As Snape's senses began to return the first thing he noticed was the incredible pressure bearing down on what seemed like his face, an unrelenting godly weight. A split second later Snape's sense of smell is assaulted by what could only be described as the strongest, foulest stench he had ever encountered but this time something was different, not only did it feel like a sense of smell but it was an assault from every direction, external and internal, an overwhelming presence that felt like it was embedded into his own very existence as well as the pressure from above. The sense of smell was quickly followed by a sense of taste, the same foul odor was snow a salty horrid taste, inescapable and sickening, assaulting his senses from every direction with a previously unknown intensity.
It was at this point that his vision began to return, not a normal vision however but a dual channel panoramic vision and much to his horror he was able to figure out why he felt so different.
The first channel was very dark, light was very scare and what could be made out was a gigantic white cotton behemoth stained brown by an unknown substance on the underside, the compression oozing out the foul smelling and tasting liquid.
The second channel was a well lit room, soon to be recognized as the Potion's Classroom, a dim dungeon illuminated via self fueled, magical orbs suspended in mid air. The difference however, apart from the hypnotic bobbing was everything was giant! Towering young witches and wizards stomping around the classroom, discussing what had happened to their professor.
Snape had realized now what he was, he had been transfigured into a Sneaker, a sneaker that belonged to one of his male pupils, but who? The face of the giant wizard was obstructed by the desk, a question he soon realized the answer too. On the bottom of what he now knew to be a giant sock, a gigantic golden inscription revealed everything, H.P..... Harry Potter. He had become the sneaker of the boy who lived, a sworn enemy that he had sworn to protect.
What he also realized was the gargantuan pressure that he felt was Harry resting his heavy foot on the ground, bobbing it occasionally. He knew that his worthless existence was going to get alot worse when the full weight of the young god was passed through his flimsy body and that as an object belonging to a wizard he would never get respite. He would be changed into any pair the man wore as well as many other things, whatever the Wizard deemed fit.
Harry's POV...
Not long after his most hated teacher disappeared Harry noticed that his near new, tailor made shoes had finally engulfed there deatheaters soul. The end of the breaking in period. He knew these shoes had been made so that a lower life would have to worship his feet forever and they had finally chosen their victim. A detail he was not interested in knowing. They felt good, the massaging insole and their being absorbing and eating the sweat and grime from his feet. It was like heaven!!! that was all that was important.
But now he thinks he must help investigate the disappearance of their professor.
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