Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 02 : A Bit Of All Right
by I Got Tired of Waiting
Part V : Together
Chapter Fifty Three : The Deal
6 September 2003 (Continued)
Lazy Saturdays should never be wasted and so this wonderfully empty morning found Harry and Severus lounging in their dressing gowns, talking and laughing and debating about the events read in the morning paper while taking their leisurely breakfast, or discussing what they might do with their time should they ever rouse themselves enough to leave the castle. By late midmorning, they both agreed the first order of business was to send an Owl to Dumbledore requesting a meeting. They further decided that if they had not heard from him by noontime, they would go together to Wales to hunt up some furnishings for the Hana house.
Noon came and went. As they were about to depart through the front door of the castle, Dobby met them, saying that Madame Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore wanted to see them both in the infirmary; there was a problem and it was most urgent.
Harry and Severus exchanged resigned glances and, with mutual sighs, turned around and went up the stairs, their idyllic day over.
****
When Perrin woke abruptly, he experienced a wave of disorientation--white, it was so white--and for a brief blissful moment he wondered if he'd died and this was heaven; he felt no pain, didn't feel much at all. Then it all came into focus, his eyes tracking wildly. A white ceiling high above, bright white walls, white sheets under his hands, white beard and hair. Beard? Hair? He looked at the old man sitting by the bed in a squashy chair. He should know who he was--Dumbledore? Headmaster Dumbledore?
He tentatively tried the salutation. "Headmaster?"
"Ah, Mr. Long. So good to see you back with us. Don't try to speak," Dumbledore replied softly. "You're safe and well in the infirmary at Hogwarts."
Hogwarts. Perrin stared up at the ceiling. That was weird all in itself. He'd only been here a week, had only known he was a Wizard when that nice lady with the bun, Professor McGonagall, (was it only three weeks ago?), had come to his mum's flat with a letter of admission to Hogwarts. He was still trying to fathom what it all meant and, oh, the things he'd seen over the last week! Such strange things. Pictures that moved, portraits that talked, and ghost horses with wings! And people ghosts and witches and wizards and gnomes and goblins and a giant! He didn't know where he was sometimes, what with the things in the fairy tales being real and all.
His classes amazed him; he couldn't believe he'd floated a feather in the air. They were scary, too, at times. His potions class with the mean professor who talked of fame and glory was by far the worst; there was something nagging in the back of his mind about that, but for his life, he couldn't place it. Professor McGonagall was just as stern as Professor Snape, but at least she was nicer about it. But the people of his house, the Hufflepuffs, had been pretty kind about everything--there were others like him, pulled from the Muggle world and just as confused, and he had to admit he'd rather be anyplace other than home, what with his mum's husband and all. He missed his dad, though, gone now these last six years--
A rustle on the other side of the bed startled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to face the noise, stiffening in response to the unknown, and found his eyes meeting the kindest, greenest eyes he'd ever seen. They were nice eyes but worried. There were dark, weary circles under them and he could see the little wrinkles around the edges like his mum got when Tony drank away the food money. This man sitting by the bed was younger, with messy black hair and--was that a jagged scar on his forehead? He couldn't help peering at it. Ashamed of his staring, he looked away and mumbled, "Sorry."
The voice was low and even. "Whatever for?"
"Was staring. At your scar," Perrin mumbled, hazarding a glance to see if he was angry. He didn't want to make anyone angry because that's when the beatings started. He was surprised to see a smile--Tony would have been blazing by now.
Harry touched it and chuckled lightly. "What, this old thing? I don't even notice it's there, although I've been told it's pretty spectacular." He lifted the fringe off his forehead. "Go ahead, look your fill."
And he did. It wasn't as bad as when he first saw it and somehow it fit the man, like it was supposed to be there. Sweeping his eyes over the rest of him, Perrin noticed he was wearing a plain long-sleeved shirt tucked into old, faded blue jeans; the foot crossed over his knee was shod in ancient white Nikes. "You're a--Muggle?" he asked hesitantly.
