Fic: Bat and Snake (Bruce Wayne/Severus Snape)
Well, this was meant to be February's entry to the Five Years of Epee challenge, but I didn't decide to do this until halfway through the month. This was from Razor's Prompt (and I'll save the long story about that for another time.) Remember that you can still prompt me with fic ideas. I need 3 more if I'm to fulfill the goal of 5 fanfics by my fifth Livejournal anniversary. Seanchaidh's fic is going to be my next project.
Title: Bat and Snake
Author: Epeeblade
Rating: G-PG
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Severus Snape
Fandoms: Harry Potter and Batman (comicverse)
Category: AU, Drama, Action-Adventure, Crossover
Archive: Please ask me first
Email: Epeeblade _at_ gmail DOT com
Notes: It’s crack fic. I played hard and fast with the timelines. Thanks to lapillus for looking this over for me. All mistakes are my own. And thanks to Razor for dropping the bunny in my lap. Part of the Five Years of Epee challenge.
Spoilers: For all 6 of the Harry Potter books, references made to recent Batman issues, namely the Bruce Wayne: Murderer storyline, although you really don’t have to have read it to understand the fic.
Summary: What if Bruce Wayne went to Hogwarts?
Bat and Snake
By Epeeblade
Year One
He was conscious of how small he was, the crowds of people pressing in and he moved closer to Alfred. He was too old to hold Alfred’s hand, but young enough to want some sort of physical contact. Instead, he held onto the handle of the pushcart Alfred had gotten to carry his luggage. They paused just short of Platform 9. The instructions were explicit; Bruce would go on his own from this point on.
“Are you absolutely certain about this, Master Bruce?” There was something odd in Alfred’s voice.
“Mother went to Hogwarts,” Bruce answered, as if that explained everything. It had been a surprise, the letters that arrived on his eleventh birthday, when Alfred gravely informed Bruce his mother had been a witch. Bruce had had his choice of Wizarding schools, and he had decided on going abroad. It would look strange for the Wayne heir to attend one of the many Wizarding Charter schools set up around the country. It was easier to fool the press by attending one abroad and what better than in Alfred’s home country?
“You know if you should change your mind, I will be close at hand to fetch you home.”
Bruce looked up and tried to smile. “I know.”
Alfred was too much an Englishman to do more than pat his shoulder to send him off. “Write me as soon as you are able.”
Bruce stepped away and waved. He took a deep breath and started off at a run, pushing his cart into the pillar…
Which he went right through and onto platform 9 ¾.
He looked around and found himself now surrounded by children just like him, pushing their carts towards the great locomotive that waited for them. The Hogwarts Express. He quickly saw to his luggage and climbed aboard.
Every cabin seemed to be full. A few times he heard someone snicker “first year,” but he just pushed ahead. Finally he came to a cabin with just one boy in it. He was dressed in long black robes and was curled up against the window, staring out into the busy train station. His long black hair hung in a dark curtain, hiding his face.
Bruce felt conspicuous in his clothing, ‘muggle’ clothing he supposed he should call it. “Um, excuse me, could I share your cabin?”
The boy turned around and focused the blackest set of eyes upon him. He shrugged and looked back out. “Do what you like.”
Bruce slid inside, closing the door behind him. “I’m Bruce Wayne.”
The boy didn’t answer.
Bruce noticed he was clutching a wand in his hand. “Are you doing magic?”
“Haven’t you seen magic before?” the boy looked his way again.
“Just when I made sparks come out of my wand at Ollivander’s.”
“Are your parents muggles?” the boy’s voice raised and nearly squeaked on the last word.
“My mom was a witch,” Bruce said. Hmm, perhaps there was some shame in having muggle parents. He would have to observe this and make sure he didn’t say anything he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to stand out any more than he already did.
“If your dad wasn’t, then you’re a half-blood. Didn’t your mum explain all this?”
“My parents are dead,” Bruce said through gritted teeth. Odd, to find someone who didn’t know. Back home, everyone patted his head and murmured ‘poor Brucie.’
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here after all.
“Oh,” the boy said.
“You didn’t tell me your name.”
“Severus, Severus Snape.”
“Bruce Wayne,” he said again, holding his hand out. Snape hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Do you want to see some real magic?” Snape’s mouth curved up into a smirk and his eyes lit up.
“I sure would.”
Year Three
Bruce bit into the apple he had snagged from the great hall. He had curled himself onto the window ledge of the owlry, his book propped up on his lap. Instead of suffering through Divination, Dumbledore had approved his request for an advanced Muggle studies correspondence course. Bruce knew he was going back to Gotham when he finished here; he had a mission, a goal. Magic was going to help him tremendously, but he couldn’t stay out of touch with the real world.
“Are you hiding up here again?” the voice of his fellow Slytherin broke into his concentration.
Bruce looked up at Snape, framed in the doorway. His normally dark hair was a shocking pink. “Did you end up on the wrong side of a prank again?”
“What do you think?” Snape scowled.
Bruce pulled out his wand and threw a *finite* at Snape. His hair remained pink.
“I tried that.”
“Why don’t you just stay out of their way?”
“They won’t leave me alone!”
“Like you weren’t the one who put the spiders in Potter’s breakfast.”
“I would never be so pedestrian.” Snape sniffed. He busied himself petting one of the sleepy owls. It was the middle of the day after all.
Bruce turned back to his book. “I’m afraid you’ll have to resort to hair dye until it grows out.”
Snape snorted. “Only because they somehow made it resistant. Do you even pay attention in transfiguration?”
“Transfiguration is irrelevant,” Bruce turned the page. “Chemistry…that’s where it’s at.”
“Where what is at?” Snape leaned over to take a look at his book. “That looks like Arithmancy.”
“Of a sort. It’s actually more similar to Potions.”
“Why are you studying this? Muggle science is just a weak attempt to compensate for lack of magic.”
Bruce closed the book. He wasn’t going to explain anything to Snape. “I just like to know things.”
“You should have been sorted into Ravenclaw.”
Bruce smiled. “Maybe so.” He slid off of the window ledge. “Let me check on Ghost, then we’ll see about your hair.”
