Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own…

This is in response to a challenge:

Challenge: ***Summary: So there was a story I read on here [sorry, I can't remember who it was by] that had Harry having Dissociative Identity Disorder, and I thought it was brilliant. Therefore...I want to make a challenge about it!

~Requirements~
Please actually research DID. There's nothing worse than reading a story with a mental illness in it that's completely wrong. I don't expect everything to be perfect, or anything, but showing you put *something* into it would be nice.

May not be set before first year. May be set anywhere between second-sixth years, and you may mess with canon any way you see fit. Voldemort may be dead already, or not dead, or anything you like.

Harry must have been placed with the Dursleys as a baby. The abuse/neglect must be worse than it is in the books. [After all, it caused him to dissociate.]

Harry must have more than two alters. You can decide what they're like, what they're named, etc.

Snape must find out at some point. He must find out FIRST. After that, anyone else may find out, but Snape is the first one who starts suspecting that something is wrong.

Please, no canon character death, unless it's of Voldemort and/or the other Death Eaters.

And yes, for the record, I did do research.

-AM

Severus Snape sat at the staff table staring at a raven-haired boy; this is not unusual for the potion's master. While it would normally be considered odd for a grown man to spend copious amounts of time staring at a child, Severus felt he had more than enough reasons to do so. He heard McGonagall call out "Ginerva Weasley," and rolled his eyes. Why bloody bother, he thought to himself, all Weasley's end up in Gryffindor! The boy whom he was studying clapped politely then stared at the table he sat behind.

Odd, thought Severus, the brat hasn't said a word all night. Dumbledore's speech fell upon deaf ears as Severus stayed focused on the boy. Trays of food appeared on every table. He scooped a small portion of everything onto his plate and watched as the boy did the same.

Their eyes met momentarily. A fierce glare flashed across the boy's eyes then a smirk appeared on his face. There's the brat I know, Severus silently commented.

The boy straightened his back and joined the conversation. Yet still something was off, though Severus was unsure what. That boy is like night and day, he mused, one moment he is calm and polite, the next he is unruly and disrespectful. Perhaps the boy is bipolar.

He heard Dumbledore dismiss the students and remained seated until the hall was cleared. He stood swiftly and walked to the Slytherin common room.

Harry shook his head and blinked his eyes. A prefect was trying to usher him upstairs, it took him a few minutes to realize that dinner had ended. Ah man, thought Harry, I slept through the sorting ceremony and dinner again! At least I'm not hungry this time.

He often fell asleep during meals and classes; he couldn't remember ever actually attending a potions class. From what he'd heard though, he was decent at potions and all the problems and detentions were not actually his fault. Ron and Hermonie had told him frequently over the past year that Professor Snape hated him with a passion but he doubted it since he'd never actually met the man- he felt it was wrong to blindly judge others.

Harry followed Ron and Neville up to their new dorm room and found the bed where his trunk was. He showered and changed into his pajamas, "Night guys," he muttered as he crawled into bed. He fell asleep quickly, then, two and a half hours later, his eyes jumped open.

He slinked out of bed with perfect posture and gracefully strolled to his trunk- he pulled out his potions book, parchment, and quills. Supplies in hand, he silently strolled out of Gryffindor tower and made his way to his favorite place- the potions classroom. As usual, the door was both warded and locked; he muttered a few spells and the large door swung open. He chose his favorite chair, the one behind Professor Snape's desk, and sat down.

Quill in hand, he unrolled the parchment and began writing an essay on the properties and uses of Wolfsbane. Snape had yet to give this assignment but he knew the professor eventually would. A sigh broke his concentration and he looked up.

Severus Snape stood in the doorway leaning against the frame. "What, may I ask, are you doing?" said the professor.

He stood from behind the man's desk. "I'm studying potions professor," the boy murmured.

"Do not lie to me Potter!" Severus said with a slightly raised voice.

"Don't call me that, please. And why do you have to make things so damn difficult? I spend all my time trying to get you to like me but you're too 'effing blind to see it!" he ended his tirade by slamming his fist onto the desk.

"Really…Harry,"

"Harold, I prefer Harold," he interrupted Severus.

Severus rolled his eyes, "Alright…Harold, do you really think the best way to get me to like you is to act like an ass?" Why the hell am I being nice to the boy, Severus thought to himself, right, I want to know the little bastard's secrets.

"Well," Harold began, "I look up to you, you know, kinda like a kid looks up to his father… we're very much alike you know. I want to be just like you when I grow up, brave and strong and smart." Harold yawned, "I should get to bed sir." He passed Severus on his way out the door and said, "Sleep well sir."

Severus was so stunned he could not bring himself to move. Bloody hell! The boy looks up to me like a father figure? Something is officially wrong with that boy! He rubbed his eyes then went back to bed.