::celeste::
Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Harry Potter. Shocking, I know. See this lady, named JK Rowling, owns the world and it's characters. Rowling is brilliant, rich, and a wonderful writer. I'm not. Suing is bad for your Karma.
Summary: An accident in Potions (where else?) turns Snape into an infant. Dumbledore in his glorious wisdom (and because it makes a nice plot) leaves him in the care of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. By the by, this story takes place in fifth year. It was started before Order of the Phoenix, so it's now AU.
Rating: PG-13 for mild swearing, stuff you can say on Network TV. Really need to remember to update that in the story's details.
Dedication: Do you know my cousin had another baby? Woo, a braver girl than I. This is for Kayla and Shane.
Special Thanks: To Ramos, my Beta Reader. Thanks for helping me out again! I hope I've done your suggestions justice. If there are errors, believe me, it's because of my second run through. Read her stories when you're done with this one. She's such a wonderful writer, it's an honor to have her help.
A/N (a.k.a. the ridiculously long letter to readers): Thanks for reading, as always. Thanks for catching the mistakes. Potty=pody o.o,, how embarrassing. My bad. Here's the next chappie. Hope you enjoy ^.^
Chapter 10
Kidnapped
Friday began in a very unusual sort of way. For Harry, who had come to expect the unexpected, that was really saying something. The morning sunlight had peered through the crack of his bed curtains, and he shivered slightly with the chill in the air. That chill was particularly biting on his toes, and he had shifted his blanket to better cover them.
When he pulled his thick red comforter down, Harry realized he wasn't alone. Peeking out from the top was a head of long black hair, partially covering a face with thick long eyelashes serenely resting above a crooked nose and lips obscured by the hand which gently moved as the toddler sucked on his thumb even in sleep. Harry gazed over in dulled surprise, his mind struggling to wake up along with his eyes, and perhaps it was because he was still in this drowsy state that he rolled over, slung an arm over the tiny body, and pressed it nearly lovingly against his chest.
He didn't know how Snape had managed to get out of his crib, or why he had sought Harry for comfort, but since he had Harry accepted it and closed his eyes. For just a moment, he pretended that this was what a loving family felt like. This was what his father would have done with Harry if he had lived long enough to see his son reach two years of age. What he could have had without Voldemort, without the Dursleys, and without that cupboard. It felt like peace.
"Neville! Your stupid toad is sitting on my face again!"
Harry groaned and his eyes fluttered open, the moment definitely broken. He heard Ron swear before the rustle of fabric said he'd just gotten out of bed. Padded footsteps worked their way across the carpet, and another violent rush of rings sliding across a pole rang out. "Can't you make him stop that? Do you have any idea how gross it is to wake up to a toad's butt?!"
"Sorry, Ron," Neville's drowsy voice answered. "Maybe he thinks you're a lily pad."
"First of all, toads don't sit on lily pads. Frogs do. And even if Trevor were a frog, how in the world could he mistake my face for a place to squat? Wait, don't answer that." There was another rustle, and then Ron's teeth chattered. "Bloody hell it's cold. Your toad better not give me warts, Neville. Or, I swear to Merlin, I'll toss the blighter right out the window the next time he does it."
"I don't have any warts," Neville replied in a small voice.
"Uh-oh," Ron murmured in a distracted voice. Harry's curtains rustled for a moment and then Ron's panicked face blocked out the sunlight. "Harry, the little ankle biter's run off again!"
"No he hasn't. He's right here." Harry nodded towards Snape, who was still nestled against his chest. "He had to have climbed the crib sometime during the night – must have gotten cold."
Ron's face screwed into a look of repulsion. "You know, in any other situation, that would look really bad, mate." Harry glared before the curtains could shut again.
"Better than snuggling up to a toad!" he called out.
"Between Snape and Trevor, I'll take Trevor- thank you very much," Ron retorted sharply.
Harry rolled his eyes in disgust before gently disentangling himself from Snape. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep from waking the toddler up. Snape's eyes fluttered open, looking up to Harry. They closed briefly again while a huge yawn racked his body. Then, the tiny Professor pushed himself up rather clumsily, before he finally ended up sitting cross legged and rubbing his eyes with one hand while his werewolf doll remained tightly clutched in the other.
Harry himself had already rolled out of bed and was making his way towards the dresser. With his usual uniform arranged on the top, he finally allowed himself to stretch- scratching his lower back- and turned towards the door. He glanced over at Ron, who was busy changing. "I'm going to go take a shower, Ron. Can you look after Snape?"
"Yeah," Ron replied, slinging the orange and maroon tie around his neck messily. "You got an extra razor?"
"I'll put one on the sink for you," Harry assured him before stepping out.
But once he was in the shower, Harry stood with his forehead resting against the wall, just letting the water rinse over him. His mind swam, leaving him preoccupied. Malfoy's warning, Snape's runes, writings in the journal, Death Eaters in training, the connection that seemed forged between them in Snape's hatred for past sins unknown- even before he had arrived at Hogwarts, and- of course- Voldemort. Harry sighed heavily, running a hand through his soaked hair.
He had the distinct feeling he was missing something. Something important.
As Harry dried off, staring into the mirror at the fuzzy image of his scar, wondering what it was that stayed hidden from view. He tried to recall the words Lupin had used the day before, but they danced just out of reach. Harry frowned thoughtfully, staring into the mirror, before shaking his head. As he began shaving the minimal stubble on his face, he wondered why he couldn't simply worry over his O.W.L.S. like normal Wizarding kids. Of course, he could be making too much of it- but the gnawing in his gut didn't seem to think so.
…It could have been hunger as well.
He finished dressing, leaving his tie unknotted, and walked back into his dorm just as Dean and Seamus rushed past him. Harry strode to the bed, sat on its edge, and pulled up his wool socks while studiously ignoring the tiny Professor bouncing up and down next to him, still holding a battered looking doll whose lupine head bobbed rather loosely. "Razor's on the sink," Harry told Ron as he moved to the next foot.
"You have any troubles?"
"Just in the changing," Ron replied with his eyes fixed on his reflection as he adjusted his tie. "He actually seems mellow this morning. Enjoy it while it lasts. Come tomorrow, he'll have so much sugar in his system we'll be peeling Snape from the walls."