“You’re the only one with a bat as a familiar.”
Bruce lifted the cloth that covered Ghost’s cage. He grinned and rubbed her head. She shuddered, her wings opening before settling back into slumber. “It reminds me of home. It’s fine, she’s let out at night to hunt with the owls.”
“Bats make good potion ingredients.”
“You touch my bat, pink hair is the least of your worries.”
Snape barked a laugh.
Year Five
It was all over the common room by the time Bruce made it back to the dungeons. Stupid Gryffindors, he thought, ignoring the laughter and hushed voices as he made his way to the room he shared with three other Slytherins. One of them was Severus Snape.
Snape sat on his bed, a textbook on his lap. He scowled at Bruce when he walked it. That was probably how he was keeping the rest of their roommates out, but Bruce was glare proof. He dropped onto his own bed; pulling out the textbooks he was going to review that night.
He couldn't let it go though. "I hear you've run afoul of the Gryffindor Five."
"Oh good show, lead with the obvious, see what I give up. Stay out of it Wayne."
Bruce loosened his tie and looped it around the bedpost. "I'm just surprised to find you here instead of plotting vengeance."
Snape didn't say anything for a moment. He picked up his quill and made a notation in his textbook. Bruce figured he had taken the vengeance comment to heart. He'd sneak a peak at the book if he didn't think Snape would hex him into next week.
"Damn Jordan anyway." Snape finally burst out.
Ah. The crux of the problem. Snape and his adversaries had been going back and forth since first year. It was only this year, when Hal Jordan suddenly entered the equation that things had gotten nastier than usual. "He's a Brat, he'll be gone before next term."
Snape looked up from his book. "Brat?"
"Don't you pay any attention in Muggle Studies? I think it's an American thing actually. Military brat. His dad's in the United States Air Force and moves around from base to base. Right now he's stationed here, but there's no telling when he'll be reassigned and Jordan out of our lives."
"How do you know all this?"
"I pay attention." Bruce picked up one of his textbooks and thumbed through it. It was the newest one Alfred had sent as part of his "correspondence" course: "Psychology and the Criminal Mind."
"This is what you pick up from those Holmes books you keep trying to foist on me."
"You could learn a few things about subtly from Holmes." Bruce leaned on one elbow and looked over at Snape. "You should tell the headmaster if it's gotten worse."
Snape snorted and didn't dignify that with a response.
He had a point, Bruce conceded, but couldn't help but think there had to be another solution to this constant give and take.
Snape slid from the bed and pulled his cloak from his trunk.
"Where are you going?" Bruce asked.
"I managed to get something from my little encounter today. Jordan spilled where Lupin sneaks off to every month. Hidden passage under the Whomping Willow."
"I see you're well on the way to plotting vengeance." Bruce said.
Snape rolled his eyes.
"What is your obsession with Lupin anyway?" Snape could go on tears for hours, railing against his tormentors, but whenever the subject of Lupin came up, his ranting was different somehow.
"They're breaking rules, and I'm going to catch them in the act." Snape answered.
"You do that." Whatever his real motivations were, Snape was obviously not going to share them. "Just don't let LeStrange see you, his head is especially far up his ass this evening."
Snape barked a laugh and slipped out of the room. Bruce had no doubt he'd be able to slip out of the common room without anyone seeing. Sometime he had to figure out how Snape managed it, so he could imitate it.
Shaking thoughts of Snape from his mind, he went back to his textbook. He skimmed through a few chapters, reading along until:
Full Moons are traditionally associated with temporal insomnia,
insanity (hence the terms lunacy and lunatic) and various magical
phenomena such as lycanthropy. Psychologists, however, have found that
there is no strong evidence for effects on human behaviour around the
time of a full moon. (1)
Then why the increase in criminal activity? Bruce thought, or was that also a myth? He needed to do more research. He shuffled his notes around, and his pages from Astronomy fell out. Tonight was a full moon. His eyes lingered back over the textbook, "various magical phenomena such as lycanthropy." Remus Lupin disappeared once every month. Surely Snape couldn't be so stupid as to notice that fact and not think...
Bruce sat up and tossed his book to the side. He had to stop Snape.
***
Bruce ran across the green fields of Hogwarts grounds, clods of grass tossed up by his feet. The sun was long gone over the horizon and clouds just covered the rising moon. He held his wand at the ready and came to a stop before the Whomping Willow. The Whomping Willow that wasn’t currently Whomping anything at the moment.
Still, he remained on his guard, creeping closer in case the tree was trying to lure him into a false sense of security. However, it didn’t move, and once he got close enough he could see the opening between the massive roots of the tree. “Lumos!” he cast, lighting his way into the dark tunnel.
He slowed down, trying to get his bearings as he moved quickly through the tunnel. It opened up gradually, so he no longer had to hunch over to walk through it. His heart beat loudly in his chest, but he heard nothing else. The tunnel seemed to go on for a long while. Bruce counted the steps in his head, trying to keep a record of how far he had gone. He began to move faster, there was no time to lose.
Voices broke into his hearing.
“You fool. Get out of here!”
“What the hell are you…Potter…Merlin….”
That was Snape’s voice. Bruce ran forward, just in time to see James Potter dragging Snape away from a trap door cut into the earth.
“Snape!” He called.
“Wayne? You followed me?”
“I came to warn you! Lupin’s a …”
“Werewolf.” Snape rasped out.
Now Bruce could make out the growls and snarling against the wooden doorway.
“Move, get out of here.” Potter pushed Snape forward.
“I should have known you were up to no good! Hiding a werewolf!” Snape sputtered.
This wasn’t the time. Bruce opened his mouth to say so when he heard the splintering. The trap door was giving way.
“Run!” he screamed, before turning to do so himself.
They were almost halfway through the tunnel when they heard the crash behind them. The long claws of the werewolf made a sickening scraping sound against the stone floor. Bruce knew they wouldn’t make it. The tunnel only got narrower from here on out. They wouldn’t be able to outrun a werewolf half-bent over.
He stopped in his tracks.
