Sorry for that cliffhanger, but thank you for all the wonderful reviews! :)

Enjoy Chapter 10.

About a Boy – Chapter 10

Severus Snape was not usually one to show signs of urgency, but at the moment, he was running after Hermione Granger. She led him across the castle as he followed closely behind, trying desperately to push down the panic that was threatening to appear full force. His mind whispered possible explanations into his ear, each one more dangerous and life-threatening than the last. By the time he actually found Harry, he was mentally reciting the ingredients of a Forgetfulness potion.

And oh, how he would have liked to forget the sight that awaited him at top of that flight of stairs. Harry was sprawled out on the marble, his pale, sweaty face pressed against the cold floor. His eyes were closed. The Potions' Master's heart stopped as he hurried forward and dropped harshly to his knees beside the all-too-still child.

Snape reached out a hand and felt desperately for a pulse, praying to every god he could think of that his son was still alive. Faint, but present. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

The hand slipped up to slide across Harry's cheek and forehead. His skin felt like fire against Snape's cool hands.

The Potions Master whipped out his wand and cast a diagnostic spell.

"Fluid in the lungs, high fever," Snape murmured. The spell finally revealed what he was praying wasn't the case. "Poison. Oh, Harry, no."

Hermione squeaked fearfully behind him, and the man spun around. "Miss Granger, run to the Hospital Wing and inform Madam Pomfrey that I will be arriving with Harry shortly. Hurry."

As she ran off in the direction of the Hospital Wing, Snape gently gathered the unconscious boy into his arms and followed briskly.

"Stay with me, Harry. Please, son," he murmured the entire way there, bursting through the tall double doors and placing the child gently on a bed. "Poppy!"

The Mediwitch burst into the room, Hermione close on her tail. Snape sent Hermione back to her dormitory with the promise that she could return in the morning as he watched Pomfrey cast the same diagnostic spells that he had. She moved frantically, opening the boy's lungs and spelling a fever reducer into his body. Only when Harry was stable did she turn to Snape, who was watching with an unreadable expression.

"Severus," she began, a small amount of fear leaking into voice. "It's poison."

"I know, Poppy. I need to draw a few drops of his blood to test, then I will begin brewing the antidote. Keep him stable."

He magically retrieved a few drops of Harry's blood and rushed down to his labs.

oOoOo

After several tests, the Potions Master held the results in his potions-stained fingers.

"Ricin," he mused. "What on earth?"

He knew it was a Muggle poison and that it typically killed within a few days. Harry would face organ failure and an entire body shutdown if Snape didn't find a way to brew an antidote. And that was going to be exceedingly difficult, considering the fact that it was not a magically-brewed poison and could not be separated into its various components.

He set to work, running to his personal library to retrieve a book that he knew held the answers. There was a potion that served as an antidote to plant poisons, and that was the closest he was going to get in the magical world. And as far as he knew, there was no cure for the poison in the Muggle world either. Only ways to make the victim's passing easier.

Snape took a deep breath and set the open book on the table, brushing the dust from it. With a wave of his wand, he summoned a cauldron and all the necessary ingredients and began brewing.

oOoOo

Madam Pomfrey set up wards around Harry's bed to alert her if there was a change in his vital signs and retreated to her office, pulling the door shut behind her. She let her wand fall to her desk and set her head in her hands, waiting for any news from Snape.

Within an hour, she heard the Floo sound in the main room and hurried out. The Potions Master stepped through and dusted himself off before holding up a vial and a small, wrinkled stone.

"It's a Muggle posion called ricin. I couldn't analyze the components and brew an antidote from that, so I brewed one that serves as an antidote to most plant poisons. Ricin falls under that category; it is derived from the castor oil plant," Snape informed her quickly.

"And the bezoar?"

"In case it doesn't work." His face was grim.

Pomfrey lowered her voice to a near whisper. "And time, Severus? How much time do we have?"

"A few days at best," he replied, and they both moved to Harry's bedside. "His body is going to begin shutting down."

She inhaled quickly to hide her fear, and turned to the unconscious child lying on the bed. "I assume the antidote needs to be swallowed?"

"You assume correctly." Snape handed the vial to the Mediwitch and propped Harry up in his arms, supporting the child's head in the crook of his elbow. Pomfrey tipped the vial into the boy's mouth and Snape massaged Harry's neck, gently coaxing him to swallow. He lowered the boy back down to the hospital bed and conjured a chair, sitting down. "And now, we wait."

oOoOo

The Potions Master was awakened from his slumber beside Harry's bed by the Mediwitch running out of her office and throwing open the curtains surrounding the bed.

