't he have any adult friends?"

"Who knows," Harry sighed. "Shall we risk it? If it doesn't work out, we'll eat all this and actually blow the money on arcade games."

"Let's risk it," Terry agreed after some thought. "I'm dying to see what he's like if you're so... uh..."

"Attached," Harry suggested. "We just need to pick up a few things first..."

..."This the place?" Terry asked, frowning as he looked around.

"Looks like it. Spinner's End."

"What a dump..." Terry muttered. "You know, mate, if he grew up here, I get why you hit it off!"

"Why's that?"

"Because living in a slum like this and not learning to throw punches is a direct ticket to the afterlife!" Terry snorted, double-checking the address. "This house?"

"Yep. Huh..."

"Now this is what I call a slum..." Terry drawled. "Go on, knock! Or are you chickening out?"

"Want a black eye?" Harry retorted grimly as he stepped onto the rickety porch.

It seems that the knock on the door caught the host off guard: one hand held a newspaper, the other a teaspoon, and besides, Harry had never seen Professor Snape in jeans and a loose shirt before.

"Great Merlin, you again!" Snape exclaimed. "I was hoping not to see you at least during the summer!"

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologized, "I accidentally got out of the house and thought I'd visit you. Also, I'd really like to introduce you to my friend..."

He stepped aside, and Snape saw another boy.

"If we're intruding, we'll leave, of course," Potter began to babble. "Sorry to bother you!"

"Just come in already..." Snape muttered, tossing aside the newspaper and dragging them both into the house. "I take it this is Terry?"

"Terence Higgs, sir," the boy said politely, eyeing the professor with open curiosity. "But Terry is fine. Nice to meet you—Harry's told me a lot about you."

"Potter, what exactly have you been telling him?" Snape inquired, leading the boys into the living room. Living room in name only, but who cares!

"Everything," Harry replied. "Wow! Sir, can I take a closer look at the books?"

"You can, just don't touch them, or you'll lose a hand. And what's all this junk you're carrying?"

"Oh!" Potter exclaimed, startled. "Well, it felt rude to come empty-handed... This is an apple pie—Terry's mum made it, it's amazing. These are meat pies from Aunt Petunia—not poisoned, I checked. We also brought some juices, and here's fruit," he added without a hint of embarrassment. "They wouldn't sell us anything stronger, of course..."

"Tea?" Snape asked civilly, feeling acute cognitive dissonance.

"Yes, please, sir!" the boys said in unison, and he retreated.

What an interesting pair they were! Higgs seemed like a quiet type compared to the noisy and brazen Potter, but that was clearly just a façade. Potter had "told him everything," and they'd clearly been speculating together, so Higgs was likely handling the analytical side. Harry, Snape smirked, was simpler—it was easier for him to punch someone than to fish out a stubborn truth.

The visit didn't go smoothly. Higgs was visibly uncomfortable in the professor's presence, Potter started to fidget (clearly because of his friend), and Snape himself didn't find their company particularly enjoyable. At first, he was afraid of slipping up about magic, then remembered Higgs knew about it and relaxed a bit, but still...

"We should probably go, sir," Harry suddenly said, glancing at the clock, much to Snape's relief. "Sorry for taking up your time. We... didn't think it through."

"Didn't think it through, he says! Pies, and everything else..."

"Our folks have probably left by now," Terry muttered softly.

"And how will you get home?" Snape asked.

"By bus, how else?"

"Potter! If you're planning to take a Muggle on the Knight Bus..."

"Sir, what Knight Bus? Just a regular one—we'll be home in a couple of hours!"

"Fine..." he replied darkly. Completely feral from being at Hogwarts! "Be careful."

"Thank you, sir!" Potter grinned broadly. Higgs looked calm, direct, studying him—such stares Snape disliked most of all. "Sorry again for the trouble, but I..."

He hesitated.

"I missed you," his eyes plainly said. The next school year promised to be very interesting indeed!

"Go on, it's getting dark!" The professor pushed the boys out the door, locked it, returned to the living room, and sank into an armchair.

In the cups, the tea had gone cold. On a platter, transformed from who-knows-what, lay meat pies and slices of apple pie. Nearby were apples and oranges that the guests had devoured without count. The silence of the empty house first blanketed him like a quilt, then broke with the creaks of beams and floorboards, the groaning of pipes...

"To hell with it!" Snape said, grabbing another pie.

..."What do you think?" Harry asked after a long silence.

The bus was racing them home. A scolding awaited, but neither cared.

"I think..." Terry carefully chose his words. "I think he's a very lonely man."

"Hmm?"

"Think of your house or ours, where women are in charge. Get it? There, if anyone visits, it's just in passing. It's clean, overall, but you said that's done with spells... Otherwise, it's chaos. He knows where everything is, and that's enough for him." Terry sighed. "And he was terrified when we came."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed.

"He didn't know what to do with us," Terry explained. "How to act. At school, it's easier—he's the teacher, that's all. But here..."

"True..." Potter realized. "I've only seen him that nervous once, but it was serious, I told you about it."

"Yeah."

"We invaded his space," Higgs said seriously. "Whether it was wrong or not, I don't know. But one thing's for sure—I won't be jealous of him anymore!"

"Well, thanks for that!"

"You don't get it, Harry," Terry said softly. "Have you ever looked him in the eyes?"

"Yeah, once..." Harry shuddered.

"Look again. When he looks at you, there's this... deep sorrow. He knows something about you but can't say or isn't allowed to—I don't know what vows you all have. Anyway..." Terry stared at his hands. "It's up to you to figure it out. It doesn't seem like guilt over your mum or anything like that. It's worse."

"You're saying some creepy stuff, mate..."

"Who said it shouldn't be creepy? You wanted me to meet the professor—well, I did. I've drawn my conclusions, and I'm not responsible for them being like this... Maybe I'm wrong!"

"You're never wrong," Harry muttered. "Fine, I'll think about it and see how things go... Hey, guardian angel, how'd you feel about going shopping for school stuff with me?"

"To that magic street of yours?" Terry's eyes lit up.

"Yeah!"

"Can I?"

"We'll arrange it!" Harry grinned mischievously. "Sometimes I wish you were a wizard—it'd be easier for us together. Then I think: thank Merlin you're a regular guy. Life in the magical world is insanely hard!"

"Our stop," Terry said. "Let's go... great wizard!"

"Terry..." Harry said, slowing as they disembarked. "I need to make another trip. Will you cover for me?"

"Of course. To the professor?"

"Yeah... I've got an idea. I'll tell you on the way!"