Snape noticed. “Wayne, what are you doing? Werewolves are resistant to magic!”
“Keep going, trust me.” The tunnel was just the right width here, and still tall enough that he could brace his legs on either wall. Bruce shimmied himself up to the ceiling. With luck, the werewolf would run past him before he caught Bruce’s scent.
He just needed Potter and Snape to keep running.
The sounds of the werewolf’s claws grew louder. When he heard the labored breathing of the beast, Bruce knew it was close.
The werewolf ran past him, and then paused, as if confused. He probably scented Bruce from above. It was larger than any wolf Bruce had ever seen and covered with scraggly silver-gray fur. Pointed ears stood up on the back of its long head, as if reaching out for above. Before it could change its mind, Bruce dropped from the ceiling onto the creature’s back.
He had only a split second before the creature would reach around and snap at him. A second before he was either dead or turned himself. Bruce pushed forward with all his might, his hand darting out to hit the pressure point behind the wolf’s ear, just as sensei had taught him. The werewolf slumped to the floor, senseless.
Bruce stumbled off the creature, breathing heavily.
“Is he dead?” Potter’s voice. The idiots hadn’t gone far.
“No, unconscious. I don’t know how long, so we’d better get out of the tunnel and shut the damn door.”
They didn’t argue with him this time, simply followed him back through to Hogwart’s grounds. He watched as Potter closed the entrance to the tunnel and the Whomping Willow came alive again.
“How did you do that?” Snape asked under his breath. He had slumped to the ground, breathing in shallow gasps. Shock, Bruce thought.
What do you think I do over the summer holidays? He wanted to respond, but instead shook his head. “We’re going to see the headmaster.”
Snape didn’t argue.
***
Snape faced off against Dumbledore, his hands balled into fists at his side. Bruce could have told him that wouldn’t work. Dumbledore was the picture of calm, offering them both tea from a tray. Bruce took a cup and sat back in one of the large chairs in the headmaster’s office.
“They should all be expelled!”
“Severus, do sit down.” Dumbledore said calmly.
Snape pursed his thin lips together, but he sat, clenching his robes in his fingers like claws in the black fabric.
“I’m going to ask you to trust me, as someone much older than yourself and headmaster of this school for longer than you’ve been alive, to handle this situation as I see fit.”
“But Lupin’s a werewolf!”
“By circumstances beyond his control. I’m sure you understand, Mr. Snape, that sometimes one cannot choose the events that shape one’s life.”
Bruce looked from Snape’s face to Dumbledore’s. Snape still looked flushed and angry. Dumbledore never changed.
“We could have been killed.” He tried finally, but even Bruce could tell the anger had passed.
“And I will deal with the one who caused tonight’s events.” Now Dumbledore’s voice was cold, the closest Bruce had ever heard to anger in the old man.
Snape nodded, stiffly.
“Now go back to your rooms. It’s still dark enough that you both can get some sleep.” When Snape jumped up, Dumbledore put one hand on his shoulder and told him. “I’m certain I can impress upon you the importance of keeping tonight’s events secret. Yours is not the only life in the balance.”
Snape broke away, but he nodded again and made for the door.
Bruce stood, setting his cup of tea upon Dumbledore’s cluttered desk. He didn’t manage to get away without a hand pat himself.
“Mr. Wayne,” the headmaster said softly, soft enough so that Snape now outside the office would not hear. “Severus is fortunate to count you among his friends.”
“Snape doesn’t have friends.” Bruce answered. “What will happen to Jordan?” Because it was Hal Jordan who had caused all this.
“Trust me, Bruce, to do what is needed.”
Bruce imitated Snape and nodded.
He didn’t see Hal Jordan at Hogwarts again.
Year Six
Few students spent Friday nights in the Hogwarts Library. Bruce and Snape just happened to be two of them. They sat at one of the long tables near the stacks of shelving, books strewn across the wooden surface. NEWTS were not that far off, after all. And Bruce had his own extracurricular studies to keep up with as well.
He sat back from his textbook, eyes tearing. There apparently was such a thing as too much studying. Bruce looked over at Snape, who was scribbling furiously in his Potions textbook. He wondered what Snape spent so much time writing. There was nobody as good at Potions as Snape in all of Hogwarts.
Because he had shifted in his seat, he was at the perfect angle to see Remus Lupin approaching from across the room. He tried to wave him away, but the other young man was not to be deterred.
“Um, hello, Severus,” Lupin stammered.
“This is a library, Lupin, have some sense to not behave like a common animal and whisper,” Snape hissed, not looking up from his textbook.
Bruce winced mentally. But like a train wreck, he could not look away.
“I’m sorry,” Lupin whispered.
“No,” Snape retorted. “You’re not. Leave me alone.”
“Severus…”
“I’m certain you don’t want me to raise my voice. Perhaps someone might hear about a certain dark creature haunting the grounds…” Severus made another notation in his book.
Lupin pushed himself away from the desk. “Someday you’ll listen to me.”
“I highly doubt that.” Snape shot back, finally closing his textbook. He watched Lupin leave the library.
“You know,” Bruce leaned back, propping his legs on the chair across from his. “You might want to hear him out. If he feels indebted to you…”
“I can call in the favor later.” Snape turned his dark gaze onto Bruce.
Bruce straightened up in his seat. When Snape looked like that…”You’ve got it all planned out already.”
“You’re one to talk.” Snape retorted. “You know, I believe I need a book.”
“Oh?” Bruce shook his head at the change of subject.
“Yes, one in the deepest section of the stacks.” Snape narrowed his eyes.
Oh, Snape was in that kind of a mood. Bruce grinned. “Well then, I’ll just have to help you find it.” He rose from his seat, dropping his quill onto the table. Bruce backed away, giving Snape a look of his own. Snape followed with a groan and all but pushed him into one set of shelving.
They couldn’t spend all their time studying, he thought, as he dipped his head for a kiss.
Year Seven
The other seven-years were in the common room; someone had smuggled in a bottle of fire whiskey and they were determining who was going to get the next sip with some sadistic game that was part spin the bottle and part Chinese water torture. Bruce was up in his room, packing his trunk for the last time. He was taking special care with his books, dividing the magical ones from his muggle tomes.
