DISCLAIMER: Not mine! It's all J. K. Rowling's.

BETA READERS: GinnyW and Indigofeathers – thank you very much!

A/N: Chapter Twenty-six! Severus and Hermione work together, and Nathan finds a way to be heard.

Chapter 26: A New Perspective

Nathan had watched his mother come in, without really taking much notice of the man who had followed her. His mother had come, and although he had wanted to avoid this moment since he had realized how screwed up he was, now that she was there, Nathan felt only sad that he couldn't hug her tight.

She had cried quietly, and he had cried with her. She had let her hand slide over the forehead of his sleeping form, and he had tried to touch her back, comfort her, but only got immensely frustrated in the process, spilling angry tears. She had sat by the bed and stared at his body, and he had stood by her chair, watching sadly.

Remorse was eating his shiny little soul, and he'd tried in vain to perform the counter-curse for the umpteenth time, to no avail.

His mother had been so silent that she startled him when she suddenly stood up and kissed his fleshy forehead after smoothing back black hair.

"We'll find out what's wrong. Your father can be a lot of things, but he's a very intelligent man who knows a lot about curses. He'll help me find a cure, don't worry."

"I know, Mum."

"I'll go find some books," she continued to tell him in a soft, soothing voice, "but I'll be back to check on you later." She bent over to kiss him between the eyebrows and then his cheek. "Happy birthday, honey."

She wiped away a stubborn tear, and Nathan watched her leave with his saddened, translucent eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mum." The sorrowful energy couldn't be held back and it leaked down his face – tears of his own. He would never try a spell on himself again, and he would never want to know anything about the Dark Arts while he lived. It was a promise he would keep. He wanted so much to go back into his body. If only he could go back in time and never perform this stupid spell.

But time wasn't coming back. Instead, an infinite amount of time passed, or so it seemed for Nathan. Madam Pomfrey had come to check on him before and after lunch; nothing had changed. His mother hadn't come back yet, and neither had Professor Snape.

He didn't know why he had stayed with his body when his mother had left the Hospital Wing. Sitting down on the floor by the bed was melancholy. There was nothing he could do there, and there must be something he could do other than stare at the green wallpaper of the infirmary in misery. He would go mad from waiting for what he didn't think was coming.

He needed to leave the Hospital Wing, to test his limits. If he felt something different with the distance, he could always come back and remain near his body for the rest of this half-life. The possibility ached and he had to try; he had to leave – now.

So he did, and he decided to steer to the library, and there he went without feeling anything that would have stopped him. Searching the hall, he found the reason for his need to be there: his mother.

o0oOo0o

Hermione's head was a mess of screaming disorder, she was so stressed. She needed to calm down and be able to think a full thought. It'd been a while since she felt like this: worried sick.

What she needed was to focus. Nathan needed her. He was so pale that he could blend in with the ghosts. Never had she seen him so helpless, and that was making her helpless. He was not prepared; she had not prepared him for life in the wizarding world. She was failing her son.

Hermione had assumed he would be safe in the castle, that nothing more than the childish jinxes usually exchanged between Hogwarts' students would send him to the Hospital Wing and cause her to be summoned by the Headmistress. Voldemort was dead, his followers were dead or imprisoned; there had been no reason for worry!

Wrong, wrong and wrong, Hermione! She mocked herself angrily.

But he was supposed to be under surveillance – Severus was supposed to be watching over him. He'd even devised that troublesome necklace, for Christ's sake! Where was he when the son he said he was watching and protecting was being attacked by God knows who? Inside the castle, no less!

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to be calm and rational. She knew it wasn't Severus' fault; the blame rest mostly on her. Severus didn't know how to be a father, so she had no right in charging him on that.

Then why was she blaming him?

Because he was here and he should have known what was going on!

Hermione sighed. This line of thought wasn't getting her anywhere. What she needed was to clear her mind so that she could focus to find a cure for her baby.