"I'm Harry Potter and, no, I'm a Wizard." he replied with a wink. "I used to live with a Muggle family, though." Harry tilted his head at him and said kindly, "It's very confusing, isn't it? I remember my first trip to Diagon Alley and my first week here. Exciting and scary at the same time, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes! Professor McGonagall took me shopping for all my supplies; it was so cool. I got a wand and books and new clothes." Perrin noticed the grin Harry couldn't suppress. "Professor McGonagall said my stipend could even cover the cost of an owl, if you can believe it, which is good 'cause there was no way my mum could have afforded any of it seeing the way Tony always--"
He stopped abruptly, his face flushing with chagrin. He'd been about to say "--spends all of Mum's money," but was glad he'd stopped himself in time--it wouldn't do for Tony to find out he'd been spreading tales out of school.
Harry put his foot down and leaned forward a little, his hands loose and open on his lap but his eyes intent. "Tony?"
Perrin squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden tears stinging the back of them. He was in for it now. They'd tell Tony he'd been rude and then all of this would end. He would have to go home in disgrace and take his punishment for--
Harry's firm hand on his arm stroked gently, his soft murmured words in another language calming him as did the quietly spoken, "It's all right, Perrin. You're safe here. No one's going to send you home," by Dumbledore. Between them they eased much of his fear.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disrespect Tony," he said in small voice.
Harry spoke up. "Perrin, don't worry about it. You insulted no one." He leaned closer from his seated position in the chair, his hand still on the boy's arm. "I'm a Healer, Perrin, rather like a doctor. I have a few questions I need to ask you. The answers will be kept private, between the three of us, or if you prefer, the Headmaster can leave for a few minutes and it can be just between you and me." When Perrin looked at the two adults, he saw sincerity in Harry's face and concern in Dumbledore's.
When Perrin nodded, Harry continued. "It's never easy is it? Having someone at home who doesn't like you very much--I know all about that. When my parents died, I had to live with an aunt and an uncle and a cousin, all of whom hated me, called me a freak, and while they didn't beat me, they might as well had." Perrin was shocked, his eyes wide and staring. "Tony hurt you, didn't he? Called you all sorts of terrible names?" Perrin couldn't speak so he nodded. "Did he hurt your mother when she tried to help you?"
Perrin cleared his throat and Mr. Potter handed him a glass of water, which he gulped down gratefully. "Mum stopped trying to stop him early on." And that had hurt; he'd lost a lot of trust in her as Tony had taken more and more liberties and she'd done little to stop him. "I don't think he hit her though. I don't know that he did anything. I think she just stopped loving me. One day she just--stopped." His voice trailed off. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and for some reason he felt better with the touch.
Mr. Potter continued, his voice oddly strangled. "I'm sure she still loves you; sometimes adults do really stupid things." Perrin thought on what he'd said and knew it to be true. Like mum marrying Tony in the first place. Sure, mum had been really sad when Da had died, but she'd told him she was all right and had called him 'my little man'. Then he had come and it was like he'd cast a spell on her. The thought bothered him in a nebulous way, but since Perrin didn't know why or how, he forgot about it.
The Headmaster's pat on his hand drew his attention. He looked over Perrin at Mr. Potter and then, looking back at him, addressed Perrin quietly. "We have one last question, my boy, and need you to think hard on your answer." The statement was so serious from the normally smiling Headmaster, it made Perrin want to dive under the covers and never come out. He was glad of the steadying hand still on his shoulder; the warmth of the healer's hand thawed some of his fear.
Harry squeezed his shoulder in encouragement, waited a moment, and then asked, "Were there ever times where you felt like you were missing time? When it was like you woke up and things were different than you last remembered? The sun in a new place--being somewhere you didn't remember being?"
He knew! Perrin whimpered. The real terror--not knowing where he'd been, what had been done. The pain and the sick feeling afterwards, his head fuzzy inside. He whispered, "Yes. It hurt afterwards." He rocked a bit where he sat. "How did you know?"