"Huh?" Harry paused in the act of shoving his foot into his shoe to blink up at Ron. "Why's that?"
Ron's brows pinched together before he threw Harry and incredulous look. "Don't tell me you've forgotten, Harry!"
"Forgotten? What'd I forget?"
Ron hung his head, shoulder slumping, as he mumbled. "We really need a break. Maybe Dumbledore can take Snape for a day."
"Ron…" Harry began; completely boggled by his best friend's commentary, and a bit annoyed he wasn't getting any answers, "what's going on?"
"All I'm saying is that when you forget that tomorrow is the day we get to go to Hogsmede, then you're under too much stress, mate." Ron replied solemnly. "You need to straighten out your priorities."
But Harry hadn't heard anything after Hogsmede. He slapped his forehead, causing Snape to pause in his hopping to gaze at him suspiciously. "How could I forget?!"
"That's what I've been asking," Ron stated. "Like I said, a break. Most especially from him. Know any second years we can pass him off on?"
"We can't do that," Harry told him without hesitation. "We'll just have to bring Severus with us."
"Pushunz?" Snape asked, holding out his werewolf plushy in appeasement.
"Breakfast," Harry corrected, picking Snape up after rising off the bed, "then Potions."
Ron shook his head, and the two parted in the hallway as Ron headed towards the bathroom for his own shower. Harry continued down to the Great Hall, Snape behaving shockingly well on the trip down the corridors and staircase. He didn't ask to be put down, or cause any further trouble then making faces at the portraits and students as they passed.
Hermione was already seated, a book propped open in front of her that held her avid attention. Harry said a bright good morning before placing Snape in his highchair. Hermione absently returned the salutation, but her eyes never drifted off the page.
Harry shrugged, sitting on the corner closest to Snape, and taking care of Snape's breakfast before his own. Once Snape was digging away with his pudgy little fingers, Harry turned to his own plate and began eating. His eyes drifted across the room to the Slytherin table seemingly of their own will, but he saw Malfoy and his two goons had yet to make an appearance.
It was another ten minutes before Ron ambled in. He sat down beside Hermione, filling his plate, speaking to the bushy brown haired girl as he did so. "Harry forgot about Hogsmede."
"That's nice," she replied in a very distant voice.
Harry pushed down his momentary annoyance at Ron for broadcasting his lapse in memory in favor of regarding Hermione. "What are you reading?"
"A Potions volume from the Professor's library," Hermione said, flipping a page. "I think-"
Harry and Ron both paused, gazing over expectantly. Snape was busy trying to shove a torn piece of toast into his werewolf doll's mouth.
Hermione looked up with a frown. "I think I've made a mistake."
That was not what Harry had expected to hear.
**
Nearly twenty minutes later, the trio and Snape were down in the small laboratory off from the classroom. Lupin had no problems dismissing them from class in order to work on the Potion, especially when Hermione had whispered urgently to him before he bustled them off.
Ron now sat on the familiar stool, elbows propped onto a table beside the cage of rats, his blue eyes intent on Hermione. "Alright. What's wrong with the Potion?"
"Well, it occurred to me last night," Hermione began, rifling through her assorted vials in various shades of color. "It's been nagging at me for weeks now, the question of Sevvie's awareness, you've both noticed it?"
Harry and Ron nodded nearly simultaneously. Harry had a flash of every warning, every glare, and every derisive snort that seemed so unnatural for the baby to make.
"I've begun journaling the major episodes," Hermione rolled open one of the parchments, carrying it over to the table between Ron and Harry, while each darted quick glances every so often at Snape. The toddler sat on the floor, playing with an unbreakable toy potions set, and completely oblivious to his former students.
Harry looked down, reading the precise looping script. The date had been recorded, followed by the time. Then, indented a bit, was a detailed account of his behaviors. One such entry had:
Professor Snape's eyes seemed to clear momentarily, shifting instantly towards the full-length mirror a few meters away from where he was playing. His face moved to a horrified expression, eyes widening while his breathing hitched, and then he spoke what I believe were the words, 'can't be.' This entire episode lasted a full thirty seconds, and then his attention again wavered when one of his blocks began shouting out its color at him. The trace of recognition was gone nearly as soon as it came over him, if that was what it was.
It was one of the more dramatic instances. Others seemed to record Snape struggling with a painful memory. Harry and Ron themselves had been wakened often during the night, not for a feeding, but simply to attempt to soothe whatever nightmare Snape had experienced. Most, however, dealt with his vocabulary and amazing comprehension.
Ron gazed at Hermione from the corner of his eyes. "What does this have to do with the potion?"
"Everything," Hermione replied firmly. "Snape is at risk for serious metal trauma if I continue administering it."
Harry's chin instantly snapped up. "What?"
"I thought these- flashes were positive signs!" Ron exclaimed, pointing down at the various entries. "That, you know, it's working!"
Hermione frowned lightly. "It's not that simple. Let me explain it this way. Right now, the Professor's consciousness is split into two pieces. His memories are all there; nothing aside from Obliviate or a pensieve can remove those, but his brain is – physically, that is- incapable of processing them. When these flashes happen, Ron, it means there's been a misfire in his synapses, triggered by something he recognizes. But, since his brain is still at the mental capacity of a two year old, it's causing-" she paused, searching for a word, "a re-wiring of sorts. Changing his neural structure so suddenly all the time- well- it could likely cause an overload."
"Overload?" Harry asked, trying to make sense of it all. Biology was definitely not his strong suit.
"Harry, there's a possibility that even if I find the right formula to change Snape back to his natural age, the shock to his mind- with it's new wiring- could cause him brain damage. He may be stuck with the mindset of a toddler indefinitely."
Harry stared, horrified, at Hermione.
Ron shook his head violently. "No. I mean- look at him," Ron pointed to Snape, who was busy mixing water and grape juice into a plastic cauldron. "When Neville's potion hit him, it didn't cause any damage!"
"We can't be sure. Even if it didn't, Snape got lucky," Hermione replied, her face fallen with defeat. "I don't think it's worth the risk to try it again. Can you think of anything that the Professor would be more horrified to lose than his intelligence, his self-awareness? I think he'd rather die. I would."
Ron became crestfallen. "So, these flashes are hurting him, then?"