Taking a deep breath, she went back to the book she'd been studying, clicking her Muggle pen to take notes of any information slightly important in helping Nathan. It was the fourth she was reading on the subject. Sleeping spells… why there were so many of them? This should not have happened….

He should have been watching over you, honey.

o0oOo0o

Nathan approached his mother, ignoring all the other occupants of the hall. She had her head bent over a huge, ancient-looking book, pen in hand, taking notes on whatever she was reading. He stopped next to her, trying to read what she was studying. It was about sleep disorders caused by magic.

Nathan sighed. "You should be studying Soul Magic, Mum!" A dread that she would never find out what was actually wrong with him came back heavy on his ethereal chest, leaving him slumped on a chair by her side. Hopelessness seemed to render him unable to move, unwilling to forego her silent company, so he remained there, trying his best not to think.

Once more, time refused to work backwards, and as it passed, Nathan grew bored of watching the movement of students in the library and of his mother's note-taking. The sheer force needed to keep his mind empty proved ineffective and a singular thought wouldn't leave him alone. She was wasting her time – their time – and he couldn't find a way of telling her that.

He tried to move the eraser resting on the table, but his not-so-solid fingers kept going through it without the least of disturbance. He stared at the offending object and was startled when his mother closed the book she'd been studying and started gathering her things. At least they were moving on from the fruitless search.

Nathan followed her into the halls of Hogwarts castle, not ready to let go of her quite yet.

o0oOo0o

She would not try to deny that the time she'd reached the end of the last book she'd selected suited her schedule well. The classes had been over for at least a quarter of hour, so she could head straight to the dungeons to discuss her findings with Severus. When she'd finally managed to keep her irrational irritation of him out of her way, she'd accomplished as much research on sleeping charms and spells as humanly possible for an afternoon.

The students, portraits and what else crossed her way to the core of the castle went almost unregistered. Eager to go through the implications of her findings and to soon prove any of them right, Hermione stopped only to open the door to Severus' office, without even remembering to knock.

"I've listed some curses–"

The man bent over books on the desk held a hand up, successfully interrupting her speech, but not her advance into the room. He finished reading and taking notes on a piece of parchment, and she was upon him by then. When he finally looked up, she thrust her carefully compiled list in front of him.

"These are the curses I've listed. I'm heading to the Hospital Wing to run some tests, but I wanted to check on you first. I thought you might have something to add or that you might want to be there to see the results. I didn't find specifics on possible side-effects the testing may cause, although I don't see why there would be any. Anyway..."

She made a pause for air after saying that all in one breath. When she was going to continue with explanations for her suspicions of each of the listed spells, she held her tongue, watching him go quickly through the list of curses and hexes, and even marking the paper in that horrid green ink as if it was another of his student's essays.

"I've tested him for most of them. It's none," he said curtly, going back to his note-taking. "You may test for the others I marked, but I don't think there will be any positive response."

You did what?

The annoyance that Hermione had diligently worked to abate was back as quickly as the blink of an eye.

"When have you tested him? Didn't you have classes all afternoon?" She wouldn't be able to hold herself back even if she wanted to, and right now, she didn't much care. "Have you even thought that I might have wanted to be there for any and every test?" She glared at him in anger, noting with increased belligerence that it didn't have any effect on the infuriating man. "Do you know how stupid you make me feel every time you make me discard a whole afternoon of work?" she accused, waving the now useless list in her hand. "We're both coming up with the same list of curses! If I knew someone else would be helping with the research, like you very well did, I would have the decency to let the person know what books I would be looking at first or would ask the person to join me in searching! We're in this together, for God's sake! We're both his parents!"

Her tone of voice had risen as the rant was spilt. Hermione's anger grew to a level she hadn't reached in a long time, and Severus didn't even have the decency to look at her while she spoke.

"Severus!" she called.

