A New Place To Stay

Chapter 50

Nightmares And Lessons


"You betrayed me Severus," hissed Voldemort.

The image of Severus stood proud and tall, never once wavering, showing no fear to the monster before him.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort snarled, his wand spitting the green light that would end Severus' life.

"NO!" Harry screamed, his body lifting from the bed, unconsciously still grabbing for the wizard he loved as a father. Trembling and breathing heavily, he shivered with cold; he was soaked with sweat. Swallowing thickly, he lay back down, calming his breathing. This wasn't the first nightmare he'd had of such a thing happening. In fact, they were becoming more and more regular. At least they were just normal nightmares, since his Occlumency shields were fully functional. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he grabbed his wand and used a spell to find out the time. It was six a.m., still far too early for anyone to get up.

He couldn't stay in this bed; it was soaked with his sweat. Swinging his legs from the bed, he put his feet into his red slippers. Quietly he made his way to his trunk and removed his clothes and toiletries; since he wasn't going to get back to sleep, he might as well shower. That would mean he wouldn't have to wait until everyone else was done, the only problem with sharing a tower with lots of his classmates.

Closing the dorm door behind him, he made for the shower stalls, putting his clothes on the bench in the middle. There were no classes today; it was Sunday, and for that he was extremely grateful. Stepping in, he closed the curtain and put the shower on. It was already warm, unlike the Muggle showers that were cold for a few seconds until they heated up. His toiletry bag he placed on the shelf, ready to use when he wanted to. His nonverbal spell-casting was coming along really well. The only real downside to his week was the fact that Stan Shunpike had been arrested. Harry grabbed his shampoo as he thought about it, scrubbing his long black locks. There was no way the boy was a Death Eater; was this how they were going to operate? Arrest innocent people? Sometimes he wondered why he wanted to be part of the magical world. There was just no redeeming some people, but he loved magic too much to walk away from it.

The Quidditch tryouts were scheduled for today, and he was almost tempted to try out. Although he didn't want to give them the satisfaction, he so badly wanted to show off his new broom. Harry truly was more like his mother than he liked, cutting his own nose off to spite his face. Yet there was only so much someone could take before he snapped. With someone who cared in his life, Harry was less scared about what people thought. Having someone caring was a godsend, and he was grateful to Dumbledore for one thing. In trying to make him more miserable, he'd given him the one thing he wanted most: a family.

He had "detention" today with Severus; nobody seemed to realize anything was going on. They were still under the assumption that he and Severus hated each other... which he supposed was kind of the point. He'd never do anything to make Severus' position as a spy any more precarious than it already was. He had another "lesson" with Dumbledore in a few days. He wasn't looking forward to it at all. He hated spending time with him now; a few years ago he'd have forgiven anything just for some attention from him. He seemed to really care, but Harry had been such a fool to think so. Dumbledore expected him to die; he knew Harry was a Horcrux and was doing nothing about it. Yet Severus was working all the time, trying to come up with a potion to remove it. Dumbledore was as far from caring as someone could get, in Harry's opinion.

"Harry?" Neville called as he came into the shower room.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"Thought it was you; no run today?" he commented as he put on his own shower and got ready for the day.

"Nope." Harry didn't really need to run every day, he was about as fit as he was ever going to get. He was still running during the week, Neville joining him more often than not if he was awake.

"Are we going to the ROR today?" Neville asked.

"Only for a while; I have detention with Snape," Harry said, sighing in exasperation. He couldn't quite be bothered to layer on his supposed hatred for Snape.

Neville laughed weakly. "You shouldn't have spoken back to him!" He still thought Harry was nuts for that.

"It was still funny, though," Harry said smugly.

Neville said nothing in turn. Truth be told, he was still insanely terrified of Professor Snape. The man had intimidated him ever since he'd stepped foot in Hogwarts; after growing up with his Gran, you'd think he'd be used to it. He wasn't; in fact he felt that Snape was worse than his grandmother. It didn't help that he couldn't brew to save himself. Herbs he knew, but potion ingredients had just never been his long suit. Snape didn't teach Potions anymore, but unfortunately he was no better with casting spells with Snape around than he was brewing. With Harry's help, though, he seemed to be getting much better. He'd succeeded in being second at casting the Patronus Charm.