"Not exactly by themselves, no. It's when the jumps take place that causes him risk- because he's had time to form these new pathways. He's spent too long adjusting to his current body, Ron." Hermione replied.
"So, what?" Harry asked, rubbing a hand through his hair. "We let him grow up again, naturally?"
"That's one possibility, yes," Hermione replied, nodding. "But, I don't think that's very advisable either. Just as you can't ignore the new pathways, we can't ignore the old ones. Otherwise, Severus could develop behavioral problems."
Ron frowned down at the parchment. "So- what do we do?"
"I think we need to do this gradually. Slow increments, to allow him to acclimate the old and the new together." Hermione brought over the book, pointing out a particular elixir with instructions far over Harry's abilities. "I've found a potion that, if added to the aging solution and injected into his blood stream, should act as a sort of time release. That way, the effects are still permanent, but introduced more slowly- and in smaller amounts," Hermione shrugged. "The older he gets, the more his memories will have time to re-introduce themselves in a manner he can handle without possibly causing any psychological damage. Similarly, the newer pathways will have time to develop properly, not causing any neural problems. Now, I'm hypothesizing here, but by the time he goes through puberty again, his mind should be much more able to handle the bigger leaps forward. Although, I'd still like to space those out as well."
Both boys were struggling to make some semblance of sense out of it. Harry thought he caught the gist of it, but had nowhere near the understanding Hermione seemed to show. "Alright, so, what sort of a time range are we talking about here? Weeks?"
Hermione had the same sort of uneasy look in her eyes. The sort of hesitation one gives before delivering a bit of bad news. "By estimation- around a year and a half, Harry. By the end of it, he should be around eighteen. After that, we can progress him a year every week."
Harry and Ron both stared at Hermione as if she had lost her mind. Harry thought that perhaps she had. A year and a half?! True, he had been growing use to having the Professor around, at least in his current incarnation, but for the rest of this school year- and then the next? He wasn't cut out for playing nanny for that period of time.
"We can't watch Snape for a year and a half!" Ron shouted, speaking Harry's exact thoughts aloud. Ron jumped off his stool and started pacing- a clear indicator of his unease with the idea Hermione had just proposed.
Snape paused before adding what looked to be seltzer, glancing up with an annoyed expression on his face, then ignored them in favor of returning to his work. Harry wished he could indulge in the same blissful ignorance at the moment.
"We won't need to, Ron," Hermione began, watching Ron as he moved back and forth. "He should be fourteen or so by next September. He won't need someone constantly supervising him then. And, I'm reasonably certain, around that time he'll have his full memories and personality intact."
"Wonderful," Ron spat, looking even more aggrieved. "Are you telling me next school year, a third year appearing Snape- with the lovely personality of our dear Professor- is going to be traipsing around taking off house points and teaching us?"
Harry held up his hand. "Wait, you said
he would be eighteen around next May.
If he's fourteen in September- how exactly does that all work out,
Hermione? I mean, shouldn't it be
slower at the start- and then get faster?"
"No- he'll grow tolerant to the elixir and its effect will gradually lessen. But, by the time it no longer works, he'll be ready for the undiluted aging potion," Hermione replied confidently. "I just have a few more formulas to work out, and then I'll be ready to give him a dosage." She placed a hand on his arm. "Trust me, Harry. Doing it a bit each day is vastly better than these huge leaps in the span of a minute. His system won't be able to take the shock the way we're going about it now."
"So he'll go to St. Mungo's then?" Ron asked, clearly eager to be rid of Snape.
Hermione was horrified. "Ron! You-Know-Who is out there! We can't just place him in the hospital without any sort of protection!"
And that, Harry thought grimly, was a very good point.
"Well he can't very well go back to the Burrow! No way Harry's muggle family is going to let Snape go back to their house during the summer! And your parents? Nice people and all, Hermione, but I think it would be a bit hard to explain," Ron replied forcefully. "We can't watch him ourselves!"
"Well, I'll speak to Dumbledore about all this when I'm ready to proceed. I'm sure he'll think of something- and the summer months are a long way off," Hermione answered in a calm, reasonable voice. "Lets try to do what we've been doing, Ron."
"And what, exactly, is that?" Ron asked, stopping long enough to fold his arms.
"Taking this one day at a time," Hermione answered.
While Ron fumed at the silent pair, Snape let out a yell of success. "Pushunz!" he exclaimed, grinning madly, as he showed the trio the result of his ten-minute toil. Said potion ended up being a watery substance, tinted a rather nasty shade of dirt brown.
Harry's forehead hit the table with a loud 'thunk'.
**
Ron and Harry were both depressed through the rest of the day; neither gave their classes much attention. Not even the impending trip to Hogsmede could lift their spirits. Harry went into a sort of automatic pilot, letting his hands flip to the assigned reading, drop the sliced ingredients into the cauldron, or nod dully at Trelawney's continual promise of doom and death.
After dinner, Harry passed Snape off to his friends and trudged heavy footed across the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch. His broom was slung over one shoulder like a rifle, while the wind lashed mercilessly at him. When a particularly icy blast hit him straight on in the face, causing his maroon and gold robes to snap around him, Harry let out a small sigh. It seemed even his usual pleasure of flying would be a trial for him.
And he was right. Right away, he had trouble controlling his broom as he soared up higher than the walls of the pitch could shield him. He veered several times, all the while feeling his nose and cheeks burn in the freezing air. His breath was coming out in gray puffs, and he felt the first stirrings of winter breathing down his neck.
Even with the horrid weather, Angelina gave them no slack- not that Harry expected her to. She was driven to make the team win the cup, and they were two games away unless Ravenclaw managed to beat Slytherin. Then they would be one game away. Since it was Slytherin, no one was making any assumptions or taking chances. Normally, Harry enjoyed practice- but definitely not today.
By the time Angelina called it quits, Harry was so tired and weather-beaten he had sunk gratefully to the ground. He performed several warming charms on his numb face and hands while passing out of pitch- even though his wand was trembling as he shivered. It was as he placed his wand back into his pocket that he happened to glance at a dark figure out of the corner of his eye.
Harry stopped, twisting to get a clearer view. The figure was gone. Harry supposed it could have been an animal that had wandered out of the northern edge of the forest, or even a figment of his tired and cold mind. Harry dismissed it and continued towards the castle looming in the distance as the night grew dimmer- the orange flicker of fireplaces in the windows beckoning Harry like a Siren's call.