The most unbelievably exasperating of wizards continued to move his quill over the parchment as if there wasn't even anyone there, let alone screaming at him. She clenched her hands in fists, crumpling the edges of the paper she held and feeling like hitting him for such blatant disregard. She quickly bent over the desk that protected him and… and… grabbed the quill from his hand as a consolation prize.

"I'm talking to you!" she hissed.

"How very mature," was all he said, taking another quill from the holder on the desk and dipping it in dark green ink. "I'm trying to add as much detail as possible to the observations I made of each test, so if you can refrain from shrieking while I reminisce, that would be appreciated."

Oh, she would hit that large nose and make him take that right back, she was so angry! Only….

She needed to know what he had found out about what was addling their son as much as she needed air. Hermione felt for the strength that had been pushing her on since Severus had found her in the university, and it was not there. Weak and defeated, she let her body fall heavily on the uncomfortable chair just behind her, hiding her face in her hands.

God, I'm pathetic!

o0oOo0o

Nathan watched the scene unfold before him with apprehension. He was sure his mother would explode if she didn't do something to dissipate her anger quickly. Nathan had seen his mother angry on many occasions and knew she had reached the highest level he'd seen in his life. He would never push her past that stage of anger.

He looked at his father; the man acted as if he hadn't been interrupted, ignoring her completely. The disdain he showed for his mother's distress was starting to annoy Nathan more and more. His displeasure with Professor Snape increased when his mother fell heavily on a chair in front of the desk and held her head in hands, elbows on her knees. Nathan even reached a hand to touch her voluminous hair, but retreated upon remembering he was unable to comfort her by touch or any other means.

"Look what you did!" he told the man, even though he knew that he couldn't be heard. "Why do you have to be such a git all of the time?"

"Just… don't do that again," his mother said into her hands. Nathan continued to glare at Professor Snape.

As improbable as it might have seemed, those few, quiet words from his mother, after all the shouting, gained Professor Snape's attention. Nathan saw when he stopped scribbling and looked up, observing her intently. His expression was the one Nathan usually saw on those harsh features: dispassionately and infuriatingly blank. What made Nathan's disapproval of the man's attitude abate a little was how long he stared at his mother, as if he was contemplating something very serious and important about her. Professor Snape's dramatic sigh called to his mother's attention, making her look at him; their eyes met.

"What do you suggest, then? That I stop trying to find a cure because it interferes with your schedule?"

His mother reclined on the chair, waving a hand in the air. "Whatever," she said. "I just don't want to waste any more time in fruitless research. Just don't do that again."

"I'll find out what is wrong with Nathan."

The way his father said that, punctuated with his given name, made the remnants of Nathan's anger dissipate – his father was actually trying to help him. His mother was still holding Professor Snape's eyes, as if they could communicate more through that connection than with actual words. Whatever they conveyed to each other, they seemed to have reached an agreement of some sort. His mother closed her eyes and sighed.

"Tell me what you've learned from the tests?" she asked him.

"It's not a sleeping curse," his father told her.

The previous exchange – the shouting, the harsh words – all but forgotten, they started to talk about what information Professor Snape's tests had revealed. Nathan listened for a while, his hopes renewed after his father's statement, but soon his attention drifted elsewhere, lest his frustration at watching two brilliant adults struggling with other wrong theories take him over the edge of his thinly held-together sanity.

He inspected the jars leaning the shelves – some containing floating things he could recognize, others more challenging. Nathan was still listening to what his parents were discussing over at the desk, but he tried not to think about what he heard, preferring the distraction of the jars and their contents.

Despite the distraction, his mind would drift and try to find ways to end this torment. He tried to reverse the spell a dozen times more without success, before giving up again. If only he could tell the couple by the desk what had happened, where the right book could be found….

A scratch of wood on stone followed by his father's voice broke Nathan's concentration.

"I need to attend dinner in the Great Hall," the professor complained, then added in a growl, "Stupid rule-breakers."

"I'll move to the lab," his mother said in answer, standing up as well and gathering her things.

Nathan approached the desk to better listen to his parents.