"Severus, his fever has spiked. We need the bezoar before it is too late," Pomfrey gasped, waving her wand desperately over the boy. Snape dug his pale hand into the pocket of his robes and pulled out the small stone. Without further delay, he wrenched the boy's jaw open and shoved the bezoar down his son's throat. Harry convulsed once before falling limp against the bed once again.

Snape stood next to the bed, his fingers gripping the side tightly as he watched Pomfrey continue to work over Harry's unconscious body. She stepped back and looked the Potions Master in the eye, a tremor of trepidation visible in her hands as she clutched her wand.

"The antidote had no effect against the poison invading his body, but the bezoar did. He's recovering but – but Severus, he's fallen into a coma," the woman whispered, her voice barely audible even in the silent room.

The dark helped to disguise the stricken look on Snape's face as he released his grip on Harry's bed and collapsed back into his chair. "No. Merlin, no. Poppy, he's going to wake up, isn't he? Tell me the truth."

Pomfrey looked at him gravely. "He is healthy, Severus, and his magic is working hard to help him heal. Although it may take time, it is likely that he will wake up. Until then, all we can do is monitor him and make sure the poison is truly gone." She walked toward her office before stopping and turning to face the man in the chair. "And Severus, you did a good thing by taking in that boy." Although Snape opened his mouth to reply, she continued, "If he had been in the weakened state that he was when I first saw him last year, the chances of his survival would be much, much slimmer."

Snape put his head in his hands as he heard the Mediwitch draw the curtains around the bed and return to her office across the room.

What wizard would use a Muggle poison in the wizarding world?

Snape sat back as he took into the account the uncertainty and confusion regarding Harry's case.

Who would use Muggle poison? A wizard who wanted the job done right.

oOoOo

When Harry awoke, it was dark. He shook his head to rid his mind of his uncle's angry face – a product of his nightmares – and was alerted to a painful headache. Although his head was pounding viciously, he looked around carefully. Were those walls surrounding the bed he was in? Why couldn't he see a door?

A moment of panic seized him as his mind envisioned the Dursleys' cupboard. It was a train of thought that he had avoided for a long while, but suddenly his mind was sending him down it full speed once again.

He remembered feeling sick and telling Hermione to run to get his father and – Oh no. That was why he had been sent back. He had given away that the tall, stern professor was his father.

The tall, stern professor who was currently sleeping in a chair beside his bed.

Harry turned his gaze upon his sleeping father and his lips turned up a little at the corners. Of course he hadn't been sent back. He should have known better than to assume so quickly. Hadn't the man spent the last year trying to instill in his brain the fact that he was never, ever returning to his relatives?

"Dad?" Harry's raspy voice was barely above a whisper. His arms felt like lead as he reached one hand out to touch one of Snape's.

The Potions Master was upright in an instant. He blinked once, ran a hand through his hair, looked quickly around the room. His dark eyes rested on Harry's emerald ones.

"Harry?" the man gasped, rising from his chair. His hands grasped Harry's shoulders gently as he drew nearer. "Harry, you're awake. Thank Merlin."

"What – what happened? I mean, I was sick –"

"You weren't sick, Harry. You were poisoned. Why didn't you inform me that you were not feeling well? Then I would not have had Miss Granger rudely bursting into my office, nearly crying as she informed me that you had collapsed on the stairs. The heart attack I nearly suffered when I saw you – Regardless, your friends have been pestering poor Madam Pomfrey all week –"

"All week?" Harry cut in, his eyes widening.

"Yes, Harry. All week," Snape confirmed evenly. "You have been unconscious for almost six days."

The curtains flew open and the lights illuminated the room as Madam Pomfrey came bustling around the corner, wand already out.

Harry threw a hand over his eyes at the bright light that blinded him. "What –?"

"Severus Snape! How dare you not inform me that Harry had awoken! I thought you knew better than this!" the Mediwitch scolded indignantly as she cast diagnostic charms over Harry to ascertain his condition. She turned to the boy after a few moments. "You're doing very well, Harry. I want to keep you in the hospital wing for at least another day or so to monitor you, but if all goes well, you could be out causing trouble by tomorrow night." She gave him a kind smile.

"Or not," Snape intoned. "I, for one, do not wish to deal with mischievous, ill-behaved little rogues." He fixed Harry with a piercing stare, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. Harry grinned cheekily back at the man.

Madam Pomfrey left after making Snape promise to alert her if anything happened.

Once Snape had reseated himself, Harry returned to his inquiry. "So I was poisoned?" he prompted.

"Yes, and if you had simply sought me out, while we may not have been able to avoid the situation altogether, perhaps you would not have caused me quite so much worry," Snape replied, crossing his arms firmly across his thin chest. Harsh lines appeared on the man's countenance as his expression hardened. "I had to attempt to brew an antidote without knowing if it would even work against the poison racing through your system, without knowing if you were even going to make it through the night."