The door to the room opened and Snape staggered in. Bruce suspected he had had more than his share of the fire whiskey.
“Wayne, what are you doing up here?” Snape leaned unsteadily against one of the columns of his bed.
“You’re speaking to me now?” He’d have to remember to collect Ghost before he left tomorrow. She was still in the owlry under the charm that made her look like another owl.
Snape moved to sit on the bed. “I never stopped speaking to you. You stopped speaking to me.”
Bruce didn’t mention the way Snape wouldn’t meet his eyes from the moment he stepped on the train after the summer hols. He didn’t mention how he hadn’t received a single owl from Snape all summer. He didn’t mention how Snape never spoke about sixth year. He also didn’t say he noticed Snape rubbing at his left forearm. Instead, he said, “We’ll be moving in different circles.”
“You don’t have to go back to the muggles,” Snape said.
Snape didn’t understand the mission, Bruce thought absently, thumbing through the last volume he had to pack. “And what would I do here? Join your little group of friends? They have no interest in a half-blood from the colonies.”
“You don’t understand them,” Snape said.
Bruce didn’t answer. He was done with his books. All he had left were his robes. And once he put those away, they’d be gone for good. There was no need for them when he arrived back in Gotham. He wasn’t planning on staying very long anyway.
Someone banged on the door. “Snape! It’s your turn!”
“Right!” he shouted back. Snape stood unsteadily and made his way to the door. “Sure you’re not coming?”
“Yes.” Bruce closed the lid of his trunk. “I’m sure.”
Epilogue
He knew the moment the Batmobile entered the cave that his wards had been breached, but his security systems had noticed nothing. Batman slid out of the car and crouched in a fighting stance. He kept his senses open, trying to feel where the attack would be coming from.
"How like you, to make a home with bats." A sly slithering voice echoed from the other end of the cave. It was much deeper than the last time he heard it, but there was no mistaking those sibilant tones.
"Snape," he bit out.
The figure emerged from the shadows. Severus Snape was now 20 years older, but still as slim and as hawk-nosed as ever. He glided down the steps to the cave, his long robes melting around him as he moved.
"Wayne."
Batman straightened from his fighting stance, but he didn't relax. With Snape, the battle wouldn't be physical. "How did you get in here?"
"You're out of practice. Your wards are terribly inadequate and your butler has a remarkably open mind." He must have caught Bruce's anger because he amended. "He's fine. He'll wake with a mild headache and nothing more."
Batman made a note to check on Alfred later, he put aside his worry for the moment. "What do you want?"
Snape continued to come closer. "My, my, is this what you did with you lessons from Hogwarts? I can feel the charms on your suit from here. A few 'look aways' and the always-good-for-a-laugh silencing spell. Not afraid of an unfair advantage, are you? I bet you even keep your wand at hand."
"Wands are nothing more but crutches. They can be broken."
"But you can't."
They stared each other down. Bruce took the time to notice what Snape wasn't saying: the dark rings under his eyes, his haggard features, and the drape of his clothing that indicated he had lost weight. "Not easy on the run, is it?"
Snape visibly started. Good.
"You don't think I don't know, do you?" Batman stalked past him, giving the appearance that he didn't care what Snape did or where he was. He punched a button on his computer and the screen came to life, plastering pictures of the Daily Prophet across the LCD. The issues all carried the headline that Severus Snape was a murderer.
Snape cleared his throat. "I seem to recall similar headlines not too long ago with your own face, claiming something similar."
Bruce stiffened.
"Sometimes things are not at all what they appear."
"What do you want, Severus?"
"Your help. You know about Voldemort?" Snape winced as he said the name. "He will not stop with Wizarding England."
"Do you remember Hal Jordan?" Batman asked, seeming to have nothing to do with Snape's statement.
"Of course I remember that pompous arse," Snape retorted. "I don't see what that has to do with…"
"Do you know what happened to him?" Batman interrupted. "Dumbledore obliviated him. Removed all knowledge of the wizarding world from his mind."
"A suitable punishment for plotting to murder me!"
"There is no excuse for playing with someone's mind!" Batman shouted, enraged. "None! How is Voldemort different from anyone else? How can I choose between two equally misguided sides?"
"Misguided?" Snape snapped back. "Voldemort is evil incarnate!"
"Trust me, I know what evil is." Batman regained his equilibrium, his voice now even.
Snape remained silent for a long moment, before finally saying. "As do I. Bruce, our world…my world," he amended at Batman's glare. "is not a safe one. Magic should not be wielded by the foolish or the weak. But it is often held by the innocent. The Dark Lord is none of these things."
Batman did not respond. Snape would get to the point eventually.
And he did, pulling out a flyer from among his voluminous robes. “There is an exhibit, at the Gotham museum, on loan from the British museum. It contains a very dangerous magical artifact."
"You want me to steal it?" Batman could not keep the affront from his voice.
"I cannot be seen anywhere near it. It is the difference between death and immortality for the Dark Lord."
"And how do I know you're not actually working for him? I have no reason to trust you."
Snape let the flyer flutter to the ground. "There is a boy. Just a child really, but apparently you specialize in using children to fight your battles. You can go to him. He hates me even more than you."
Snape didn't have to say the name. Even Batman had heard of the Boy Who Lived. Something clicked into place and Batman couldn't help but smirk. "Have you ever stopped being a manipulative bastard?"
"What…" Snape was about to deny it.
"This isn't about the artifact. You want me to help Harry Potter."
He didn't deny it this time. "I cannot." Snape sighed. "I had apparently forgotten where I learned most of my tricks. Bruce, I plan to be very dead at the end of all this. Years of planning have been ruined. There is only one hope. And no matter what you say, I know you bloody well care about the fate of this world. Make no mistake, if left unchecked, the Dark Lord will rise, and there are none who can stand against him."
Even Superman was vulnerable to magic after all. Batman turned his back on Snape. "Leave the damn flyer." He said. He knew there would be information written on the back of it, most likely how to contact Harry Potter. And he knew Snape would be gone when he turned around.