"You should come with me." Professor Snape was scowling down at his mother, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I promise I won't play with your toys while you're gone," she assured him, adjusting the books and papers in her arms before looking up at him.

"You'll be less of a nuisance if you're fed."

That was an insult, right? Nathan could have sworn that it was, but his mother was looking at Professor Snape with that expression she held for when he did something she thought endearing; one that was almost always followed by a wet kiss on his cheek and some fondling of his hair. That gave Nathan pause. Would his mother try to kiss Professor Snape on the cheek? But then again, it wasn't unheard of that mothers would kiss fathers on the cheek; he'd seen his friend's mothers kiss their fathers on the cheek more than once….

"I'll order something from the kitchens, don't worry," she answered, trying to smile. The glow in her eyes was almost genuine, Nathan noticed. Professor Snape had insulted her and that made her happy? He would never understand adults.

Professor Snape's scowl deepened before he nodded and left the office without looking back. His mother and Nathan watched him leave. Nathan followed his mother with his eyes when she finally retreated to the lab. He thought for a second and decided that the Great Hall would be less boring than another hour or so watching his mother read.

He crossed through the door at a trot, eyes screwed shut, and followed his father's steps down the dungeon's dark corridors.

o0oOo0o

"Nathan is still sleeping, then?" asked Jose.

"Yes," Kevin confirmed to her and Anna, who had looked up when he approached the table with Andy.

Jose seemed sad with the news.

None of them were aware of their invisible companion while they talked about the happenings of the day. Nathan had met his friends on the way to the Great Hall and now listened with attention, standing right behind Kevin and Andy at the Gryffindor table.

"What do you think happened to him?" Jose asked. "Do they know?"

"I thought Professor Lupin would have found out by now, but after an afternoon questioning the whole House for nothing, I'm not so sure. There was a time I thought he wouldn't run out of questions," Anna confessed.

"He did, only he went back to the same ones over and over again," Andy said.

"So they still don't know…" concluded Jose.

"Maybe he thinks you're hiding something," Anna accused. "What were you doing last night after all?"

Andy was about to say something when Kevin elbowed him. "That's none of your business."

Andy rubbed at the side of his ribs, glaring at Kevin, before saying, "No, we're not hiding anything, Anna."

They were, as Nathan knew quite well; they were hiding the book – the very thing that would help his parents and Professor Lupin put things right again.

"You should hand the book to Professor Lupin," he told them, knowing they wouldn't hear him, but not caring.

"We don't know what happened, or we would have told Professor Lupin," Kevin added, and that Nathan knew to be the truth.

"Maybe Snape is behind this. He could have cursed Nathan," Anna conspired, careful not to be heard by anyone else. "If he was concerned, don't you think he would rather be with Nathan than show up for dinner? Wasn't he supposed to be worried?" she asked, diverting all eyes to the High Table. "Professor Lupin is absent."

"Poor Nathan…" Jose lamented.

"Professor Snape has nothing to do with this. Nathan wouldn't like to hear you saying that." Nathan was thankful to Andy for dislodging the accusation. The only one who could be blamed was himself.

No one commented on anything else, but Nathan wasn't mistaken by the doubt evident on the girls' expressions before they went back to their dinner. Kevin did the same; only his features didn't show the doubt Nathan saw on the girls' faces. Andy stared at their professor a little longer before resuming his dinner quietly.

Nathan felt suddenly very tired. The day seemed to have lasted as long as a week, and he could only imagine what a week of this would feel like. He sighed and closed his eyes, and when he opened them, it was to find a running boy on track to collide with him. Instinctively, he took a step closer to the table, reaching out for support, but finding nothing that would be solid to help him. He looked down and saw with wide eyes that his hand had gone through Andy's shoulder. He withdrew hurriedly.

Andy shuddered at the immaterial touch, or was it Nathan's imagination? "Was that a ghost?" the boy asked Kevin.

"No, it was Aston. He's already losing points for running." Kevin clicked his tongue.

