Pairings in this chapter: Tom/Harry, slight Ron/Harry
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not getting money. I wish.
Chapter 8 : Children Waiting For The Day They Feel Good
Harry dreamed. He saw faceless people and listened to conversations he couldn't understand. He saw places he'd never been. He watched people die and inside, he cried. But none of this was as bad as the last dream that shook him that night.
He laid on a bed in a small room. His body ached and he felt blood dribbling down his skin. One eye wouldn't open. Harry was as still as he could, trying to ignore the burn of his body, though it brought tears to his eyes. He was afraid, very afraid. Any moment, he might…
The door opened. Harry turned his head and stared at the silhouette of a huge form in the doorway. He wondered if this was Death, come to take him finally. But he wasn't that lucky. The behemoth came closer, the smell of alcohol joining him. Harry felt himself shaking, but he couldn't move.
'You didn't do your chores,' the monster cackled. The boy was silent, but inside he was apologizing to every deity he could think of for displeasing them. Closer the monster came. Harry wanted to retch. Then…hands upon him. Harry jerked away only to be grabbed in huge, tight hands. The hands flipped him over and Harry screamed as pain took over his body. He cried and struggled with all his might, but the hands never let go and the monster didn't move away.
"HARRY!"
Green eyes snapped open and the scream rising from his mouth fell silent as his lip trembled. He stared at the shimmering figure holding him, who's hands were soothingly petting his hair and back. The cold filtered through him, awakening the boy's conscious mind.
"Tom," Harry sobbed, clutching to the so very solid form for his ghostly companion. He didn't care that logically, he should never be able to hug such a being. He didn't care that cold was making his fingers numb. Tom was there, murmuring softly in his ear. Harry wasn't being hurt and he wasn't alone. Tom was there.
"It hurts," the boy whispered.
"I know," replied the ghost, laying Harry back down and smoothing his hair from his damn forehead. The boy reached out, arms wrapping about the ghost's so illogically solid neck.
"Don't leave me," Harry murmured, tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. Tom smiled softly and leaned down to gently brush his ghostly lips across the boy's.
"Sleep, Harry…I'll protect you."
"Tom," Harry whispered in surprise, his eyes wide. "You kissed me…"
"Do you mind?" was the quiet response.
"No," responded Harry. But he did, a little bit, and Tom saw that. The ghost gently stroked his face.
"Don't think of it now. Just rest, Harry…"
It took a long hour or so before Tom was able to soothe the child back into slumber. The ghost didn't leave his side until morning, his deceivingly gentle voice weaving dark tales to the boy's psyche.
That first morning, all five occupants of Snape Manor found themselves at a late breakfast. Snape, Draco, and Harry settled into the table while Rylia finished the morning meal. She was a very clever being and had picked up on cooking skills after finding her bachelor Master to be less than adequate. She didn't know how he'd survived before finding her.
"How did you sleep?" Snape asked idly, sipping a cup of black coffee. The question was open, but few really wished to answer it.
"Oh, splendidly!" Tom said cheerfully, his voice a grating sound to the three still sleepy men. "You'd never guess what I dreamt of!"
"Ghosts don't sleep," Draco muttered. Tom shot him an amused look.
"How do you know that?"
The boy was silent and Tom grinned in triumph. Rylia started setting dishes upon the table and the meal began. It was surprisingly quiet, Snape thought. He looked over the others, noting Potter's dark rimmed eyes, Draco's deepness in his thoughts, Rylia's worry, and even Tom's amusement.
"We'll have visitors today. I expect all of you to behave well."
There was a faint threat within the words that each caught.
"Who's coming?" Draco drawled before eating a bit of bacon.
"Lupin and Weasley," was the quick response. Harry blinked, recognizing one name but not the other. He wondered quietly who this 'Lupin' was and if he would be kind to him. The name struck and oddly familiar note in his mind, but he couldn't make a connection at all. 'Weasley' held a similar response, deeper within his heart. Harry wondered just how he knew these two and what they were to him. He'd been wondering a lot that morning what life was like before he lost his memories.
Breakfast was almost over when a loud bell rang through the manor. Snape sighed softly and hefted himself up, muttering obscenities under his breath. Harry watched him go, but didn't move to follow, nor did Rylia, Draco, or Tom. Instead, the four of them were silent as they put down their forks and listened. Harry could hear a frantic voice being shut down suddenly by Snape sarcastic tone before another voice joined, much calmer but still worried. The visitors had arrived.
Snape returned quickly with the two men in tow. Harry took them in quietly. The first, probably his age by the look, was very tall with short red hair falling into his clear blue eyes. Freckles adorned his cheeks, his skin a deep bronze. The other boy was lanky like Draco, but much more strongly built, his shoulders broad and arms muscular. His slightly too small jeans showed off a small waist, shirt ripped in a few places and frayed in others. He was a working boy, Harry noted. Like someone he'd expect to work on a farm.