He had gotten what he wanted, after all.
end
(1) This passage is taken entirely from the Wikipedia entry on the Full Moon. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Full_moon
Title: Bat and Snake
Author: Epeeblade
Rating: G-PG
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Severus Snape
Fandoms: Harry Potter and Batman (comicverse)
Category: AU, Drama, Action-Adventure, Crossover
Archive: Please ask me first
Email: Epeeblade _at_ gmail DOT com
Notes: It’s crack fic. I played hard and fast with the timelines. Thanks to lapillus for looking this over for me. All mistakes are my own. And thanks to Razor for dropping the bunny in my lap. Part of the Five Years of Epee challenge.
Spoilers: For all 6 of the Harry Potter books, references made to recent Batman issues, namely the Bruce Wayne: Murderer storyline, although you really don’t have to have read it to understand the fic.
Summary: What if Bruce Wayne went to Hogwarts?
Bat and Snake
By Epeeblade
Year One
He was conscious of how small he was, the crowds of people pressing in and he moved closer to Alfred. He was too old to hold Alfred’s hand, but young enough to want some sort of physical contact. Instead, he held onto the handle of the pushcart Alfred had gotten to carry his luggage. They paused just short of Platform 9. The instructions were explicit; Bruce would go on his own from this point on.
“Are you absolutely certain about this, Master Bruce?” There was something odd in Alfred’s voice.
“Mother went to Hogwarts,” Bruce answered, as if that explained everything. It had been a surprise, the letters that arrived on his eleventh birthday, when Alfred gravely informed Bruce his mother had been a witch. Bruce had had his choice of Wizarding schools, and he had decided on going abroad. It would look strange for the Wayne heir to attend one of the many Wizarding Charter schools set up around the country. It was easier to fool the press by attending one abroad and what better than in Alfred’s home country?
“You know if you should change your mind, I will be close at hand to fetch you home.”
Bruce looked up and tried to smile. “I know.”
Alfred was too much an Englishman to do more than pat his shoulder to send him off. “Write me as soon as you are able.”
Bruce stepped away and waved. He took a deep breath and started off at a run, pushing his cart into the pillar…
Which he went right through and onto platform 9 ¾.
He looked around and found himself now surrounded by children just like him, pushing their carts towards the great locomotive that waited for them. The Hogwarts Express. He quickly saw to his luggage and climbed aboard.
Every cabin seemed to be full. A few times he heard someone snicker “first year,” but he just pushed ahead. Finally he came to a cabin with just one boy in it. He was dressed in long black robes and was curled up against the window, staring out into the busy train station. His long black hair hung in a dark curtain, hiding his face.
Bruce felt conspicuous in his clothing, ‘muggle’ clothing he supposed he should call it. “Um, excuse me, could I share your cabin?”
The boy turned around and focused the blackest set of eyes upon him. He shrugged and looked back out. “Do what you like.”
Bruce slid inside, closing the door behind him. “I’m Bruce Wayne.”
The boy didn’t answer.
Bruce noticed he was clutching a wand in his hand. “Are you doing magic?”
“Haven’t you seen magic before?” the boy looked his way again.
“Just when I made sparks come out of my wand at Ollivander’s.”
“Are your parents muggles?” the boy’s voice raised and nearly squeaked on the last word.
“My mom was a witch,” Bruce said. Hmm, perhaps there was some shame in having muggle parents. He would have to observe this and make sure he didn’t say anything he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to stand out any more than he already did.
“If your dad wasn’t, then you’re a half-blood. Didn’t your mum explain all this?”
“My parents are dead,” Bruce said through gritted teeth. Odd, to find someone who didn’t know. Back home, everyone patted his head and murmured ‘poor Brucie.’
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here after all.
“Oh,” the boy said.
“You didn’t tell me your name.”
“Severus, Severus Snape.”
“Bruce Wayne,” he said again, holding his hand out. Snape hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Do you want to see some real magic?” Snape’s mouth curved up into a smirk and his eyes lit up.
“I sure would.”
Year Three
Bruce bit into the apple he had snagged from the great hall. He had curled himself onto the window ledge of the owlry, his book propped up on his lap. Instead of suffering through Divination, Dumbledore had approved his request for an advanced Muggle studies correspondence course. Bruce knew he was going back to Gotham when he finished here; he had a mission, a goal. Magic was going to help him tremendously, but he couldn’t stay out of touch with the real world.
“Are you hiding up here again?” the voice of his fellow Slytherin broke into his concentration.
Bruce looked up at Snape, framed in the doorway. His normally dark hair was a shocking pink. “Did you end up on the wrong side of a prank again?”
“What do you think?” Snape scowled.
Bruce pulled out his wand and threw a *finite* at Snape. His hair remained pink.
“I tried that.”
“Why don’t you just stay out of their way?”
“They won’t leave me alone!”
“Like you weren’t the one who put the spiders in Potter’s breakfast.”
“I would never be so pedestrian.” Snape sniffed. He busied himself petting one of the sleepy owls. It was the middle of the day after all.
Bruce turned back to his book. “I’m afraid you’ll have to resort to hair dye until it grows out.”
Snape snorted. “Only because they somehow made it resistant. Do you even pay attention in transfiguration?”
“Transfiguration is irrelevant,” Bruce turned the page. “Chemistry…that’s where it’s at.”
“Where what is at?” Snape leaned over to take a look at his book. “That looks like Arithmancy.”
“Of a sort. It’s actually more similar to Potions.”
“Why are you studying this? Muggle science is just a weak attempt to compensate for lack of magic.”
Bruce closed the book. He wasn’t going to explain anything to Snape. “I just like to know things.”
“You should have been sorted into Ravenclaw.”
Bruce smiled. “Maybe so.” He slid off of the window ledge. “Let me check on Ghost, then we’ll see about your hair.”
“You’re the only one with a bat as a familiar.”
Bruce lifted the cloth that covered Ghost’s cage. He grinned and rubbed her head. She shuddered, her wings opening before settling back into slumber. “It reminds me of home. It’s fine, she’s let out at night to hunt with the owls.”