Nathan reached out to touch again, now on purpose, and watched his friend shudder. Andy looked over his shoulder to where he stood. If his friend could feel that….

"I think it was a ghost," Andy insisted, confirming Nathan's suspicions that he'd felt something.

Kevin shrugged, but Nathan could only smile. Andy had felt his touch! Inadvertently, Nathan did it again and laughed when Andy shuddered and dropped the fork, looking from side to side, searching for the source of his distress.

"I'm right behind you," Nathan said, grinning, to what he got no answer.

Well, even if they could feel his presence, they couldn't hear him yet. But still! Nathan tried to touch Kevin the same way he did Andy, but that didn't seem to work.

"Hmm, interesting," he mused.

He touched Andy once more. This time his friend stood up quickly, turning around, ready to admonish who or whatever he thought was causing the chills.

Nathan laughed at him, but it was more out of happiness for his discovery than of his friend's predicament. He felt like hugging him. This was a huge development!

"Nick!" Andy said, and Nathan spun on his translucent heels to see what his friend was looking at. "I'm trying to have dinner here!"

"Excuse me?" Nearly-Headless Nick inquired.

Nathan smirked. Andy thought it was the ghost! He touched Andy's shoulder just to make a point. Andy shuddered, growling while the tremor ran through his spine.

"It's not funny!" his friend protested.

Nathan looked around. There were a few students staring. Maybe he could call the teachers' attention; maybe his father would notice and would understand what was happening to Andy; maybe they would find a way to communicate!

He used both hands to touch Andy this time, hoping it would cause a stronger reaction.

It did. Andy jumped forward.

"Stop it!" Andy glared at Nick. "I thought you ghosts weren't supposed to do that!"

The ghost approached and said, "There is no ghost distressing you, my boy. Maybe you should ask your sleeping friend there to stop playing tricks on you."

Nick glared at Nathan, whose eyes widened.

"You can see me!" he exclaimed.

"Of course I do. Now stop touching the awake," the ghost reprimanded.

"You can hear me as well!" Nathan's eyes couldn't go wider.

"Who are you talking to?" Andy asked.

"You won't be bothered again, my boy. You should enjoy the food while you still can." Nick's eyes strayed longingly to the food on Andy's plate, then the ghost floated away, muttering something about meatballs.

Nathan left his confused friends and practically ran after the ghost of Gryffindor House, screaming "Wait! Wait, Nick!"

After searching the first and second floors, Nathan was dispirited. Where were all the ghosts of this castle when he needed them? Now that he knew that they could see and talk to him, there were none around.

He found a few ghosts during his perambulations, but as soon as they spotted him, they fled. It was way past curfew when Nathan was strolling the dungeons and saw a shimmering glow from around the corner. He smiled when he noticed that the ghost didn't flee as he approached.

But as soon as he recognized who the ghost was, Nathan's smile slipped. Nathan stared at the figure floating only a few feet from him while he decided how to approach him. He can't hurt you. Don't be afraid. You're a Gryffindor, he mentally told himself.

"What?" asked the intimidating figure, startling Nathan, who didn't think that the ghost had seen him yet….

"I…" he started, lifting his head to adjust his attention as the tall ghost approached.

"You're not a Slytherin," the ghost surmised. "What do you want here?"

"I need your help, Baron, sir. I need you to speak with Professor Snape." Nathan's voice wasn't the firmest he'd ever used, but it came out steady enough.

"What business would a Gryffindor have with the Head of Slytherin House?" the suspicious ghost asked, narrowing his eyes.

Nathan didn't know how the Baron had found out he was a Gryffindor. This ghost was definitely creepy, and he wanted to keep the chat to a minimum. "I'm Professor Snape's son, Baron, sir," he answered without preamble. "I'm without my body and he can't hear or see me. I need his help to undo the spell that did this to me. Would you talk to him for me, sir?"

