This is my first fanfic and I hope you'll like it. I'm sorry for the many mistakes I made, I've reread this chapter again and again, and I hope won't be mad at me because of the faults left. So enjoy yourself and review a lot!!!

(Disclaimer: I own none of the persons in this chapter. J. K. Rowling owns them. Only the story is mine.)

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Ways of Life

Chapter One

The Way things happen

...

Pain.

Incredible pain was everything he felt as he tottered down the street, leaving bloody spots on the pavement behind him.

How could he have been so careless? Ridiculous.

He almost laughed about his stupidity, but was taught better when hot pain raged through his whole body. As a matter of fact he wasn't sure where he was now, but this wasn't important at the moment. His mind was only focused on going on, but this ranged more difficult as he had imagined. He was barely conscious, every step was a torture, but he had to go on.

They've done a good job at least.

He smiled but was interrupted by a sharp side wind which sends a tremble through his already weakened body.

Damn. He hasn't noticed how cold it was. He was getting too old for this. The headmaster should search someone else for this job as he has to do it anyway, because their little game flew up a few hours ago. But this was the last thing giving your worthless life a sense, as a little nasty voice inside the back of his head reminds him. It was right he thought exhausted. Great, the old greasy git wasn't strong enough anymore to win a little battle with his mind. How ridiculous.

His footsteps became more and more ponderous as he reached a street called Privet Drive. An odd feeling crossed his mind. He has heard this name before but couldn't remember when, but this also wasn't important. Hot fever raged through his body and let him sink down on his knees.

Oh, no. No, not yet. This wasn't the time to faint. He has to put himself together, but before knowing what happened to him, the world turned black.

...

Really a great day the boy-who-lived thought while returning home again. In the morning he had wasted his time with cutting the hedges in front of the house while Dudley was eating the biggest bowl of ice-cream ever seen on earth. And he'd thought Dudley couldn't become fatter, but he'd been wrong. Till the last horribly two weeks he had become this fat that he once got stucked in an armchair so that uncle Vernon had to call the fire brigade. They've spent the whole day on cutting Dudley out of it. This had been rather funny until the mask Harry had worn onto his face had divulged his malicious pleasure with the result that uncle Vernon had noticed it and he himself had spent the rest of the day with mowing the lawn, cutting the roses and removing the weed. After this incident Dudley had to live diet and this morning,... But that doesn't matter. Where has he stopped? Oh, yes. After cutting the hedges aunt Petunia had sent him to the supermarket to buy some things for the weekend. It had been very crowded, so that he had been late and missed the lunch. But instead of having a break he was sent to fetch some clothes from the dry cleaner's. But as if this wasn't enough, aunt Petunia had not given him enough money for paying them and uncle Vernon had to come. He'd been very angry with Harry, even when this wasn't his fault. And there he was on his way home, because uncle Vernon had not taken him back with him, hoping that they would be on their journey when he'd arrive at number four, when he noticed somebody breaking down a few houses apart from him. This shape. This couldn't be, could it?

Without caring for his own tiredness, Harry hurried to, the now on the ground lying, man. And he'd been right.

This couldn't be. What was the potions master doing at Privet Drive in such a bad state?

As Harry could see the man was covered with cuts, bruises and burns.

Who had done this to him?

Harry was lost in his questions as a painful groan brought him back to the present.

...

As the potions master awakened he felt better and the comfortable feeling around him told him that was lying in a bed. His injuries had been fixed up and his whole body had been cleaned from the torments of the previous day. He opened his eyes a little bit just enough to see where he was. Careful not to let the persons that may be around him know that he was awake, but as he realized that he was alone, he opened them completely and shut them at the same moment, his eyes in agony of the light that had flood inside them one second before. And so he lay a few minutes without moving until he decided to open them again. This time he was more careful and waited until his eyes became used to the luminosity of the room. The next minutes he spent on examining the room for something that might tell him where he was, but all he found were a small cupboard and an old desk with some books onto it, which he recognized as some for studying magic. So he was at a witch's or a wizard's house at least. Without really thinking about it he decided to get up, but this wasn't a good idea as he realized after some painful moves. He was now lying on the floor after some pathetic sounds had escaped him, helpless as a child. Fantastic he thought bitterly after some tries to move which turned out to be impossible. And as if this wasn't enough, he heard the door cracking. How humiliating.

...

A few minutes before, the boy-who-lived was sitting in am armchair half asleep, thinking about the events of the previous days, when he'd found the potions master lying badly hurt on the cold stones of the pavement with hot fever raging through him, forcing him to breath agonized. His many broken rips and bones as well as his internal injuries had not made the situation better, with the result that he'd found himself shocked and confused, but also worried, and this feeling towards the hated man was strange to him, this man who'd hated Harry from his first day at Hogwarts and had humiliated him as often as the sun had risen from this day on and whose favourite game it was to find something to get him expelled. And now this man was lying in his bed, sleeping after three horrible and very strenuous nights which had really exhausted him, Harry thought while yawning widely and trying not to sink into a sleep as he has to look after his potions master in one or two hours to check his bandages which had been very bloody every time Harry had changed them. Now he knew that he would never be so careless again, giving Madame Pomfrey so much extra work, and yawned again.