"You brewed the antidote?" Harry began excitedly. Snape opened his mouth to correct the boy, but was cut off. "That's so cool! Can you teach me how? How did you even know how to –"

"The antidote did not work, Harry," Snape interrupted coolly, "although I am sure that we will be able to find time to review antidotes for poisons at some point, perhaps over the winter holidays. The savior of your life was, in reality, this." He held a small, shriveled stone up for Harry's examination.

"A – a bezoar?" Harry questioned, propping himself up on one elbow to lean closer. His mind flashed back to a day just under a year ago, when he had stood in front of his father's desk, holding one in his thin hand. "Why didn't the antidote work?"

"An antidote is created by dividing a poison into each of its individual components and finding an ingredient that counteracts the poison in order to neutralize the harmful effect on an individual's body. It can be fairly simple or incredibly difficult, depending on the complexity of the poison. With blended poisons, the antidotes can call for dozens of ingredients in order to counter each poison," Snape explained quickly before continuing.

"The reason that I was unable to do this for you was because you were not affected by a brewed, magical potion consisting of several ingredients that could be simply counteracted by the addition of counterbalancing ingredients. You were affected by a Muggle poison commonly known as ricin. You likely ingested it at the Halloween feast last week.

"This poison is derived from the castor oil plant, and since I was unable to brew a specific antidote, I brewed a general antidote to most plant poisons instead. Unfortunately, the antidote had no effect on the poison invading your body, and we were forced to use a bezoar to neutralize the poison instead." Snape looked carefully at Harry's face as he finished.

"A Muggle poison?" Harry repeated blankly. "Do you know who did it?"

"I do not," Snape replied, "but do not think for one moment that I will rest until I find and exact my revenge on the fool who is attempting to take my son away from me." He reached out and held Harry's hand tightly.

oOoOo

That morning, Draco, Ron, and Hermione seated themselves around Harry's bed and received breakfast on a tray from the house elves. Snape had left the boy's side for the first time in several days to let him spend time with his friends.

"How are you feeling, mate?" Ron asked noisily around a mouthful of eggs.

"Better, definitely better," Harry replied, grinning. "It's hard not to when the last thing you remember is not being able to breathe and collapsing on the staircase." He shoveled a piece of sausage into his mouth. "Thank Merlin that you were there, right, 'Mione?"

Hermione smiled half-heartedly before leaning in close to Harry's ear. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to, Harry, but I know what you said that night when you were asking me to get help. And I want you to know that I'm glad you've found a father."

Harry shifted in surprise before smiling at her. "I-I think I need to tell you all something. It's not a big thing, really, but you're all my best friends, so you should know." He cleared his throat and looked at Draco for reassurance. "P-Professor Snape is – He's my dad. Well, not my real dad, but he adopted me. Either way, he's my father."

Hermione and Draco were unfazed, of course, seeing as Draco had known for a year and Hermione had managed to figure it out on her own thanks to Harry's little slip-up. Ron, on the other hand, looked as if he had swallowed something very sour. He dropped his fork onto his unfinished plate and looked at Harry in shock.

"You're joking, mate. That git is your father? But –" Ron mumbled in surprise.

"He's not a git, Ron," Harry protested crossly. "Because some people wouldn't approve and would possibly put me in danger in the future, he has to act like he hates me when we're in class and outside of the quarters and stuff. But you don't know him – not really. He cares about me, and he's the first person I've ever met who actually does that."

"But what about your relatives? Weren't you supposed to be living with them?"

Harry looked down at his hands and fidgeted nervously. "They – they didn't like me very much, and we didn't really get along. Professor Snape came and adopted me instead, and he takes better care of me than they ever did." He stopped abruptly before he spilled too much about his previous life.

Snape suddenly poked his head around the corner of the curtains. "Is everything alright in here?" His voice was stern but lacked its usual harshness.

"Yeah, Dad. Everything's good," Harry replied easily, and grinned at the shock that flittered across Snape's expression at the title. After a moment, the man gave a small smile and slipped away again.

Ron was doing an excellent impression of a dying fish, his mouth opening and closing silently as he gaped at the place where their feared professor's head had just been.

"Snape smiled at you. Snape smiled at you. Oh Merlin, I think the world is ending," Ron gasped.

Draco punched the redhead in the arm. "C'mon, Ron. He's not that bad."

"Maybe he's alright. Don't think for one second that this means I like him, though. I'll never get above a D in Potions because of that g – that man. Sorry, Harry." The youngest Weasley boy's freckles disappeared in a bright red blush.

Harry smiled at the three other first years surrounding his bed. He really had found the best friends he had ever hoped to have.

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