The empty halls echoed his footfalls as he traveled back towards Gryffindor tower. He sniffed several times, feeling his nose beginning to run. A cold was the last thing he needed, especially since Pepper Up tended to make it hard to hear for hours with all the steam blasting from the ears. Harry struggled to remember the peaceful feeling he'd had during the start of the day, but found it had long vanished.
He must have looked as horrible as he felt, judging by the look the Fat Lady gave him after Harry mumbled out the password. A brief recommendation to get some rest and the portrait swung open. Harry walked passed, through the stone archway, and made a beeline towards the fireplace.
The armchair a bit off to the side of the front of the grate was already wonderfully warm. Harry gave a grateful sigh as he sunk into it, feeling that chill in his bones finally melt away- replaced with a dull ache in his muscles.
Ron's voice pierced through the cloud of fuzziness, somewhere near the window. "Rough practice?"
Harry could always hear the envy in his best friend's voice whenever Ron mentioned something about the team after Harry returned from practice or a game. "Yeah," he said simply, unwinding the scarf Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him from his neck.
"Well, Ravenclaw's team is pretty good this year," Ron began, "might actually beat Slytherin. Give Gryffindor a shot at the trophy. We're a shoo in for the house cup if that happens."
"Sthupid Weezy," Snape muttered. "Thli-th'n get cuph."
"With Lupin acting as Head of House? I think not, Snape. Guarantee he's not giving out points to Crabbe for managing to breathe in between bites," Ron answered back.
"Bah," Snape spat. "Mehrva pah meh."
"What?" Ron glanced at Harry.
Harry shrugged. "Don't know."
"Embahsil," Snape muttered darkly. He then went back to his Potions Action Play Set™ and continued mixing.
Harry dismissed it and stood up out of the chair. "I'm going to bed. Is Hermione taking him tonight?"
"No such luck," Ron replied rather dejectedly, gazing over at Snape with an accusing glare. "Said she'd be studying all night. Won't have time."
"Stowee?" Snape asked, looking back up with huge round eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," Ron mumbled. "Who dies tonight?"
"PEPPAH!" Snape exclaimed happily, clapping his hands and grinning rather maniacally.
"Kay. I like killing that mutt." Ron turned thoughtful. "Shot 'im, dropped 'im off a cliff, ran him over with a herd of hungry Hippogriffs-" he rubbed his chin- "drowning?"
"PUSHUNZ!" Snape replied, clapping louder.
Ron's lips curled in disgust, then slowly turned into a ponderous frown as he considered it. "Slow dissection. It has possibilities."
"You are so sick," Harry stated, shaking his head. "The both of you. Do you know how many nightmares Neville is having thanks to your bedtime stories?"
"Oh c'mon, Harry! You know he hates it when they live at the end. Remember the story about the ugly duckling? He threw a fit when the duckling turned into a swan and found his family. I had to add that a vampire came by and sucked them all dry just to shut him up!" Ron declared hotly.
Snape laughed at the memory. "Vampee!" Snape then preceded to curl his pudgy little fingers like claws and make growling noises as he wobbled around in, what he no doubt assumed, was a frightening manner. It was anything but.
Harry gazed down at Snape and frowned. "I really think you should stop, Ron. He's becoming seriously demented. He's only two and a half, for Merlin's sake." Harry pointed to the still snarling toddler, who was chewing into the neck of his werewolf doll. "Just look at him."
"He's only playing, Harry," Ron replied, though he looked a little doubtful. He blinked then regarded Harry again, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. "Besides, what do you expect me to do? Sing to Snape?"
Harry shrugged again. "Why not?"
"Why not? Are you nutters? I'm not singing," Ron responded loftily. "Not to that little monster."
"Well, you'd better figure out something, because you're not telling him anymore of these morbid stories," Harry snapped back. The ice in his tone made Snape stop his assault on his doll, and he gazed up with uncomprehending eyes. Harry forced himself to relax, counting mentally to ten, and then smiled as he looked down at Snape. "You want to sleep in my bed, instead? Story in the crib, or lay down with me. Which one?"
Snape blinked, his little pouting lips stretching into a frown as he considered his choices. Then he narrowed his eyes. "No stowee?"
"No story," Harry echoed.
"I'm not hearing this conversation." Ron moaned pitifully. "Merlin, what have we become?"
"Shut up, Ron," Harry replied smoothly, still watching Snape think it out. "Well?"
Snape sighed with disappointment. Then, he picked up his poor little abused werewolf (one of the black button eyes was already hanging on a loose thread), and lifted his arms towards Harry. "No bah thweems."
It at least solved one of Harry's questions. He knelt down and lifted Snape up. "No bad dreams," he replied, adjusting the boy before glancing towards Ron. "You see? Your stories are giving him nightmares too."
"Thweems befo stowees," Snape informed him as the three walked up the staircase. "Stowees funneh."
"You would think so," Harry whispered to himself.
"I think they're works of creative genius," Ron stated as he trudged and sulked beside Harry. "I should write children's books."
"If you write a children's book you'll get hundreds of howlers from angry parents every morning," Harry told him. "Ron, I know you don't like Snape, but try to at least take this with some seriousness."
Ron stopped just inside the room and turned to glare at Harry. "You think I'm not?"
"I think you're making more out of this than you need to," Harry answered while placing Snape on his bed. He went over to his dresser and pulled his Quidditch robes off. "He's just a baby, Ron."
"Y'know, I'm really sick of you and Hermione going off on me," Ron retorted, slamming his own drawer shut and causing Neville, Dean, and Seamus to peek out of the curtains at the pair. "I feed him, don't I? Change his nappies. Wipe his drool and vomit. I even put that stuff on his arse to keep him from getting a rash. I don't want to do any of it, but I do. And he's made this hard for us every step of the way." Ron pulled his pajama top over his head with more force than was strictly necessary. "It's not my fault this happened, and yet I'm stuck with helping out. I don't do it for Snape. I don't do it because Dumbledore ordered me to. I do it because you're my friend, Harry," Ron nearly shouted. He whirled on his heel and glared daggers at Harry. "If that's not good enough then find someone else to do this sodding work, 'cause I'm getting sick of it."