And at the same time he decided to refill his healing potions, self made not to say, which had been very difficult to brew, he heard some noise from above followed by some painful cries. Without thinking Harry stormed upstairs but on the halfway back downstairs and after refilling some bottles with the healing potion Harry hurried upstairs again and opened the door of his room with a soft cracking noise and was shocked again to see this man in such an agony. Immediately he knelt down beside the man trying to pull him into the bed again, which turned out to be very difficult as the potions master was totally cramped.

...

First he didn't felt anything else than pain and couldn't recognize who was helping him into the bed again. He was only focused on calming down his aching breath which seemed to be a hopeless battle until he felt some drops of liquid flowing down his throat, anaesthetizing him and let him sink into the pillows completely exhausted.

After some moments his breath had calmed down so that he'd relaxed a little and the pain had almost vanished. And so he lay until the other broke the silence.

"Are you feeling better sir?"

First he'd thought that he couldn't believe his ears. They must have been wrong. He was hearing Potters voice and this was an absurd imagination, wasn't it?

Why should he be at Potters house of all, he asked himself and opened his eyes again. Oh god, why had it to be Potter who'd found him? Was this the punishment for all his sins? This was the worst that could have happened to him, apart from the fact that Voldemorts servants could have found him and brought him back to the Nightmare Manor for some more torture sessions, but he has to answer something, and so he forced himself to say:

"I'm alright Potter as you could see, stupid boy!"

Ok, this wasn't an answer as he would have given under normal circumstances, but to hell this weren't normal circumstances. He hated himself for being this weak.

"All I see is that you've calmed down a little, sir. You should drink something from this", the boy said offering him one off the small bottles he'd brought with him.

Another time he could hardly believe his ears. How dare the boy to talk to him like that.

"And what exactly is this supposed to be, impertinent boy?"

"A healing potion I've made, ..."

"You've brow this healing potion you say, so that's a wonder I'm still alive", the potions master interrupted him, sneering.

Then there was a moment of silence until Harry found his speech again.

"I've fixed your wand, sir. Its' damage is remedied", he said, handed it to the potions master, and without saying another word, he left the room, while the professor was staring after him with an expression of utter disbelief on his face.

...

This statement had hurt him deeply. As a matter of fact Harry had been very afraid of seeing the potions master die the last three days, and this feeling annoyed him. He'd done everything for him, haven't even slept all those days. He doesn't deserve to be treated in such a way.

But you should have known this from the beginning a voice inside him corrected him. You should have known that he wouldn't change or thank you for helping him, even when you've hurt yourself while trying to brew all those potions. It's ridiculous to play the injured person. You should have let him d...

No, shut up. Nobody deserves to die this way. Not even the most ungrateful person or your worst enemy. So be quiet.

After winning this quarrel, Harry's doubts vanished. He was right to help him, and maybe... Another part of him wanted to believe that the professor might change his attitude towards him. Maybe.

...

He'd never expected the boy to be hurt like that. To be true he'd been very surprised when Harry had flown from him. One moment,. Since when I call the boy by his name? It was ludicrous but inside he felt something warmth for the boy. You're behaving like an idiot Severus, he told himself while observing his wand. It seemed to be totally repaired, but how could the boy have done this? He wasn't allowed to use magic outside the school. So how? If he'd used magic he'd gotten some trouble with the minister and they had sent somebody, and as he knew there was no other witch or wizard in this house apart from them. He must have used a repairing potion, but there was only one, and this one was dangerous to brew. Harry must have hurt himself...

The next Severus felt were some pricks of conscience. To hell, he doesn't deserve someone caring this much for him. At least he could do the boy a favour and drink this stupid potion, he thought while letting it flow inside his mouth and gulping heavily. Suddenly he felt warm and better, but also very drowsy...

~~~

When he woke the next time it was dark outside and he noticed that his retarded wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. More pricks of conscience came into his mind with the result that he decided to get up. This time he'd no problems and get dressed easily.

So the boy can sew, too, he thought while pulling his repaired robes on. And he'd been this ungrateful. He doesn't deserve anything at all. The sins he'd committed forbid him to deserve anything. He has no right to live a happy, normal life. No, everybody deserves it more than him. But he couldn't help himself. Sometimes he wished that his life would have gone another way so that he could be as every person, but he hated himself for wishing this even when Albus wanted him to become happy, Albus was wrong, he...

What to hell?

While thinking about himself the potions master had left the bedroom and walked downstairs to the living room, but had stopped at the door.

No, no, no! Harry!

...

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I've done it. This was my first chapter and the second is following within the next days. I'm writing at the third now. Please be patient with me. And thank you for reading this one!!!

Bye Celene