“Bats make good potion ingredients.”
“You touch my bat, pink hair is the least of your worries.”
Snape barked a laugh.
Year Five
It was all over the common room by the time Bruce made it back to the dungeons. Stupid Gryffindors, he thought, ignoring the laughter and hushed voices as he made his way to the room he shared with three other Slytherins. One of them was Severus Snape.
Snape sat on his bed, a textbook on his lap. He scowled at Bruce when he walked it. That was probably how he was keeping the rest of their roommates out, but Bruce was glare proof. He dropped onto his own bed; pulling out the textbooks he was going to review that night.
He couldn't let it go though. "I hear you've run afoul of the Gryffindor Five."
"Oh good show, lead with the obvious, see what I give up. Stay out of it Wayne."
Bruce loosened his tie and looped it around the bedpost. "I'm just surprised to find you here instead of plotting vengeance."
Snape didn't say anything for a moment. He picked up his quill and made a notation in his textbook. Bruce figured he had taken the vengeance comment to heart. He'd sneak a peak at the book if he didn't think Snape would hex him into next week.
"Damn Jordan anyway." Snape finally burst out.
Ah. The crux of the problem. Snape and his adversaries had been going back and forth since first year. It was only this year, when Hal Jordan suddenly entered the equation that things had gotten nastier than usual. "He's a Brat, he'll be gone before next term."
Snape looked up from his book. "Brat?"
"Don't you pay any attention in Muggle Studies? I think it's an American thing actually. Military brat. His dad's in the United States Air Force and moves around from base to base. Right now he's stationed here, but there's no telling when he'll be reassigned and Jordan out of our lives."
"How do you know all this?"
"I pay attention." Bruce picked up one of his textbooks and thumbed through it. It was the newest one Alfred had sent as part of his "correspondence" course: "Psychology and the Criminal Mind."
"This is what you pick up from those Holmes books you keep trying to foist on me."
"You could learn a few things about subtly from Holmes." Bruce leaned on one elbow and looked over at Snape. "You should tell the headmaster if it's gotten worse."
Snape snorted and didn't dignify that with a response.
He had a point, Bruce conceded, but couldn't help but think there had to be another solution to this constant give and take.
Snape slid from the bed and pulled his cloak from his trunk.
"Where are you going?" Bruce asked.
"I managed to get something from my little encounter today. Jordan spilled where Lupin sneaks off to every month. Hidden passage under the Whomping Willow."
"I see you're well on the way to plotting vengeance." Bruce said.
Snape rolled his eyes.
"What is your obsession with Lupin anyway?" Snape could go on tears for hours, railing against his tormentors, but whenever the subject of Lupin came up, his ranting was different somehow.
"They're breaking rules, and I'm going to catch them in the act." Snape answered.
"You do that." Whatever his real motivations were, Snape was obviously not going to share them. "Just don't let LeStrange see you, his head is especially far up his ass this evening."
Snape barked a laugh and slipped out of the room. Bruce had no doubt he'd be able to slip out of the common room without anyone seeing. Sometime he had to figure out how Snape managed it, so he could imitate it.
Shaking thoughts of Snape from his mind, he went back to his textbook. He skimmed through a few chapters, reading along until:
Full Moons are traditionally associated with temporal insomnia,
insanity (hence the terms lunacy and lunatic) and various magical
phenomena such as lycanthropy. Psychologists, however, have found that
there is no strong evidence for effects on human behaviour around the
time of a full moon. (1)
Then why the increase in criminal activity? Bruce thought, or was that also a myth? He needed to do more research. He shuffled his notes around, and his pages from Astronomy fell out. Tonight was a full moon. His eyes lingered back over the textbook, "various magical phenomena such as lycanthropy." Remus Lupin disappeared once every month. Surely Snape couldn't be so stupid as to notice that fact and not think...
Bruce sat up and tossed his book to the side. He had to stop Snape.
***
Bruce ran across the green fields of Hogwarts grounds, clods of grass tossed up by his feet. The sun was long gone over the horizon and clouds just covered the rising moon. He held his wand at the ready and came to a stop before the Whomping Willow. The Whomping Willow that wasn’t currently Whomping anything at the moment.
Still, he remained on his guard, creeping closer in case the tree was trying to lure him into a false sense of security. However, it didn’t move, and once he got close enough he could see the opening between the massive roots of the tree. “Lumos!” he cast, lighting his way into the dark tunnel.
He slowed down, trying to get his bearings as he moved quickly through the tunnel. It opened up gradually, so he no longer had to hunch over to walk through it. His heart beat loudly in his chest, but he heard nothing else. The tunnel seemed to go on for a long while. Bruce counted the steps in his head, trying to keep a record of how far he had gone. He began to move faster, there was no time to lose.
Voices broke into his hearing.
“You fool. Get out of here!”
“What the hell are you…Potter…Merlin….”
That was Snape’s voice. Bruce ran forward, just in time to see James Potter dragging Snape away from a trap door cut into the earth.
“Snape!” He called.
“Wayne? You followed me?”
“I came to warn you! Lupin’s a …”
“Werewolf.” Snape rasped out.
Now Bruce could make out the growls and snarling against the wooden doorway.
“Move, get out of here.” Potter pushed Snape forward.
“I should have known you were up to no good! Hiding a werewolf!” Snape sputtered.
This wasn’t the time. Bruce opened his mouth to say so when he heard the splintering. The trap door was giving way.
“Run!” he screamed, before turning to do so himself.
They were almost halfway through the tunnel when they heard the crash behind them. The long claws of the werewolf made a sickening scraping sound against the stone floor. Bruce knew they wouldn’t make it. The tunnel only got narrower from here on out. They wouldn’t be able to outrun a werewolf half-bent over.
He stopped in his tracks.
Snape noticed. “Wayne, what are you doing? Werewolves are resistant to magic!”
“Keep going, trust me.” The tunnel was just the right width here, and still tall enough that he could brace his legs on either wall. Bruce shimmied himself up to the ceiling. With luck, the werewolf would run past him before he caught Bruce’s scent.