Harry concentrated on his buttons, feeling awful. Ron was right. This wasn't his or Hermione's fault, and yet they were trying to help out. All he was doing was criticizing. Sure, Ron had all the sitting skills of a Dementor, but he was trying. He didn't have to. "I'm sorry, Ron," Harry finally said, looking up. "I just think you're too hard on him, that's all."
"Yeah, I probably am," Ron replied with a grumble. "Sorry."
"Well, y'know, you haven't tried to mail him off again. I suppose that's saying something," he said with a teasing grin.
Ron replied with a little twist of his own lips. "Mm. Guess it means I'm improving, ay?"
"Weezy neeth 'tenchen," Snape contributed with a smirk on his face.
"Stuff it," Ron replied, rolling his eyes, before climbing into his bed across the tower room.
"THEN POINTHS!" Snape shouted angrily, already crawling towards the edge of Harry's bed with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"You can't take points," Ron pointed out, with obvious satisfaction, before snapping his hanging shut.
Harry sighed, setting his glasses atop the bedside table before rolling into the bed itself and shutting his own curtains- cutting off the snarling toddler's view of the room. "Sleep," Harry said firmly, lying down closest to the stonewall that sent a slight chill to his side. The weariness, driven off temporarily by his short discourse with Ron, now slammed into him. His eyelids immediately dropped, just as the toddler next to him curled into Harry's side.
**
The morning was hectic. Ron ran back and forth like a niffler searching for coins as he stuffed all Snape's nappies, bottles, books, and toys into his bulging bag. Harry watched with a bemused expression as Ron mistakenly shoved his Chudley Cannon's All Star book into the nappy bag. "I'm going to load up on candy," Ron babbled happily as the Cannon's book was followed by a sneak-a-scope. "Check out the latest brooms. Heck, I'll even follow Hermione into the book shop."
"How magnanimous of you," Harry observed with a twitching lip as he pulled Snape's Gryffindor sweater over his head. Snape was annoyed as his head popped through the collar like a turtle emerging from its shell. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."
"Yeah, probably will," Ron agreed absently, adding a few blankets for no reason Harry could think of. Ron then stopped, gazing down with a critical eye. "Think it's enough?"
"We'll only be there four or five hours max, Ron. No need to pack the entire dormitory," Harry stated.
"I know that," Ron replied, "but Snape has to be amused. Little blighter might actually stay out of trouble for once if he's distracted." Ron snapped his fingers. "The Potions Kit. I'll go grab it."
Harry watched with a bemused expression as Ron raced out of the dormitory. He then directed his gaze down at Snape, who was chewing on the ear of his werewolf. "You will be good, won't you?"
Snape stopped the mauling long enough to answer with a smirk.
Harry sighed. "Should've expected that. Alright then, maybe some of your blocks too." Harry went and reached in the corner where the stack of building blocks sat. He shoved those (with a lot of difficulty) into the bag.
"Wofie!" Snape declared, waving his doll.
"Don't you want to hold onto it?" Harry asked as he struggled to heft the nappy bag- nearly tipping over from the weight.
Snape clutched the plushy to his chest, nodding vigorously.
Ron came back with the Potions Action Play Set™ packed up into its box, and shoved that into the bag as well- studiously ignoring Snape's repeated cry of Pushunz. He took the bag from Harry, performed a lightening charm on it, and then set the strap over his shoulder. "I think that's it."
"Should he walk? Maybe we ought to take the push chair," Harry mumbled as he rubbed his chin.
"Better take it with us. He'll get tired," Ron advised rather sagely. He smirked down at Snape. "Old man doesn't swoop like he used to."
Snape stuck his tongue out.
"Right, now for the coat," Harry said brightly, and another struggle ensued as he dressed Snape up for the weather, which was nearing winter. By the time they walked down to the Common Room, the entire place was empty except for Hermione and a few first and second years.
She looked up at the boys and frowned, immediately sending both into a panic. Harry checked over Snape, making certain he had remembered everything. His cap, hanging mittens, and scarf were all in place, and the Potions Master still clutched his doll like a security blanket while sucking serenely on his thumb. "What's wrong?" Harry asked as they met her near the fireplace.
"What's wrong?! Harry! We can't take Snape to Hogsmede!" she declared shrilly, eyes alight with fury. Even Snape drew back from her heated declaration. "You-Know-Who ring any bells?!"
"What?" Ron asked, glancing down at Snape. "He can go to Hogsmede. Not like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is going to waltz on up to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, eh?"
Hermione gnashed her teeth together. "Don't either of you listen? Professor Lupin told us we couldn't go to Hogsmede this year."
The two boy's faces fell, and tears even appeared in the corner of Ron's eyes. "But-"
"No buts. He can't go. Neither can we," Hermione replied, standing immobile on the issue. "It's too dangerous."
Harry felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. Hogsmede. The one trip they were allowed to take. It was Harry's one chance to get out of the castle for some fresh air, for Honeydukes, for butterbeer and they couldn't go because of Voldemort.
Ron seemed unwilling to accept it. "But- but- his mark hasn't burned or anything! I'm sure it would be all right! We'll ask Dumbledore for permission," he whined.
"Hermione's right," Harry said sadly, already pulling Snape's cap off. "He can't go."
"Well- then- we'll leave him with Dumbledore! The Headmaster can watch him for a few hours, give us a break," Ron continued.
"Dumbledore is a busy man, Ron," Hermione stated as she helped Harry with Snape's coat. "We can't just dump Severus on him."
"Oh, but he can dump him on us?" Ron hissed before tossing the nappy bag down angrily. "This isn't fair!"
"No, it's not."
The three turned, to see Dumbledore and Lupin in the entryway to the Common Room, Snuffles at their feet. The Headmaster strode forward, and held out his hands for Snape. Harry handed him over wordlessly, and Snape immediately began giggling as he tugged on the long white beard. "My, they grow so quickly," Dumbledore stated with a smile and eyes twinkling, although he winced when Snape gave a very hard pull. The Headmaster then directed his attention over to the students still milling about. "Why don't you all go down for some breakfast? There are some particularly delicious blueberry muffins the House Elves have been eager to serve. New recipe, I understand."