The healer closed his eyes a moment, then opened them slowly to gaze at him with the oddest expression. It was almost the same look his mum got on her face when she talked about his Da. "Perrin, I know many things and the one that's most important, right now, is that you don't need to be afraid here. Tony can't reach you, can't touch you at Hogwarts. You're safe. While I can't promise you anything about your peers, I can promise you that no adult is going to hit you here, ever."
Perrin blurted out, "I thought Professor Snape was going to. He hates me, you know." He was confused with the sudden change in Harry's face. It was still kind, but there was an implacability there as well.
"Professor Snape would no more strike you than I or Professor Dumbledore would. Unless you remember something different, he stopped you from running away with an arm across your chest and knocked your hands down when you were about to touch your face with the potion on your hands. Is this not true?"
"Yes, sir--but he was so angry at me."
Harry looked to the side for a moment obviously collecting his thoughts. He turned back to look at Perrin, saying gently, "Just because someone is angry doesn't mean they're going to beat you or that they hate you, Perrin, and I understand where you may have some difficulty believing me on this. Professor Snape is a good man and was more irritated at himself for not stopping you in time before you both got hurt. He is rarely angry at the students unless they're willfully disobeying the rules or him; he knows you didn't defy him on purpose."
Dumbledore spoke up. "Professor Snape needed to react swiftly to the dangerous situation before anyone got more hurt. It is sometimes easy to mistake concern and worry and pain for anger; however, Professor Snape wasn't angry so much at you, but frustrated with the situation and trying to control his own discomfort to help you, which can look an awful lot like anger." He smiled and peered at Perrin over his spectacles. "Perhaps this might be a memorable lesson to pay more attention in potions class?"
Perrin nodded, saying, "Yes, sir," and felt easier yet also a little guilty. He'd forgot the Potions Master had been hurt as well. But what they were saying made sense and he knew that with his Da, at least, it had been true. He looked over at the healer when he said wryly, "Next time, if you think he's angry, try to telling yourself he's just being 'loudly concerned'." He chuckled ruefully, looking at Dumbledore across the bed. "As I have good cause to remember--"
He was interrupted by the appearance of a snowy white owl flying into the room. She landed on the side of the bed next to Dumbledore, who removed a letter from her sharp beak. The bird minced across Perrin's legs and bobbed at Harry, who stroked her chest with the back of his fingers. Dumbledore reached into a pocket of his rich green robes and pulled out an owl treat, which he promptly handed to Perrin with a "Thank you, Hedwig, for a swift return."
While Dumbledore pulled the parchment out of the envelope, Hedwig neatly took the treat out of the boy's hand and when finished, she nipped Perrin's fingers and flew off. Perrin followed her progress out the window, which opened for her, his eyes wide and wondering.
After reading the note, Dumbledore stood and, leaning over the bed, handed it to Harry. Perrin watched as Harry's eyes scanned the lines penned on the paper, a frown forming between his brows. Harry sighed and folded the letter, putting it into his back pocket.
"I'm sorry, I have to go now, Perrin. I've checked you over and you're right as rain. Madame Pomfrey and I want to keep you here overnight to make sure you stay that way. I'll come back later this evening to check on you myself. All right?"
Harry rose from the chair and squeezed Perrin's shoulder gently when he nodded, his eyes fixed on Harry's face. Harry's hand brushed a stray lock of hair from the boy's forehead as he murmured, "Sopophorus." Perrin felt his eyelids get heavy and his body sag into the mattress as he swiftly entered his dreams.
****
At the sound of familiar footsteps coming towards him, Severus looked up from the book he wasn't really reading in the lounge of the infirmary. Setting it down, he stood from the chair in which he'd been impatiently brooding and asked, "How is he?"
"He's fine," Dumbledore said at the same time Harry said, "He'll be fine with time."