The silence that followed was the eeriest thing Nathan had ever experienced. His soul shuddered, defying his lack of body, when the bloodied ghost approached even more, as if he was trying to sense Nathan by smell.

"Follow me," the Baron said, drifting quickly through a wall.

Nathan hated it, but he followed him through, and many other objects he had to overpass before they were in the middle of his father's living room. It was darker than usual with only the dying flames of the hearth to illuminate it. He looked around, but his father was nowhere to be found.

"He's asleep," came in the hoarse whisper of the ghost drifting from a wall Nathan hadn't seen he'd crossed until then.

Nathan opened his mouth to ask him if there was any means to wake the professor, but the ghost was already floating away, leaving his father's quarters. Nathan could only stare at the spot on the wall the ghost had chosen to traverse.

"He knew I needed him," he said and thought he sounded desperate even to his own ethereal ears.

"Nathan?"

At the sound of another voice – that deep voice – calling his name, Nathan spun on his heels at a speed that would have made him sway if it wasn't for his lack of mass. There, before his gaping face, stood, as translucent as himself, the soul of his father.

How could that be? Nathan didn't know, and he wasn't in any condition to rationalize past the question.

"Thank Merlin it's you," his father's soul let out in a soft tone that Nathan had never heard from the man before.

Professor Snape was seeing and talking to him, and that was everything he'd longed for since this whole mess started. The relief of finally completing the quest that started when Nearly-Headless Nick had spoken to him was overwhelming, but it felt like nothing compared to the vibrating energy coming from his approaching father, who was crossing the room towards him, and it only intensified when Professor Snape took his small head into his large hands. The light emanating from eyes usually so black captured Nathan's full attention, and he let himself be thoroughly inspected.

"Where have you been?"

Nathan had barely registered the words, so quiet was the question.

"I…" he tried to answer, but it was hard to form anything coherent when surrounded by such strong feelings. Anxiety, relief, contentment, and something warm that he couldn't identify seemed to dance through him, and Nathan was almost certain that the emotions he was sensing weren't entirely his doing.

"You've got me worried," his father continued. "You can't simply leave your body and not go back like that, young man!"

Even the harsher tone of this last statement was nothing compared to Professor Snape's usual displays of displeasure. It was, though, enough for the overwhelming energy to dissipate a little, leaving Nathan with a feeling of loss he couldn't fully understand.

"I want to," he finally managed to answer. "I've tried," he added, "many, many times, sir." Nathan felt like crying, the ability of absorbing those waves of foreign feelings combined with his own being more than he could handle.

That must have showed on his shining face. One of the hands resting on his shoulders came to brush his fine hair in the soothing way he'd seen it doing to his body's head that morning when no one was looking.

"Explain yourself, Nathan."

He closed his eyes. "It's a spell," he started at his father's request. "I cast it on myself, and now I can't cast the counter-spell, and I'm locked outside of my body, but I want to go back, I just don't know how, and I've followed all the instructions, I did everything right, and it still won't work, and I don't know what else to do–"

"Shhh." His father broke into his rambling explanation, bringing Nathan's head to press against his torso. Nathan went silent like the tears he'd been spilling, reveling in such intense contact.

"You need to calm yourself if you want me to understand what you're saying."

Instinctively, Nathan went about the motions involved in taking deep breaths, and even if no air was needed, the act made the vibration of the flickering of the light they were made of quiet slightly. He felt protected, and that was all he needed to halt the flow of tears streaking his cheeks.

"You mentioned a spell."

Nathan nodded in agreement.

"What kind of spell?"

"A soul spell," he answered to the deep voice. He hadn't felt this small since he'd left pre-school for primary school.

His father released him, stepping back. "You shouldn't know any such spell. Where did you learn it?"

"In a book, sir."

"Of course."

"I'm sorry," Nathan apologized.

"I know you are."

Now that there was a distance between him and Professor Snape, the energetic field that had shaken his soul had lost force, and he could think past his emotions. Professor Snape had actually acknowledged his apology.