The first and second years wordlessly scrambled out of the Common Room, leaving the trio alone with the Headmaster, Lupin, and a now-transformed Sirius Black. The Headmaster tickled Snape, eliciting several more giggles, as he continued speaking. "You all have done very well. I'm glad to see how adjusted Severus appears to be."
"He does seem happier, doesn't he?" Lupin observed, gazing down over Dumbledore's shoulder.
"Mm," Dumbledore nodded, gently extracting his beard from Snape's clutched fist. He looked over at Harry. "The mark has not burned?"
Harry shook his head. "No. Not once."
Dumbledore considered that, before holding Snape out for Sirius to take. The animangus convict gave Dumbledore an 'are you nuts?' look, which was answered by a raised brow. Looking extremely unhappy about it, Sirius hesitantly reached out and grasped Snape under the armpits- holding the snarling toddler a good meter away. Snape's feet kicked angrily as he dangled, and a litany of lisped insults flew from his mouth as he swatted his werewolf doll against Sirius' arm.
"Watch out for your-" Lupin began, spotting Snape's hand reaching out for one of Sirius black locks. The warning came too late, and Sirius yelped in pain as Snape yanked mercilessly on the fistful he had managed to grab. "Hair," Lupin finished lamely.
As Sirius and Snape struggled, Snape delivering several smacks with his doll against Sirius' face as he continued to pull, Dumbledore addressed the trio with seeming obliviousness. "I think some fresh air would do you all a great deal of good."
"Absolutely," Ron agreed nodding his head. Behind the Headmaster's back, Snape had managed to bring Sirius to his knees, and the two struggled for control of the doll with Snape starting to scream every word Fred and George had taught him.
The Headmaster spoke louder over the spew of screamed curses. "I've had Professor Flitwick and Professor Lupin place some anti-apparition barriers over Hogsmede. A friend in the ministry has temporarily cut off transport through the floo network in the thoroughfare. A few other members of the Order have been stationed around the village. Provided you all agree to an escort by Professor Lupin and Sirius, I believe it will be safe enough for you all to take Severus to Hogsmede."
While elation and joy flooded Harry, Snape had managed to get himself onto Sirius' shoulders. His tiny shoes bashed into the side of the animangus' head, and his fists held strands of the long black hair like reigns. "HORSIE!" Snape shouted with delight, kicking Sirius again. "WIDE HORSIE! WIDE!"
"GET HIM OFF ME, REMUS!" Sirius roared in between kicks, trying unsuccessfully to reach around and pull Snape off his back.
"Oh," Lupin replied mildly with twitching lips, "he just wants a piggy back ride, Sirius. No harm in it."
"I'll set him on your- OMPH- back and see how you- STOP THAT- like it!" Sirius spat before falling onto his side and rolling over to crush Snape.
"Trot about a bit, Sirius," Dumbledore stated mildly while his blue eyes twinkled like mad.
Sirius growled, and then looked completely humiliated as he crawled around the Common Room with Snape cheering and laughing atop him. "WEEEE!" he cried, continually kicking Sirius in the face. "HORSIE! HORSIE!"
"Wait till this horsie bucks you off, you greasy little git," Sirius muttered angrily, glaring at Lupin as the Professor hid the snickers behind his hand.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, hands folded behind his back, "you'll have to stay with Professor Lupin and Sirius at all times. No exceptions. I trust you've read Snape's journal?" Harry didn't say anything, his lips pursed in silence. Dumbledore nodded. "Then you'll know not to wander away if any student should ask you to."
"Yes, Headmaster," Harry replied, and was echoed by Ron and Hermione. "We'll stay with them."
Dumbledore grinned. "Excellent. Enjoy the break, children. You've certainly earned it." Dumbledore then turned and wandered out of the Common Room, humming slightly under his breath.
As soon as the Headmaster was gone, Sirius stopped dead in his tracks and glared over at Remus. "Get him off."
Lupin walked over, lifting Snape up and took a few moments to untangle his fists from Sirius' hair. Snape pouted, pointing towards his doll that had fallen onto the floor. Lupin bent down and picked it up, before placing it in Snape's waiting hands.
Sirius stood, valiantly trying to untangle his hair. "Okay. Are you three ready?"
"I didn't think we would be going…" Hermione began. Harry glanced over, and saw she had an extremely doubtful look on her face. "What if Harry and Ron went? I could stay here with Severus."
"Now Hermione, the Headmaster went to all that trouble to see that you three could go to Hogsmede," Sirius told her in a mildly reproachful way. "It would be rude of you not to go, wouldn't it?"
"I suppose," she said hesitantly, looking to Ron or Harry for help.
Harry wasn't about to object- let alone Ron. He had forgotten about Hogsmede, but now that he was going, he was excited about it. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Anti-apparition wards and disconnected floo network. No way in or out without walking," Harry smiled reassuringly. "We know who to look out for, don't we?"
Hermione frowned again, but eventually yielded. "All right. Let me change."
"Hurry up!" Ron shouted after her as she disappeared up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. "Butterbeer waits for no man!" At Harry's lifted brow, Ron clarified. "Or woman. Whatever." Ron walked past Lupin and Snape, sitting down on the sofa. "She's a worrier, that one. No sense of fun."
"Hermione is just sensible, Ron," Lupin said in her defense. "A lot could still go wrong. Which is why it's very important for you to listen to Sirius and me."
"Ron has a point, though," Sirius interjected. "It's the thrill that makes things worth doing, eh Moony?"
"Ithiut," Snape said scathingly as he pulled his thumb from his mouth. "Sthupid Bak."
"Greasy git."
"Mowon."
"Bastard."
"Doo doo heth."
"Syphilis excreting du-"
"SIRIUS ALUDRA BLACK!"
"Er- dumb arse. What? He called me a doo doo head!"
"Children present. Including Severus. Try to act mature, for once."
Black snorted. "He started it, Moony."
Lupin rolled his eyes. "And I'm finishing it. For goodness sakes- at least Severus has an excuse. What's yours?"
Sirius muttered something else just as Hermione came downstairs wearing her heavy winter robes. "Ready," she stated, taking Snape from Lupin.
"What were you going to say?" Ron asked Sirius as they all started for the Portrait.
Sirius grinned and winked. "I'll tell you later. In three years," he said just before shifting his shape.
Ron rolled his eyes at the giant black dog as they left.