"Well? Which is it?" Severus asked reasonably, hiding his concern over the dark circles under Harry's eyes and the pale cast to his skin. "I saw Bill on his way out--" he rummaged in his pocket "--he said the curse was not set very deep yet and was fairly easy to break." He pulled out the familiar amber vial and making sure it hadn't leaked, handed it to Harry. "Here, you'll need this." Severus watched to make sure Harry drank down all the restorative before taking the empty vial back from him and pocketing it.
Harry sighed, licking the sweet potion off of his lips. "Thanks, Severus. Whenever did you find the time to make more of this? It can't be more than a week old."
He chuckled. "I'm not a Potions Master for nothing. I worked it in with all of Poppy's potions for the infirmary." What he didn't say, but he knew Harry heard anyway was that he wanted to make sure that the supply Harry used was fresh and pure, something he could not count on in the various institutions in which he practiced.
"I knew there was a reason I keep you around," Harry said lightly, teasing him; his colour was looking better all ready and Severus was pleased. He resisted the urge to touch him.
"And here I thought it was for my hot--"
"Ahem, gentlemen," Dumbledore interrupted.
"--bathing pool," Severus finished, raising a brow at Dumbledore. "Why Albus, whatever did you think I was going to say?"
It was good to hear Harry laugh and, with the small smile hidden in his beard, Dumbledore obviously thought the same.
Dumbledore shook his head in mock sadness as if at a couple of irascible students. "I need to check with Poppy on a few things. I trust you two can keep yourselves amused in my absence?" Without waiting for a response, he turned and made his way to her office.
The moment he was out of sight, Harry put his hand on Severus' arm. He could feel the shaking through the fabric of his robes and wordlessly folded Harry in his arms. Harry's hands snaked around his waist, holding him back, his head curled on his chest; with his closeness, Severus could feel the tremours running through him. He didn't need to ask what they'd found or how horrible had it been; Harry's response told him all he needed to know. A few minutes later, Harry calmed and stepped back a little. Severus stroked his cheek with his fingertips, kissed his forehead, and waited. Harry sighed, held him close one more time in a fierce hug, and let go with an "It was awful."
Severus' hand was still in Harry's hair, his thumb caressing his cheek. Dropping his hand to his side, he said, "It always is." Harry nodded and, standing close to each other but not touching, they waited.
Returning noisily, Dumbledore eyed them closely and, apparently satisfied with what he saw, gestured for them leave the infirmary. "Perhaps it would be better to discuss this in my office."
They walked briskly enough that the few people who considered stopping them thought twice about it, their light banter continuing all the way to the gargoyle guarding the stairs. Severus found the easy conversation somewhat unsettling in light of the seriousness of the last few hours; dinner had come and gone with none of them noticing.
Once seated comfortably at a small dining table tucked unseen under the spiral stairs, a light supper appeared in much the same manner as that of the dining hall. They ate quickly, ravenously, the plates refilling as needed until all three sat back with sighs of repletion. Severus noted that Harry ate twice what he normally did and filed the information away for future reference; while it had never affected him that way, Harry's use of the Sanos obviously depleted more than just his magic.
"Ah, I needed that," Harry said, patting his stomach. "Now to answer your question, Severus, Perrin is going to be all right. He just needs a day of rest and quiet to recover physically, but mentally is another matter altogether and may take some time."
He sat forward, his arms on the table. "But you were able to reverse the damage of the curse? All of it?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, thanks to you recognizing it in the first place, we caught it in time. According to Bill, the curse is so rare he's never actually encountered it; your text notes of its Schemata were critical to both his and my success."
Dumbledore poured them all a brandy. Handing the snifter to Severus, he queried, "I meant to ask you earlier, Severus, but we were so busy trying to get Bill Weasley here, how did you know? It's been banned for more than two centuries; I've heard of it, of course, but have never actually seen it."