Harry just smiled and shook his head, reaching for the towel that was hung on a hook just outside the shower stall. The house-elves always kept them fully stocked, and yet were never seen doing so. Turning the shower off with his other hand, he dried himself before stepping out and getting dressed.

"WHOA!" Neville breathed, staring at Harry wide-eyed, gaping at him.

Harry spun around, hastily getting his t-shirt and jumper on, once again covering the basilisk. Nobody else had seen it so far; he arched an eyebrow waiting for Neville to get himself back to normal.

"Finished?" he asked sarcastically.

"B-b-but where did you get a tattoo? You need to be seventeen!" Neville protested, still frankly astonished. You had to be of age to get magical tattoos; there was no option of having a parent consent for you. It was the same with getting your ears pierced― with anything involving blood.

"There's a spell that lets you do it," Harry said, hoping Neville didn't go digging and find out that his tattoo was actually his familiar... and a basilisk to boot.

"Really? I've never seen one," Neville said, eying Harry speculatively.

"Yup." Harry wasn't sure whether Neville believed him or not, but there was nothing to be done about it right now. He did feel a little bit guilty for lying; unfortunately, lying was all too familiar to him now. Not just to keep Severus safe, but himself too; there weren't many people who knew how he was treated at home. "Come on then; I'm starving," he added after yawning.

"I wonder who they arrested today?" muttered Neville bitterly; he and Harry had gotten into a heated discussion about it. Both of them were disgusted by how the Ministry was handling the situation. Arresting innocent people wasn't going to make everything go away. What could they do, though? They were just sixteen years old, nobody would listen to them. Neville so badly wanted to be involved, to prove himself; it was why he was training with Harry. He knew spells above sixth-year, something he shouldn't, but he couldn't care less. He trusted Harry more than anyone else. He would have Harry's back, and Harry would have his. There was no other person he'd follow to the pits of hell. At least Harry didn't laugh at him, or ridicule him when he made mistakes.

"Maybe they'll have the sense to keep quiet about it," Harry snorted derisively.

"I doubt it," Neville said, feeling the same about the Ministry as Harry did.

They were at war, and they were arresting innocent people― how much worse could it get?

The Great Hall was mostly empty, since nobody wanted to get out of bed too early. There were just a few older students, mostly Ravenclaws, eating breakfast with a book propped open in front of them. Sitting down in their usual spot, they ignored the teachers' inquisitive looks; they always did stare at him these days. Whether it was because of his work, or because he wasn't with Hermione and Ron and because he was up so early, they assumed he was up to something. Dumbledore's stare was the worst of them, staring proudly and grandfatherly at him.

"Nothing in the newspaper today," Neville commented as he chewed on some bacon thoughtfully.

"I don't know why we read it; it's just a lot of crap, and filled with information to manipulate us," Harry said, shaking his head as he ate some toast, scooping up some scrambled eggs and feeling very peckish still.

"Mmm," Neville made a noncommittal noise as he continued to read The Prophet.

Harry just smirked and shook his head.

"Want to read it?" Neville asked, holding out the paper.

"Nah, let's go," Harry said, seeing Hermione coming in; as an afterthought he grabbed an orange from the table. She was more insufferable lately; Harry blinked at his own thoughts… had he just thought of her as insufferable? Oh Merlin, he was becoming more and more like Severus as the days went by.

"You can't avoid her forever, you know," Neville said, chortling as they both left.

"Want to bet?" Harry said wryly, "She bloody tried to steal my potions book!" His voice was indignant at the end.

"Yeah, that was stupid," Neville agreed as they ran up the stairs, making their way to the Room of Requirement. Neville knew about the amended instructions written inside of it; it was just too bad he hadn't continued with Potions. He'd followed the instructions and actually succeeded in brewing the potion correctly... a little off-coloured, but still what it was supposed to be. Whoever wrote it was better than Snape ever was! Unfortunately, he couldn't change classes now. Slughorn hadn't bothered him since the train ride, but Harry wasn't as lucky. Slughorn kept trying to be overly friendly with him. Harry wasn't having any of it, though, keeping it strictly teacher and student. It was like Lockhart all over again, Harry told him, shuddering. Neville just told him it was too bad he couldn't Obliviate Slughorn, too.

"I swear I could have cursed her for that," Harry said. Considering the spells he knew, it wouldn't be a good thing.