**
The trip to Hogsmede was relatively peaceful. The carriage Dumbledore had also arranged as an extra precaution took them up the path and to the main street, where it let them out. Ron nearly bounced with excitement, and even Hermione seemed in better cheer- though she insisted on carrying Snape herself. Harry and Snuffles walked along together, while Lupin stayed with Ron and Hermione.
It was a beautiful day. It was still cold, but the sky was a clear brilliant blue that seemed to stretch off into the rolling hills around the little Wizarding village. The wind was hardly a bother, and Harry wished it had been so calm the night before during practice. Students wandered around, chatting animatedly with their companions. Everyone seemed in high spirits, relaxed, and having a very good time.
"Where to?" Harry asked, turning around with a wide smile on his face.
"Honeydukes," came Ron's instant reply.
"All right," Harry answered, directing the trio, the toddler, and their two guards over to the sweet shop.
Ron had been right- it was impossible to keep Snape from reaching out for everything. Sugar quills, stopdroppers, sugar stars, gummy dragons, Bertie Bott's beans, chocolates of all shapes and sizes. Hermione was becoming flustered saying no so much, and soon just gave up in favor of sticking a huge lollipop the size of Snape's head into his hand which he immediately began mouthing away at.
"He can't talk around it," she stated with a harrumph, handing Snape over to Harry as she went to get some things the first and second years had wanted. Snape was indeed occupied with his lolli, and Harry was free to shove handfuls of Chocolate frogs into his basket. His stash was nothing compared to Ron's- especially when the red head had to go for a second carrier.
"What is he getting all that for?" Lupin asked, his own basket nearing the brim.
"Ron gives a lot out during Christmas," Harry explained. "So he always stocks up in November. Makes gift giving easier, he says. No worrying, everyone loves candy."
"Ah," Lupin said
with a small smile. "A rather clever way
to look at it."
Harry gazed down into Lupin's own basket.
"What about you?"
"Oh," Lupin shrugged. "I've a sweet tooth. Although, I can't eat it around full moon. And Snuffles asked me to pick up a good supply of medichocolate. He's still terribly paranoid about Dementors."
Harry and Lupin continued to follow Ron and Hermione around as they finished their candy shopping. There was a bit of a problem when a Hufflepuff got bumped into Snape and Snape's lollipop ended up stuck in the blonde's curly hair. It was terribly crowded, but the students thinned and made way as Snape threw a temper tantrum over his lost candy. Finally Ron shoved a sugar quill into his hand. "Don't stab yourself." He advised as Snape chewed on its red candied barbs.
Harry ended up paying for the sugar quill and the lollipop stuck in the Hufflepuff's hair. After everyone had paid, they ended up back out into the street. They stopped by the Quidditch Supply Outlet, Ron drooling over the brooms as Snape drooled on his candy. After dragging Ron away, they stopped off at the bookstore, where Snape had moved on to some of Lupin's sugar stars. By the time they left, Snape was bouncing in Harry's tired arms- his eyes wide and babbling incoherently about puppies and potions.
"No more sugar," Hermione stated, snatching the bag of candy away from Lupin, who looked a bit chastised.
Snape was struggling to be put down, so Harry placed him into the pushchair that Snape definitely didn't like. He pulled against the belt, yelling to be let out, and only quieted when Ron stealthily slipped him a chocolate frog.
Of course, it's rather hard not to notice he'd been given more candy when his hands and mouth were covered in melted chocolate. Ron stood with his head bowed as Hermione railed at him, saying Severus would get a stomachache and that he was too young to even be allowed sugar in the first place. Snape was again leaning over the side of his pushchair, trying to escape, and slapping Snuffles in the snout whenever the dog came close enough.
By the time they worked their way to the Three Broomsticks, Harry was more haggard than relaxed. Snape would not sit still, refusing to even look at his Potions set, and demanding to be set free. Finally, unable to take the tantrum, Harry unbuckled the belt and lifted him out, placing him on the chair next to him. "Stay there," he ordered forcefully.
Snape, of course, had no intention of listening. When the trio and Lupin took their eyes off him long enough to take their butterbeers, Snape managed to get down onto the floor and run amuck. His little hammer squeaked a hundred times a minute as he attacked everyone's knees. He crawled under the tables of the other students, biting their ankles, yanking on robes, and bashing their feet with his hammer.
Ron and Harry gave chase, crawling after him and saying 'sorry' as they bumped into whoever hadn't moved. One girl shrieked and kicked Ron when his head came a little too close to her skirted thigh. The redhead was busy rubbing his ribs and tactfully retreating.
Finally, Snuffles managed to get a good hold on the back of Snape's jeans with his teeth and dragged the screaming toddler back towards the table. Snape tried to dig his fingers into the floor, but ended up sliding along as Snuffles tugged. "BAH BAK!" Snape shouted, kicking out with his feet just as Harry scooped him up.
Snape's hands, covered in chocolate and syrup and all manner of whatever had been on the floor, were now struggling against Harry's face and glasses as he yelled dire baby epithets at Snuffles. Harry sighed, picked up Snape's werewolf doll, and turned towards the others. "I'll clean him up. It shouldn't take long."
"All right," Ron replied, wincing as he rubbed at his side. "Honestly, she didn't have to kick so hard. I said I was sorry."
"That's what you get for peeking up skirts," Hermione replied, sniffing with disdain.
"I didn't peek up her skirt!" Ron shouted back angrily. "I was looking for him!"
"Whatever," Hermione muttered before sipping at her butterbeer. Her hair looked frizzier than ever, the strands having flown out of her hair tie in the act of shaking her head at all the toddler's absurd requests.
This was definitely not what any of them had in mind.
"I'll be back," Harry told them, leaving Ron to argue with Hermione while Lupin attempted to mediate.
He wound through the crowd of now angry students, muttering apologies, and carried Snape back past the bar. Madam Rosmerta shooed him through the back door and down the hall to the public bathroom. Harry thanked her before stepping inside.
The washroom was small, with only a single toilet, a porcelain sink with a silent mirror over it, and a hook on the door for robes. Harry stood Snape on the toilet, and Snape became fascinated with his reflection while Harry took off his own heavy robes. He hung them over the hook, rolled up the sleeves on his jumper, and went to work on taking Snape's coat off.