Severus looked over at Fawkes on his perch, his thoughts troubled. In all the time he'd been sitting in the infirmary brooding on it, he didn't know why the question surprised him--he should have expected it. Reluctantly, he replied, "The Coactum is used primarily on children as it gives total control over all their actions without having to be renewed. It takes time, though, sometimes months, to set up the layers of the curse properly; very few Wizards are capable of casting it. Once completed, it's distinguished by a very distinctive, stilted speech pattern, often mistaken for shy stuttering, which degenerates over time. Mr. Long hasn't been at Hogwarts long enough, nor spoken enough for me to have recognized it sooner. It wasn't until I heard you questioning him earlier that I suspected what had happened."
He hesitated, his brow furrowing. "As to how I recognized it, Voldemort limited its use to a select few among the Inner Circle; it was a mark of his favour. Lucius employed it once on a boy who was--less than appreciative--of his attentions; he 'invited' me to catalogue the Schemata, which to my shame, I did. Eventually, if not removed, the spell destroys the mind leaving a Revenant, an empty shell, behind. Lucius gave the boy to Voldemort and I never knew what happened to him." He looked away and murmured, "I suppose my only redemption is that those notes may have saved another boy a similar fate."
Harry shuddered and briefly touched Severus' hand. "Why Perrin? And why would this 'Tony' do such a thing? Because he desired the boy?"
"Ah, I may have an answer for that," Dumbledore said, holding out his hand. "The letter, if I may, Harry?"
Harry leaned forward and pulled the now wrinkled parchment out of his back pocket and handed it to the Headmaster who in turn gave it to Severus. He scanned the note once, read through it more slowly a second time and, setting it in his lap, leaned back in the chair, his brow furrowed as he furiously searched his memory, trying to place the name. He knew he'd heard it before. "Antony Mendino. Italian, one of Voldemort's European contacts," he said softly, almost to himself.
Dumbledore took the letter from him. "Yes, and once married to--"
"--Lucius' cousin. I remember him now. I met him once many years ago; they kept in contact during the war." The thoughts were swirling in his mind, assembling quickly into an nasty picture. "Lucius used him. How the hell did Lucius know Perrin was a Wizard, unless--"
"It has to be, Severus. Lucius had to have known the father."
Harry, following the exchange, spoke up, "If I read that report right, Perrin's mother was a Muggle, his father a Wizard. Wouldn't she have known both of her husbands were Wizards?"
Albus answered him. "Not necessarily, Harry. Perrin's father, Albert Long, trained at Durmstrang and, evidently, never told his wife what he was. It happened sometimes during the war--some Wizards chose to drop out of it rather than choose sides."
"That makes sense and, if he wasn't using magic, it explains why Perrin commented on Tony spending all of his mother's money. But it still doesn't tell me 'why'."
Albus and Severus exchanged a look. Dumbledore nodded and Severus explained, "To get to us, Harry. We're still numbers one to three on his 'people I would really like to see dead' list. Lucius must have taken advantage of the mother's ignorance to have Antony prime Perrin and, if the man is operating the way he has in the past, he probably forced her into submission. He had a reputation for violence."
He took a sip of the brandy while Dumbledore took up the speculation. "And Perrin resisted. The boy is strong magically, I can feel it and he nearly escaped your body bind, Severus; it was not a weak spell. Tony must have used force to set the curse over a period of time, the previous abuse to soften him up for the coup de grace in Lucius' plan. Or was it Lucius' plan? Is the timing of four years ago significant? Based on Shacklebolt's report, Antony married Priscilla four months before Voldemort fell. Could it be that the Dark Lord started it and Lucius finished it?" He set his glass on the table.
"Does it matter? The result would have been the same and we may never know." Severus sighed, taking in Harry's look of incredulous horror. "Most insidious--who would ever suspect a child as a weapon? And it explains his frantic reaction to me when I approached him in the classroom. He would have been instructed to stay away from me at all costs as I am one of the few who could recognize the curse for what it was."
Dumbledore looked thoughtful and stared at Harry over his spectacles. "Regardless, Severus, you have the right of it; we may never know how it started, but we can prevent it from happening again." He paused and smiled like a happy Buddha, his shrewd eyes passing over both of them. Mildly, he continued. "Now, I believe I received a communication from you earlier this morning that you both wanted to see me about something of import?"