"Yeah, I saw," Neville remarked. Harry had actually picked up his wand, ready to curse her. Oddly enough, his arm had gone straight to his calf first, not his wrist. He wasn't sure, but he suspected Harry had a second wand. It saddened him that Harry didn't trust him completely, especially after finding out he had a tattoo! Of a snake! On his arm! A huge one! It had been awesome and looked so real. He doubted the others would understand; they'd just moan because it was a snake. Harry was a Parselmouth, though, so it made sense he would like them.

Harry stalked back and forth, wanting, no, needing the training room. One, two, three, then the door materialized in front of them. Neville had figured out how to work the room; he was pretty much an expert at it. Walking in, they found it as they normally had it, training dummies spread out in a row, with a platform if they wanted to duel one-on-one; the dummies were good, but not perfect― after all, people moved; dummies did not. Luna sometimes joined them.

"All right. We should start with nonverbal spells; you seem to have some trouble with that," said Harry as he took his wand from its holster.

"It's hard!" Neville protested.

"Yeah, to begin with it is, but once you know a few spells, they come dead easy," Harry said, trying to encourage his friend. He willed the room to add a feather, deciding to begin with a first-year spell. "All right, Nev, face the table and levitate it."

"That's a first-year spell," Neville groaned, suddenly having a flashback to his first Charms class—although thankfully the attention hadn't been on him that day; he hadn't made his feather explode, and then Hermione had levitated hers. It had taken him weeks to get it right; he was probably the third last person to get it. The last two had been two Slytherin boys, Crabbe and Goyle, who were only taking two classes this year from what he'd heard.

Harry smirked, unable to help himself, "Told you, it gets easier once you've tried a few spells."

"Oh, all right," Neville grumbled. Narrowing his eyes on the feather, wand raised, inwardly he chanted the spell he wanted: "Wingardium Leviosa." He knew he could do it; he'd produced a fully fledged Patronus, for Merlin's sake. His thoughts infused his confidence further, and the feather began floating smugly through the air.

"See? Now try another one," Harry said, watching Neville with pride. This was his doing; it felt good, being able to teach someone something. Much better than it would, being an Auror, but not as good as being a healer. He shook off his thoughts; there was no point in them until the war was over.

"Hmm, which one?" Neville murmured, before thinking of the disarming spell. The beam of light blasted out the wand and hit the table, blasting it to pieces.

"You're getting the hang of it," Harry nodded in approval.

"Why didn't Snape do that?" Neville asked, feeling aggrieved.

"It's not his job to teach you spells you already know," Harry said without thinking it through.

"True," Neville acknowledged. "Can we try the shield charm now?"

"Go on then." said Harry removing his wand; he would be testing the effectiveness of Neville's spell.


Severus Snape stalked down the corridor, with a single aim in mind: to find out what Draco Malfoy had planned. He could barely believe the Dark Lord had marked him― he was only sixteen years old and not even out of Hogwarts. He'd been watching him very closely, and when Draco thought nobody was looking, a look of weariness spread across his face. Whatever the Dark Lord wanted him to do was obviously stressing him to the max. He had to be alert to what he said; his godson had no proper mind shields. Anything he said could be found out if the Dark Lord raided his mind.

Draco had been spending a lot of time in the library; he feared it was to find out spells for his plan, whatever it was. So it didn't surprise him when that was exactly where Draco went once again. As usual, Draco had no sense; he couldn't even tell his own godfather was there. He wouldn't make a good Death Eater. He had no instincts to be cautious; he was too obvious and loud-mouthed. Harry had found out on the train about his being marked; who else knew?

Severus watched his godson, curiosity lingering in his eyes; he wasn't in the Dark Arts section. No, he was doing research; arching an eyebrow, he silently crept closer. Shock splashed across his face, he was researching the Dark Lord! He knew about his true name. What made him do that? Severus groaned quietly; he had a feeling he already knew… Harry. Just what had his son been up to? He might have just saved this generation of students from following their parents' footsteps. If only it was that easy; most wouldn't feel they had a choice. Slytherins did what they had to, to survive; that did include joining the Dark Lord.