When Snape was finally ready to have his hands and face washed, Harry held him against his hip and began running the water. Snape whimpered a few times, gazing down doubtfully. "Don't worry – there's no shampoo," Harry said with a sigh.
Snape brightened, reaching down and splashing enough to get both of them wet. Harry, keeping a keen eye on Snape as he leaned against the sink, washed his hands first, and then rubbed the sticky goo off his glasses before starting on Snape. The toddler put up little resistance, surprisingly. Wordlessly allowing Harry to shove his sleeves up to his elbows and start working on his hands.
They were nearly finished, and Harry began wiping at Snape's mouth, when the toddler suddenly froze in his grasp. The little mouth was hung open, the eyes widened in horror, while the tiny body trembled. Harry drew back the cloth in alarm, wondering if he had someone gotten soap into Snape's eyes.
That's when the screams began.
Harry had heard just about every single form of Snape's screams. There were the angry ones, directed at Ron or Sirius. He'd shout words as well, usually indecipherable with his rage. There were the tantrum screams. Those just hurt the ears and made you willing to do just about anything to shut him up. He had screamed when he'd fallen on the stone floor when walking between Divinations and dinner, but that scream was more alarm then actual pain. He had cried for a while after being picked up and cooed over, but it was only a bruise on his elbow- nothing major.
But these screams were chilling. They struck straight to the heart, made it stop, and then got it beating at a racing pace. The only coherent thought Harry was capable of having as Snape continued to scream and scream was 'something was wrong.' Harry picked him up, thinking to sit down and hold him, but it just made Snape scream impossibly louder. It echoed in the tiny room, bouncing off the walls and seemed to never dissipate.
Harry began to panic. He had to figure out what was wrong and fix it, and he had to do it now. Shifting Snape's small body around in his arms, he searched for anything that might be causing him such pain. Nothing. No cuts, no red marks that signaled the beginnings of a bruise, and yet- every time he shifted Snape in his arms, the child's screams would pitch and get louder.
Snape's face was turning an angry red, and he paused only long enough to gasp for breath. The tears flowed like tiny rivers, not stopping. Harry began to be seriously frightened. He wondered if Snape had somehow broken a bone - because Harry couldn't find anything else on his back, legs, or head. It was as he checked his arm though, pushing the small sleeves up once more, that his own breath whooshed out as if physically punched from him.
The Dark Mark was black.
"Merlin," Harry breathed. The small entreaty was all but lost over Snape's screams. "Not now!"
There was nothing he could do. Harry felt at a complete loss, and it was a horrifying sensation. He clutched Snape against him, letting him scream right into his ear as he rubbed the silky black curls on the toddler's head, and murmured meaningless words of comfort. Even as he tried to sooth Snape, he felt a stirring of hatred and anger in his gut. Voldemort was doing this, and he had to know that Snape couldn't come to him.
It was tantamount to torture.
"What sort of sick monster…" Harry began, patting Snape's back when the toddler began choking on his own screams.
Snape wasn't quieting, and something had to be done. Harry would drug him if he had to, he couldn't allow Snape to suffer like this. "Dumbledore." He said to himself, standing with Snape still held against his chest. It was amazing no one had come to investigate the noise from the bathroom. If Harry hadn't been so worried, he might have wondered about the way the screams seemed confined as they bounced around the small room.
But the mark was burning the skin around it now, the skin itself bubbled grotesquely- turning into white welts that bled, and the blood turned dark and crusted the instant it hit the hot skin. Harry clenched his teeth and reached down for the werewolf doll Snape had dropped onto the floor.
The spell took him completely by surprise.
He hadn't even heard the door open with Snape screaming in his ear. He hadn't heard the hex being uttered until it was far too late to dodge it. Harry was knocked into the wall, his head slamming with a sick thud. His vision began to swim as he sunk slowly towards the floor, somehow still managing to hold onto Snape.
He blinked to try and clear it, and looked up- fully expecting to see Malfoy. He didn't.
"Max?" he slurred, dully turning his head to watch the Hufflepuff seventh year walk in. "What-?"
"Sorry Harry," Maxwell Boots replied, reaching into his robes and pulling out a white cloth. It had a bright blue stain in its center, and Terry's older brother placed it over Snape's mouth. Slowly, Snape's screams silenced, and the toddler's eyes fluttered shut. Maxwell drew it back and then directed it towards Harry's mouth.
"Don't…" Harry tried, his tongue feeling as heavy as his arm as he tried to swat Max's hand away, "Dumbledore…"
"Can't help you now. No one can," Max told him in a soft voice.
Then the sweet smell of nightshade was collecting at the back of his throat, and Harry's eyes began shutting on the bleary image of the Hufflepuff.
Harry's world went black.
**
A/N Deux: Cliffhangers- gotta hate 'em. You're all sitting there like "WHAT HAPPENS?! ARG!!! TELL ME NOW!!" You wanna know, eh? Spoiler lovers? Too bad. Muhahaha. My inner Snape says 'wait until next time you ingrates'. . Inner Snape said that, not me… o.0,,
NEXT TIME: Caves, journals, and Voldemort. Oh my!
**
Appendix 04652.415
Baby (Toddler?) Babble:
Pushunz- You don't know by now?
Sthupid Weezy - Stupid Weasley
Thli-th'n get cuph - Slytherin get cup.
Bah- Actually means bah. As in, bah humbug.
Mehrva pah meh- Minerva pay me. Sort of a little 'HP fan fic' inside thing.
Most of us fan writers agree Snape and McGonagall have running wagers on the House Cup.
Embahsil- Imbecil
Stowee- Story
PEPPAH- Peppy (The Happy Puppy)
Vampee- Vampy (Vampire)
No bah thweems- No bad dreams.
Thweems befo stowees- Dreams before stories.
Stowees funneh- Stories funny.
Weezy neeth 'tenchen- Weasley needs detention.
THEN POINTHS- Ten points!
Wofie- Wolfy, Snape's werewolf plushy. (credit to Loke Mei Yin for the name)
HORSIE- Horsy (Horse).
WIDE HORSIE! WIDE!- Ride horsy! Ride!
WEEEE- whee
Ithiut- Idiot
Sthupid Bak- Stupid Black
Mowon- Moron
Doo doo heth- Doo doo head
BAH BAK- Bad Black