He just needed Potter and Snape to keep running.
The sounds of the werewolf’s claws grew louder. When he heard the labored breathing of the beast, Bruce knew it was close.
The werewolf ran past him, and then paused, as if confused. He probably scented Bruce from above. It was larger than any wolf Bruce had ever seen and covered with scraggly silver-gray fur. Pointed ears stood up on the back of its long head, as if reaching out for above. Before it could change its mind, Bruce dropped from the ceiling onto the creature’s back.
He had only a split second before the creature would reach around and snap at him. A second before he was either dead or turned himself. Bruce pushed forward with all his might, his hand darting out to hit the pressure point behind the wolf’s ear, just as sensei had taught him. The werewolf slumped to the floor, senseless.
Bruce stumbled off the creature, breathing heavily.
“Is he dead?” Potter’s voice. The idiots hadn’t gone far.
“No, unconscious. I don’t know how long, so we’d better get out of the tunnel and shut the damn door.”
They didn’t argue with him this time, simply followed him back through to Hogwart’s grounds. He watched as Potter closed the entrance to the tunnel and the Whomping Willow came alive again.
“How did you do that?” Snape asked under his breath. He had slumped to the ground, breathing in shallow gasps. Shock, Bruce thought.
What do you think I do over the summer holidays? He wanted to respond, but instead shook his head. “We’re going to see the headmaster.”
Snape didn’t argue.
***
Snape faced off against Dumbledore, his hands balled into fists at his side. Bruce could have told him that wouldn’t work. Dumbledore was the picture of calm, offering them both tea from a tray. Bruce took a cup and sat back in one of the large chairs in the headmaster’s office.
“They should all be expelled!”
“Severus, do sit down.” Dumbledore said calmly.
Snape pursed his thin lips together, but he sat, clenching his robes in his fingers like claws in the black fabric.
“I’m going to ask you to trust me, as someone much older than yourself and headmaster of this school for longer than you’ve been alive, to handle this situation as I see fit.”
“But Lupin’s a werewolf!”
“By circumstances beyond his control. I’m sure you understand, Mr. Snape, that sometimes one cannot choose the events that shape one’s life.”
Bruce looked from Snape’s face to Dumbledore’s. Snape still looked flushed and angry. Dumbledore never changed.
“We could have been killed.” He tried finally, but even Bruce could tell the anger had passed.
“And I will deal with the one who caused tonight’s events.” Now Dumbledore’s voice was cold, the closest Bruce had ever heard to anger in the old man.
Snape nodded, stiffly.
“Now go back to your rooms. It’s still dark enough that you both can get some sleep.” When Snape jumped up, Dumbledore put one hand on his shoulder and told him. “I’m certain I can impress upon you the importance of keeping tonight’s events secret. Yours is not the only life in the balance.”
Snape broke away, but he nodded again and made for the door.
Bruce stood, setting his cup of tea upon Dumbledore’s cluttered desk. He didn’t manage to get away without a hand pat himself.
“Mr. Wayne,” the headmaster said softly, soft enough so that Snape now outside the office would not hear. “Severus is fortunate to count you among his friends.”
“Snape doesn’t have friends.” Bruce answered. “What will happen to Jordan?” Because it was Hal Jordan who had caused all this.
“Trust me, Bruce, to do what is needed.”
Bruce imitated Snape and nodded.
He didn’t see Hal Jordan at Hogwarts again.
Year Six
Few students spent Friday nights in the Hogwarts Library. Bruce and Snape just happened to be two of them. They sat at one of the long tables near the stacks of shelving, books strewn across the wooden surface. NEWTS were not that far off, after all. And Bruce had his own extracurricular studies to keep up with as well.
He sat back from his textbook, eyes tearing. There apparently was such a thing as too much studying. Bruce looked over at Snape, who was scribbling furiously in his Potions textbook. He wondered what Snape spent so much time writing. There was nobody as good at Potions as Snape in all of Hogwarts.
Because he had shifted in his seat, he was at the perfect angle to see Remus Lupin approaching from across the room. He tried to wave him away, but the other young man was not to be deterred.
“Um, hello, Severus,” Lupin stammered.
“This is a library, Lupin, have some sense to not behave like a common animal and whisper,” Snape hissed, not looking up from his textbook.
Bruce winced mentally. But like a train wreck, he could not look away.
“I’m sorry,” Lupin whispered.
“No,” Snape retorted. “You’re not. Leave me alone.”
“Severus…”
“I’m certain you don’t want me to raise my voice. Perhaps someone might hear about a certain dark creature haunting the grounds…” Severus made another notation in his book.
Lupin pushed himself away from the desk. “Someday you’ll listen to me.”
“I highly doubt that.” Snape shot back, finally closing his textbook. He watched Lupin leave the library.
“You know,” Bruce leaned back, propping his legs on the chair across from his. “You might want to hear him out. If he feels indebted to you…”
“I can call in the favor later.” Snape turned his dark gaze onto Bruce.
Bruce straightened up in his seat. When Snape looked like that…”You’ve got it all planned out already.”
“You’re one to talk.” Snape retorted. “You know, I believe I need a book.”
“Oh?” Bruce shook his head at the change of subject.
“Yes, one in the deepest section of the stacks.” Snape narrowed his eyes.
Oh, Snape was in that kind of a mood. Bruce grinned. “Well then, I’ll just have to help you find it.” He rose from his seat, dropping his quill onto the table. Bruce backed away, giving Snape a look of his own. Snape followed with a groan and all but pushed him into one set of shelving.
They couldn’t spend all their time studying, he thought, as he dipped his head for a kiss.
Year Seven
The other seven-years were in the common room; someone had smuggled in a bottle of fire whiskey and they were determining who was going to get the next sip with some sadistic game that was part spin the bottle and part Chinese water torture. Bruce was up in his room, packing his trunk for the last time. He was taking special care with his books, dividing the magical ones from his muggle tomes.
The door to the room opened and Snape staggered in. Bruce suspected he had had more than his share of the fire whiskey.