"He was right," Draco muttered in disbelief as he stared at the information in front of him. Half of him had suspected Potter to be lying through his teeth, yet here it was. Then again, Potter didn't make a habit of lying, he told the truth whether you wanted to hear it or not. He was marked by a Mudblood; he didn't care if that Mudblood was also the heir of Salazar Slytherin! Merlin, what was he supposed to do now? Unconsciously Draco began to scratch at his clothes-covered Mark as he tried to understand and come up with a plan.

Looking around and realizing where he was, he cursed silently as he grabbed everything and ran from the library. He couldn't let anyone see him this way; he was a Malfoy, he never showed emotions in public. It was the first thing his parents had drummed into him since he was a baby. His mum... he wished he could tell her, but it would be dangerous. His aunt might still be there, and she was crazy enough to kill her and then come after him. Family didn't mean anything to Bellatrix, and he was glad to be back at Hogwarts. Anything to get away from Malfoy Manor, a place that had been his home, his safe place until this summer.

"Draco, do watch where you are going," Severus said, staring down his large nose at his godson, in doing so getting a glimpse of how he felt. He was very conflicted, hurt, deeply afraid of the new information he'd found.

"Sorry, sir," Draco said, standing proud and tall, trying not to show how nervous he was. He knew his godfather was a Death Eater, but he'd always put him first… but would he against the Dark Lord? He wasn't sure and didn't want to find out any time soon.

"What are you up to?" Severus asked suspiciously; hoping a glimpse of his plans would come to the forefront of his mind.

"Nothing sir, just some homework," Draco answered impassively.

"Indeed?" replied Severus, "Very well, then, off you go." There was nothing to be done about it; Draco wasn't thinking about it. He did want to know what Draco had been ordered to do, to prove his worth to the Dark Lord. There were only two viable targets, Harry or Dumbledore, both whom he was deadly afraid of. It made sense to make it Harry, but the Dark Lord was insistent on being the one to kill him. So that made Dumbledore the only other target. There was no way Draco could do such a thing, yet that was perhaps the point of it all. Maybe Draco wasn't supposed to succeed― His way of punishing the son and the mother for the father's mistake.

Draco walked away, relief thrumming through him; he couldn't let him see the books he had. He didn't know if he would be protecting his godfather or protecting himself from the man. Everything was stressful these days. It was funny, that, but Draco wished he could go back to when life had been simple. To the age of eleven, when his only concern had been school, friends, house points, and maybe schoolboy rivalries. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Potter now.

"And, Draco?" Severus called, watching his godson stop and stiffen before turning around.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, curiosity bleeding into his voice.

"If you ever need me, all you need to do is come to me. I will do anything and everything in my power to help you," Severus said honestly. The ball was in Draco's court now; it was his decision. Severus had done all he could to help him, and if he couldn't, he'd just have to live with it. It wasn't a decision he'd wish on anyone, living with the Mark; he knew how it felt.

Draco's lips twitched into a half-smile, half-grimace, the guilt churning uncomfortably in his stomach. "Thanks, Sev," he whispered quietly before leaving. He didn't normally call him Sev during the school year. Then again, Severus didn't usually act all godfatherly during the school year. He must be getting soft; either that, or he saw right through Draco's masks and knew he was depressed. This wouldn't surprise him; Severus was just brilliant like that. If there was anyone he'd strive to be like, it would be the man in front of him. Seven years ago it would have been his father, but he'd been an idiot, unaware of just what kind of man his father truly was.

Severus watched his godson go, tiredly rubbing at his eyes, his desire to save everyone burning strongly. He knew it was wishful thinking. He couldn't save everyone; he'd learned that very quickly during his first few weeks into spying. Learnt it personally when Lily had died, after all the trouble he'd gone to, to keep her safe. All he could do was teach Harry everything he could; by keeping his son alive he'd be effectively saving everyone else.

Speaking of Harry, they had "detention," which meant more training, while Zar took off for the day. If he accidentally hit Harry with Zar on him, the basilisk would either be hurt too, or come off to defend him. Not something Severus wanted happening, thank you very much. Come next year, Zar would have to stay behind, there was just no way he could keep doing this. He was inches bigger already since the start of term; if he continued at the same rate, he'd be fully grown very soon. If anything happened to Zar or someone within the school, it would devastate his son. So they truly did need to be cautious. Turning, he headed off in the direction of his quarters, knowing his son would be down soon. He could only hope Draco sought him out or figured out something for himself.


Edited by Jake and Jordre thanks guys!