Severus knew that gaze all too well; it was the dreaded 'Albus-is-about-to-blindside-us-with-something-reasonable' look. They were in for it and, given he had no way to adequately warn Harry, he took a large sip of brandy to fortify him for what was sure to follow.
****
Walking back through the deserted hallways to the infirmary much later, an exhausted Severus rolled his eyes at Harry's comment, "I can't believe Albus accepted our resignation so readily. Watching over the boy seems a fair exchange for him releasing us from the Order."
"Yes, there is that, isn't there?" Severus remarked wryly and chuckled. "I have no doubt who got the better end of this deal--and it wasn't necessarily you."
"You are so cynical, Severus."
Snape sniffed. "I am merely practical."
"Right. And I'm a Blast-Ended Skrewt. The one who truly gets the 'better end', as you say, is Perrin. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but I think it's important the two of you make peace with each other; you got off to a rocky start and this arrangement could make him an integral part of our lives."
"Hmmm. Harry Potter, seer extraordinaire?"
"Hardly--Ron and I fabricated all our Divinations homework." He was pleased to note Severus' small smile, but continued in a more serious vein. "Should we tell him?"
"Which part? That you're now his guardian, or that someone cast a dark compulsion spell on him?"
"Both."
Severus gave the matter the thought it deserved. "No, I think this is one of those instances where omission has its place. We're not sure what's happened and the boy is under enough stress just learning about this world to be worried about what may be happening elsewhere. We will have to reassess the situation the closer it gets to the holidays when he might consider going home, although I am assuming you intend to keep him here."
"If at all possible, yes. I don't know what the rules are concerning a guardian vs. a living parent, but I don't want to see him go back either."
"In the Muggle world, the mother's claim is more valid. In the Wizarding world, your claim over that of a Muggle carries more weight. Since she can't get here and the Muggle authorities couldn't find Hogwarts if they tried, it is safe to assume you would be successful if you can convince Perrin to stay. Unfortunately, it will ultimately fall to Perrin to decide which world he will embrace."
"Don't you think it odd that Shacklebolt found the flat deserted and empty?"
"Not really. Given what we discovered today and even with no proof, I have no doubt Antony would not want to be caught."
"And the mother?"
"I would surmise that she is either with him or dead." They entered the infirmary. "Now I think we should stop discussing this until later."
****
The room was half-lit when Perrin woke to the sound of voices speaking softly outside his door. He concentrated, listening hard, and realised they belonged to the healer he'd met earlier, Harry Potter, and--Professor Snape? That couldn't be right. But there it was again--he may have only heard it in two classes in his life, but there was no mistaking the velvet baritone of the Potions Master.
Only now, the voice was--less harsh--it sounded tired and human. Perrin wondered briefly if he was dreaming. Everything felt real, though, and so he strained to listen. Maybe they would say what Dumbledore intended to do to him for hitting Professor Snape; whatever it was, he was sure it wasn't going to be pleasant.
The healer was saying, "Come on, Severus, quit stalling. I know you're dying to see with your own eyes that the boy is all right. He's still asleep and I'm quite sure he won't bite--" a short pause, "--this time."
Snape's immediate response was, "No, Harry. I don't do this. I don't visit the students in the infirmary unless they are Slytherin."
A beat, then Harry said softly, "You came to see me."
A long silence, then a sullen "That was--different."
Perrin could hear the laughter in Harry's voice. "Oh? How so?"
"Hmph. It just was."
"Severus, the sooner I can check on the boy, the sooner I can get to bed."
Briskly, "We can get to--" a long pause and then incredulity, "--you wouldn't." A rustle of clothing and then a long silence broken by "How Slytherin of you." The Potions Master sounded just like his mum when he'd done something clever.
A teasing voice. "Now, Severus, let's employ your Gryffindor side--"
"I can see I'm going to regret telling you that little tidbit." Snape gave out a protracted sigh. "Oh, very well."