“Wayne, what are you doing up here?” Snape leaned unsteadily against one of the columns of his bed.
“You’re speaking to me now?” He’d have to remember to collect Ghost before he left tomorrow. She was still in the owlry under the charm that made her look like another owl.
Snape moved to sit on the bed. “I never stopped speaking to you. You stopped speaking to me.”
Bruce didn’t mention the way Snape wouldn’t meet his eyes from the moment he stepped on the train after the summer hols. He didn’t mention how he hadn’t received a single owl from Snape all summer. He didn’t mention how Snape never spoke about sixth year. He also didn’t say he noticed Snape rubbing at his left forearm. Instead, he said, “We’ll be moving in different circles.”
“You don’t have to go back to the muggles,” Snape said.
Snape didn’t understand the mission, Bruce thought absently, thumbing through the last volume he had to pack. “And what would I do here? Join your little group of friends? They have no interest in a half-blood from the colonies.”
“You don’t understand them,” Snape said.
Bruce didn’t answer. He was done with his books. All he had left were his robes. And once he put those away, they’d be gone for good. There was no need for them when he arrived back in Gotham. He wasn’t planning on staying very long anyway.
Someone banged on the door. “Snape! It’s your turn!”
“Right!” he shouted back. Snape stood unsteadily and made his way to the door. “Sure you’re not coming?”
“Yes.” Bruce closed the lid of his trunk. “I’m sure.”
Epilogue
He knew the moment the Batmobile entered the cave that his wards had been breached, but his security systems had noticed nothing. Batman slid out of the car and crouched in a fighting stance. He kept his senses open, trying to feel where the attack would be coming from.
"How like you, to make a home with bats." A sly slithering voice echoed from the other end of the cave. It was much deeper than the last time he heard it, but there was no mistaking those sibilant tones.
"Snape," he bit out.
The figure emerged from the shadows. Severus Snape was now 20 years older, but still as slim and as hawk-nosed as ever. He glided down the steps to the cave, his long robes melting around him as he moved.
"Wayne."
Batman straightened from his fighting stance, but he didn't relax. With Snape, the battle wouldn't be physical. "How did you get in here?"
"You're out of practice. Your wards are terribly inadequate and your butler has a remarkably open mind." He must have caught Bruce's anger because he amended. "He's fine. He'll wake with a mild headache and nothing more."
Batman made a note to check on Alfred later, he put aside his worry for the moment. "What do you want?"
Snape continued to come closer. "My, my, is this what you did with you lessons from Hogwarts? I can feel the charms on your suit from here. A few 'look aways' and the always-good-for-a-laugh silencing spell. Not afraid of an unfair advantage, are you? I bet you even keep your wand at hand."
"Wands are nothing more but crutches. They can be broken."
"But you can't."
They stared each other down. Bruce took the time to notice what Snape wasn't saying: the dark rings under his eyes, his haggard features, and the drape of his clothing that indicated he had lost weight. "Not easy on the run, is it?"
Snape visibly started. Good.
"You don't think I don't know, do you?" Batman stalked past him, giving the appearance that he didn't care what Snape did or where he was. He punched a button on his computer and the screen came to life, plastering pictures of the Daily Prophet across the LCD. The issues all carried the headline that Severus Snape was a murderer.
Snape cleared his throat. "I seem to recall similar headlines not too long ago with your own face, claiming something similar."
Bruce stiffened.
"Sometimes things are not at all what they appear."
"What do you want, Severus?"
"Your help. You know about Voldemort?" Snape winced as he said the name. "He will not stop with Wizarding England."
"Do you remember Hal Jordan?" Batman asked, seeming to have nothing to do with Snape's statement.
"Of course I remember that pompous arse," Snape retorted. "I don't see what that has to do with…"
"Do you know what happened to him?" Batman interrupted. "Dumbledore obliviated him. Removed all knowledge of the wizarding world from his mind."
"A suitable punishment for plotting to murder me!"
"There is no excuse for playing with someone's mind!" Batman shouted, enraged. "None! How is Voldemort different from anyone else? How can I choose between two equally misguided sides?"
"Misguided?" Snape snapped back. "Voldemort is evil incarnate!"
"Trust me, I know what evil is." Batman regained his equilibrium, his voice now even.
Snape remained silent for a long moment, before finally saying. "As do I. Bruce, our world…my world," he amended at Batman's glare. "is not a safe one. Magic should not be wielded by the foolish or the weak. But it is often held by the innocent. The Dark Lord is none of these things."
Batman did not respond. Snape would get to the point eventually.
And he did, pulling out a flyer from among his voluminous robes. “There is an exhibit, at the Gotham museum, on loan from the British museum. It contains a very dangerous magical artifact."
"You want me to steal it?" Batman could not keep the affront from his voice.
"I cannot be seen anywhere near it. It is the difference between death and immortality for the Dark Lord."
"And how do I know you're not actually working for him? I have no reason to trust you."
Snape let the flyer flutter to the ground. "There is a boy. Just a child really, but apparently you specialize in using children to fight your battles. You can go to him. He hates me even more than you."
Snape didn't have to say the name. Even Batman had heard of the Boy Who Lived. Something clicked into place and Batman couldn't help but smirk. "Have you ever stopped being a manipulative bastard?"
"What…" Snape was about to deny it.
"This isn't about the artifact. You want me to help Harry Potter."
He didn't deny it this time. "I cannot." Snape sighed. "I had apparently forgotten where I learned most of my tricks. Bruce, I plan to be very dead at the end of all this. Years of planning have been ruined. There is only one hope. And no matter what you say, I know you bloody well care about the fate of this world. Make no mistake, if left unchecked, the Dark Lord will rise, and there are none who can stand against him."
Even Superman was vulnerable to magic after all. Batman turned his back on Snape. "Leave the damn flyer." He said. He knew there would be information written on the back of it, most likely how to contact Harry Potter. And he knew Snape would be gone when he turned around.
He had gotten what he wanted, after all.
end
(1) This passage is taken entirely from the Wikipedia entry on the Full Moon. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Full_moon