Author's note
Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy. Your reviews are welcome and cherished, always ;)
CHAPTER 4
LIGHT IN THE DARK
Violently rolling back the excessively long letter, Snape throws a handful of Floo powder into his fireplace and dictates:
"Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London."
The moment he storms out of the fire, his rant immediately begins:
"Last time I checked, you are no longer a Hogwarts student, Mr Potter. You are now attending the Academy of Healing Arts, where, if I may add, you have your own professors. Why in the good name of Merlin would you..."
"We are helpless, sir...," Potter interrupts, his voice so quiet that even the Snape rant has to cool down. He tries hard to hold back a drop of tears, and fails at that. "The Healers of St Mungo are helpless. So are the professors at the Academy."
"And what makes you think I can do anything about a case that challenges both St Mungo's Healers and your professors?," Snape spits out.
Emerald eyes rise to meet Snape's; the young man's tearful voice tears into the deepest corner of his mind:
"They don't understand the Dark Arts, sir."
All what Snape wants to do for all he cares is to throw the roll of parchment at the brat's face and leave. Yet, after a long silence, he sighs heavily:
"To my house."
Hours later, in the basement laboratory of Snape's house, the Potions professor and the Healer apprentice hold their breath as the former raises a flask to check in the light of the candles. Potter's eyes brighten as they both realize the potion has turned out the way they need it to turn out.
"Don't say a word about me when you bring that to the hospital," Snape says while Potter is gathering his notes and the potion samples.
"I won't, sir... But I think all St. Mungo Healers and my professors do know you anyway..."
"Don't. Mention. A. Word. About. Me," Snape hisses.
"Er... well, yes, sir."
"Have you had dinner?," Snape switches topic.
"No, sir..."
"And do you have it ready at home?"
Potter scratches the back of his head. Snape sighs. The idiot still stubbornly refuses to own a house elf and lives like a random lower middle class young wizard despite being the Heir of both the Potter and the Black lines.
"To the living room, and wait there for a moment."
Snape floos back to his quarters at Hogwarts, orders a quick combination of dinner and supper and less than five minutes later delivers it to the hungry brat in his house's living room.
"Eat, and then see yourself off. I have to get back to school."
"Thank you, sir," Potter beams with his last drops of energy.
Half a step into the fireplace, Snape says over his shoulder:
"Next time only owl me a brief explanation. I will give you time and date to see me here."
Without further delay, he disappears in the dancing flames.