Nathan stared at the man settling on the couch and tried to filter the actions from the waves of emotions that had taken place from the moment he'd heard his name that night. It wasn't an easy exercise, and the silence in the dungeons at that ungodly hour became disturbing.

His father had greeted him with concern, and although he could remember one or two isolated occasions when he'd thought Professor Snape might have been worried about him, there was always a lingering doubt brought by the actions that would follow. Not today, though.

Today his father had been openly concerned, going to the extent of voicing it.

Nathan continued to stare at the soul of his father while he let himself be transported back into the moment he'd been held, dare he think kindly, by those shiny arms, engulfed in warmth not completely, or at all, physical.

His father had hugged him, actually hugged him.

"You were hugging me." It finally became words.

The eyes that hadn't left him all the while he'd been staring danced, giving Nathan all the answer he would get, and he felt hugged again.

"Come over here," his father beckoned, and Nathan obeyed, hypnotized by that new-found light that insisted on bestowing warmth from otherwise cold, black eyes. "You've had a trying day." That and a nod to his right completed the invitation to join him on the couch.

Nathan sat down and then frowned. "Who are you?"

His father arched an eyebrow at his question. "Was that a soul spell or a memory charm?"

"You hugged me."

"You were distressed."

"And you hugged me."

Professor Snape rolled his eyes and, with that, dismissed the matter.

"Tell me about the spell," he prompted.

Nathan put his confusion aside in favor of explaining the spell he'd cast on himself. In recounting his actions the night before, he realized how simple the spell had been, and yet it turned out a complication of such astronomic proportions….

"Where is this book?" his father wanted to know afterwards.

"It's in Kevin's trunk."

"Tell me about the counter-spell again."

What? Won't he leave right away to punish my friends for such grave disregard of the school rules? Won't he even mention it, deduct House Point or… or… whatever?

When Nathan had decided to tell the professor where the book was, he'd braced himself for the worst. What he got was even far more than what he'd classify as the best. This was plain weird. It was as if Professor Snape didn't mind that a Restricted Section book was hidden in a trunk inside Gryffindor Tower. Nathan's rising suspicions couldn't be silenced any longer.

"You're not Professor Snape." He was on his feet to make that accusation. He took the magical imprint of his wand in hand.

"Professor Snape, Nathan?"

His name and the tone in which it was voiced made him actually point the wand at that stranger.

The man looked from the wand to his face and… smiled.

"Always prepared." He nodded appreciatively. "That's my boy."

"I'm not!" Nathan said, and energy accumulated on the tip of his wand, shining dangerously at the man, who opened his arms and hands beside his head to show he wouldn't fight Nathan's magic. "I don't know who you are, but you're not Professor Snape," he added, more controlled.

"I'm Severus, your father."

"You can't be! He wouldn't act like this, talk to me like that. He wouldn't know how to leave his body and be–"

"Here in spirit with you?" the man completed before he could. "You retained your consciousness, I see…. Come over here," the man beckoned.

Nathan didn't budge, nor lowered his wand.

"Fine." His father seemed to sadden with that short acknowledgement. "When the body rests during the sleep, the soul is free to rest as well," he started to explain.

That wasn't enough for Nathan, who stared sternly at the man until he continued, "We're free to be who we would be if we weren't under our brains' wrath all the time." Their eyes met by the man's insistence. "I'm free to simply be Severus, your father."

Nathan didn't realize he'd lowered his wand while his mind worked to understand what he was being told. Confused, he asked, "Are we dreaming?"

The man smiled with a sincerity Nathan had never seen from him before.

"Come sit with me," he invited.

Nathan walked slowly to the couch and, frowning, sat by the soul claiming to be his father's.

"Part of what is going on here is registering on the subconscious part of my brain, so yes, this will register as a dream," the man explained further.

Nathan looked sideways to the figure of his father when a mix of feelings hit him at once. "This is all a dream, then?"