The second man was as old as Snape. His long, light brown hair was streaked with gray, pulled back at his nape, and his hazel eyes heavily shadowed. He was shorter than the redhead by a few inches and wasn't as wide either. He looked more like a wraith than a man, robes tattered and worn. Still, when Harry looked at his face, he could see the kindness that shone from it.
"Harry," the older man breathed, gazing at him in wonder. Harry had only a moment to think on it before the redhead barreled forward and grabbed him up.
"Harry, oh Merlin! I was so worried about you! Harry! I'm so glad you're okay!"
He didn't notice that Harry hadn't spoken, nor that the black haired boy's body was frozen, his eyes wide and far away. He didn't see the way his breath was stolen or the blood leaving his face.
"LET HIM GO!" Draco roared suddenly, ripping Weasley from the other boy. That was the final straw for Harry. A horrible scream erupted from his throat as he threw himself out of the chair, hands hugging his arms as his nails dug into his skin. So many people's faces shoved into his mind, fighting for dominance. A whole family of redheads, a girl with bushy brown hair smiling at him, younger people, a huge group of them surrounding him, laughing and congratulating, questioning, touching-TOUCHING!
"NOOO!!"
"Not again!" Snape cried, shoving Draco towards the other two men as he knelt beside the shaking child. He grabbed Harry's face, trying to give him an anchor. He didn't Rylia to have to stun him again. "Potter! Listen to me! HARRY! You're all right! You're safe! Listen to my voice!"
Everything stopped. Harry sucked in great gulps of air, his wide green eyes locked with concerned ebony. He shook, but he was awake again. The attack was over.
"Harry," the redhead whispered faintly, tears threatening to overflow from his eyes. Harry didn't move.
"I'm sorry," he whispered instead. Snape sighed softly and let him go. As he got up, Rylia rushed forward and embraced the boy instead, murmuring softly into his ear as she stroked his hair. He crumpled into her, arms weakly returning the hug. He was still shaking.
Scowling, Snape motioned for their visitors to follow him out into the foyer. He was quite cross about the event. Harry was there to be away from the Wizarding World and away from anything that could hurt him. Aside from the Schools, Snape Manor was the safest place in the world. And even there, Snape couldn't save the boy from pain.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" Snape hissed, whipping about the glare at the pale redhead. Weasley looked back at him pitifully, as if Harry's latest attack hurt him just as much. Snape's lip curled. "Did Dumbledore not warn you that physical contact severely distresses the boy!?"
"I didn't…I just…" The ebony eyes narrowed in disgust.
"You didn't think," he growled. "Don't attempt to touch Potter again. If possible, I would prefer your stay to be as little traumatic as possible."
Weasley looked away, flushed with shame. Sighing, Lupin ran a hand through his bangs.
"He truly remembers nothing?" he murmured softly, almost hopelessly. Snape softened.
"No," he replied with regret. "Not his life, his friends, his enemies…Not even Voldemort."
Lupin nodded and took a seat in the large, black couch. A moment later, Weasley joined him at the other end.
"He doesn't realize who Tom is," Lupin surmised. Snape merely nodded. Closing his eyes, the werewolf shook his head. "Or Draco. Or you."
"He did remember me," Snape corrected. Two sets of eyes jerked up to his face. "But…not fully. He remembered my name, eyes, and mark, but that was all."
"Of course he'd remember you," Weasley muttered. "You made his life hell."
The three fell into silence. From the kitchen, they could hear Draco speaking to Rylia, the feline's voice a striking contrast to the males surrounding her. Tom spoke up with amusement and Rylia gave him a quick retort, though none of the three could actually understand what was being said.
"How long will you be staying?" Snape asked finally. Lupin rubbed his temples.
"We planned a week, but it depends on how Harry feels about it. And you, of course."
Snape nodded. "A week. There are a few spare bedrooms still unoccupied. You may stay in those."
"Thank you, Severus," murmured Lupin, sounding emotionally drained. Snape noticed the dimness in his hazel eyes and felt a good amount of pity for the man. After all, in the absence of Sirius Black, Lupin had stepped in to be the boy's godfather.
Snape remember vividly the argument while Harry had still been asleep. Doubledore fought Lupin on each point until the werewolf finally conceded. Snape was surprised to find out later that Lupin had personally asked that, if not with himself, the boy would stay with Snape. It made him feel strangely honored.
The three of them went on to find the rooms, luggage shrunk in their pockets. In the kitchen, Harry was still laying against Rylia's chest, her hand stroking through his thick hair. He was tired, all of them could see that. Not even noon and sleep was trying to claim him. Finally, Draco helped the other boy up and, with Rylia's assistance, led him back to his room.
A/N: My fingers hurt, damn it. I should be working on my art assignment, but that dead armedillo is a real depressing sight...
Yay! New faces!!
I'm surprised you all like Rylia...^^;; I thought someone would scream out "MARY SUE!" or something...