Perrin closed his eyes, feigning sleep. He could hear the rustle of their robes as they stood by the side of the bed and knew the game was up when Snape said quietly, "Mr. Long, I trust you are feeling better?"
He opened his eyes to see Snape with his arms folded across his chest, one brow raised, and could that be a smile curling the edge of his mouth? Harry just openly grinned at him, saying, "Eavesdropping? Are you sure you were sorted into the right house? That's a most Slytherin thing to do."
"Indeed," Snape said, his neutral voice washing over Perrin, calming him, "I seem to recall the sorting hat taking its time with you, Mr. Long."
Perrin swallowed against fresh panic--was this bad? Had he done something wrong? Did the hat only take its time with 'troublemakers'? He knew what happened to them; they were beaten and got no supper. But the encouraging, sympathetic look from the healer prompted him to say, "The hat said I would do well in Slytherin."
Laughter in his voice, Harry muttered, "Seems to be a trend." Sobering, his mien understanding, Harry continued, "But you chose to go into Hufflepuff?" When Perrin nodded, Harry asked, "Why?"
Should he tell them the real reason? Could he trust them? He was confused as he looked between the two of them--they were different somehow, especially Professor Snape. It was almost as if he saw him through clear glass rather than the funny, wavy glass his mum had in the bathroom window. The calmness of the Potions Master finally decided him; for some reason he did not feel the same fear of the man that he had in his classroom. And the healer, whom he liked very much, obviously liked Professor Snape as well. "Safer. It felt safer there."
Harry reached over and pulled up a chair next to the bed. He flopped in it, sighing gratefully. "Sorry, I'm a bit tired." Perrin caught Snape's glance of concern, quickly hidden by his normal sternness. "And safety's important to you?" Harry asked.
"Yes, sir." He hesitated; it seemed a little bald. He wanted to explain and wasn't that a bit odd? Before he'd always felt compelled to silence. "Hasn't been very the last four years, ever since my mum got married to Tony." Now why did he go and bring him up? The thoughts of him and the things he did filled him with familiar terror. His throat clogged and he choked out, "Oh, please don't send me back to them! I'm sorry I hit you, Professor, sorry you got hurt, too. I wasn't thinking--it just happened--I didn't mean it to. I won't do it again. I promise, I'll listen and pay attention."
He couldn't look at either one of them, convinced he'd scorched it with his outburst and was therefore surprised when Professor Snape said quietly, "Apology accepted." When Perrin finally looked up at him, it was to see the normal stern face, but there was something--different--in his dark eyes.
Harry's hand covered his on the bed as he firmly said, "No one is going to send you back, Perrin. Not if you don't want to go." Perrin, turning his head from his fascination with Professor Snape, stared at the healer, then sat up in the bed. He was a little dizzy, but it settled after a moment. He saw Harry's eyes glaze and then focus back on him. "That's all right then," he murmured, giving Perrin's hand a squeeze.
Perrin didn't completely understand the look on Mr. Potter's face, but he did recognize kindness and concern when he saw it. And for some reason he believed him. "I don't have to go back? Ever?"
The deep voice of the Potions Master startled him. "No, Mr. Long, you do not. The Headmaster has decided to place you under--protection. As long as you stay at Hogwarts, no one in the outside world can contact you without his permission."
Perrin relaxed. His housemates had told him with awe that the Headmaster was the most powerful wizard alive, so if the Headmaster said it was all right, then it must be, 'cause even he knew wizards were stronger than Muggles. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "How's that?"
Harry's smile held a secret. "There are ways, Perrin. But that's for another discussion; we'll talk about it when you're completely well and settled in a little better. All right?"
"You're coming back here?" Perrin asked, confused.
Harry blinked. He raised a brow at Severus' low chuckle, tilting his head up sideways to give him a mock glare. Turning back to the boy, he said, "That's right, you wouldn't know, would you?" He grinned. "I live here."
**** TBC ****