"Oh, I assure you, this is very real. Apparently, you'll remember it all when you get back into your body, since you retained your consciousness. I, on the other hand, will manage to remember only glimpses of what we're living now, outside the confines of the flesh, if anything."

The sadness Nathan felt wasn't entirely his own. He looked up and met his father's downcast eyes. Used to finding there expressionless features, it was fascinating to see – and feel – all those emotions coming from the always heavily guarded wizard, and Nathan was readily reminded of that morning in the Hospital Wing, when he felt sorry for not being able to feel his father's caresses on his face and hand. As if he'd spoken that aloud, fingers touched his face, brushing his hair back.

With both hands resting on Nathan's shoulders, Severus said, "I'm sorry, my boy."

For what his father was apologizing, it wasn't clear. Nathan let himself be absorbed by the engulfing emotions and felt his shoulders being squeezed affectionately before he was released.

"We need to reverse the spell. You said the book from which you learned it is with one of your friends. Who was that, again?"

"Kevin," he answered. "The Anima Codex is in Kevin's trunk."

"I probably won't remember much of this conversation when my body wakes up." Nathan tried to interrupt and say that he could ask the ghosts to help them communicate, but his father raised a hand and continued urgently, "This is important, Nathan, please listen. My body is coming to awareness at this very moment. It will take a few minutes until it awakes fully. It's important that I remember at least where to look for the book, and here is what I need you to do." He stood from the couch. "Follow me," he commanded and left through a closed door.

Nathan crossed the door that now he knew led to his father's bedroom. He looked around; he'd never before thought about what Professor Snape's bedroom looked like, and even so, he was surprised. The bed dominated the room, and the light colors of the hangings – a moss sort of green – were something Nathan wasn't expecting from the always black-clad man. There was a soft-looking rug in a dirty sort of cream color on one side of the bed, where he found the soul of the owner of this room standing. He seemed amused, but it lasted only for a short while.

"You'll have time to look around later, now I need you to come over here."

Nathan obeyed. He approached the bed and only then took his attention from the soul to its usual bearer. The body of his father rested peacefully under a voluminous comforter, his lips were slightly open and his nose was even more prominent from this angle.

"I need to get back inside," the soul told him. "Do as I say. Talk to my body about where to find the book. Repeat it until I'm awake and maybe I'll remember. Do you understand?"

"It's not–"

"Start now, Nathan."

Nathan was put out by the interruption, but did as he was told and started telling his father where the book was. "The book is in Kevin's trunk."

"Say it as an order, Nathan." His father's soul was positioning itself over the bed. "Tell me to look for the book with Kevin."

He watched with fascination as his father's soul adjusted its lower half against the body lying there on the bed. "Ask Kevin for the book," he said.

"Go on," the soul instructed.

"Ask Kevin for the book," he repeated, then again and again. The soul lay over the body, disappearing completely, and Nathan came closer to the man and continued to chant, "Ask Kevin for the book. Ask Kevin for the book."

A pair of black eyes snapped open so suddenly that Nathan's breath caught in his throat in a swallowed gasp. His father looked directly at him, and for a moment, Nathan thought he could see him. This assumption soon proved wrong when his father blinked and stared at the light green hangings above him. The man took a deep breath and moved, dislodging the comforter. Nathan took a step back when his father sat on the bed, stretching his neck. When he stood, he was the strictly rigid Professor Snape that Nathan could recognize even when wearing a nightgown.

Nathan missed his father's freed soul already.

A/N: And so Nathan meets the real Severus Snape. I hope you've enjoyed it. :0)

If you have a minute to spare, you might want to go vote for GinnyW on this round of the Quill to Parchment awards in the category of Best Beta. It would make me really happy if she won this prize of recognition; she's simply an amazing beta-reader. And if you have it in your heart, you might feel like voting for me on the category of Best Author (I know!). You can vote until midnight (April 21st) at their website: awards(dot)quilltoparchment(dot)com

Thank you!

Coming next… The book is found and they work on the counter-curse.