Disclaimer: I do not own HP. I repeat, I do NOT own HP. But, of course, you lot know this, right? If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.
Serpens Erus Temptatio
"Serpent Lord's Temptation"
Chapter 11 – Shines Into the DarkestSunday morning was a dark, gloomy day. It was as though the weather had begun to reflect the moods of the three wizards who had been on a vigil in the hospital wing since the night before.
Harry was the only one of the three currently awake. He had finally fallen asleep after sprawling across the bed next to the one Severus had taken up occupancy of.
As he sat up and rolled over onto his back, he glanced over at his friend and smiled. Severus was lying propped up on three pillows, his head tilted slightly to the right. Tristen had curled up against his father's side, head pillowed on the narrow chest. Harry watched at Tristen's head bobbed up and down with Severus' every breath and smiled at the sight of the strong arms that enveloped the eleven-year-old.
Hopping off the bed, he straightened his rumpled shirt and jeans with a muttered charm then ran a hand through his wild hair. Another charm summoned a thin strip of leather from his rooms and he tied his long hair back in a loose tail.
It was only then that he turned towards the curtained off area. He stared at it for a long time before his feet began to slowly drag him towards it. By the time he reached it, his hands were shaking.
Slowly, he reached up and pushed the curtain aside, looking through it at his friend. The only one left of the original Gryffindor Trio besides himself.
Hermione's beautiful face was covered in dark bruises, which Harry had learned was a side-effect of a Cruciatus overdose. Underneath them, she was pale – paler than Severus' natural paleness, even. Her skin was chalk white and – to Harry's horror – he noticed that her luminous cloud of bushy brown hair now had streaks of stark white. They stood out horribly against the brown that remained and he felt sick with the sight.
His friend was lying there, possibly never to be herself again, and he could do nothing about it. None of them could.
They could only pray and hope.
It made Harry feel like he had after Ginny had died. Though to not quite the same degree.
A sudden sound behind him caused Harry to drop the curtain and whirl about. Fire swirled about the pads of his fingertips but he then saw Tristen's dark head lifting and relaxed. He took a deep breath and attempted to loosen the suddenly taut bones of his spine.
"Morning," he said softly, catching his godson's attention.
"Mornin'," mumbled Tristen with a yawn. He then carefully extracted himself from his father's arms, settling the man's arms in his lap and pulling the slightly rumpled sheet up to cover him. When he looked back at his godfather, there was a small smile on the man's face. "What?"
"You just reminded me a little of Mione. She used to do that whenever he fell asleep on the couch in the common room during seventh year."
Tristen smiled sadly and looked at the curtained off area. Harry gave a shiver and said in a slightly too loud voice, "What do you say we get some breakfast?"
"It's not even seven," Tristen pointed out.
"Hence the reason I intended to head down to the kitchens and asked Dobby if he could scrounge the three of us up something." Harry frowned and nodded at the boy's rumpled attire. "We'll need to fix those clothes though…"
"I can't change…"
"No need," said Harry, waving a hand at the bed beside him. There was a sparkle of diamond-like motes and then a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt appeared. Tristen stared at them for a moment, not used to his godfather using his magic in such a fashion.
"Uncle…"
"What?"
"Didn't you say you didn't use wandless magic unless it was an emergency?"
Harry waved a hand absently and said, "I've been using it more often than not as of late. Now get dressed. If we nip down to the kitchens quickly, we might manage to get back before that father of yours wakes up."
"Okay," said Tristen, jerking the curtain around the bed the clothes were lying on closed. Harry heard the rustling of cloth and heaved a sigh. His gaze wandered back towards the curtains that hid Hermione's still body. Quickly, he turned away and found himself looking down at a changed Tristen.
The boy's dark hair was spiking wildly and Harry smoothed it down with a muttered charm.
"Ready?"
"Yes," came the reply and Harry steered the boy out of the wing.
"Does Harry Potter need anything else?"
"No, Dobby," said Harry, grinning down at the house-elf. He chuckled as Tristen gaped widely at the two plates the elves had filled with food. "This will be quite enough."
Dobby bobbed happily then he gave Tristen a sobered glance that Harry had never seen from the elf.
"We all is hoping that Miss will get well," whispered the elf, his huge green eyes goggling up at Harry.
The Heir of Slytherin smiled tiredly and said, "Thank you, Dobby."
"Anything for you, Harry Potter, sir."
Dobby bobbed once more before he turned and continued helping the other house-elves to fix the breakfast for the rest of the school. Harry sent the two plates (and the accompanying goblets and pitcher of orange juice) off to the hospital wing with a wave of his hand. They winked out of existence, causing Tristen to blink for a moment before he realized what had happened.
Harry then laid a hand on his godson's shoulder and they too disappeared. When they reappeared in the hospital wing, Tristen gasped, "There's no Apparating in Hogwarts!"
The older wizard chuckled and said, "Its not really Apparating. Just a trick I picked up from Sal. Or should I say, I picked up the basics from Sal. Took me three years to perfect it."
"Can I learn?"
"When your older."
Tristen scowled and started to sulk then thought better of it when Harry gave him a reproachful look.
"What do you call it?" he asked instead.
Harry looked thoughtful as he filled two of the goblets with orange juice.
"Well," he began, "Sal always referred to it as Place Changemogrification. Don't ask why, he just did. I've taken to call it Blinking."
"Why?" asked Tristen around a cream-filled pastry.
"Don't talk with your mouth full. And because, once you get it right and practice enough, you only need to focus on a certain place – or person, thing, etc. – and put a little effort into it before you just blink your eyes and – bam! you're there."
"Wicked," breathed Tristen. "Is effort magic?"
Harry grinned broadly and nodded.
"Good boy! It is indeed. And I'm not going to explain anymore to you. I don't think the Ministry would be very happy to have an eleven-year-old popping up randomly all over the country. I wouldn't want an eleven-year-old popping up randomly about the country. Especially not one whose…"
"…your godson," finished Tristen before taking a large bite of another pastry. "Yeh, Ah know."
"Watch your tongue, imp," croaked Severus suddenly as he limped over. Harry's eyes narrowed as he noticed the limp and thoughts of revenge swirled about his head.
"And stop scowling, Harry," added the bandaged man as he dropped into a chair. "You look like me."
"Is that a bad thing?" asked Harry, handing his friend one of the chocolate-filled pastries.
"Thank you. And that depends on who your scowling at." Severus took a bite of the pastry and let out a low moan. "Oh, gods, I forgot what Hogwarts food tasted like."
"The house-elves have been getting cooking lessons from Sal."
"Your joking."
"Not in the slightest. He told me so when I last visited him."
"Is he still crazy?"
"Sev, he's a statue and he's all alone in a huge chamber with no company except for me and the occasional house-elf. Of course he's crazy."
"Who are you two talking about?" asked Tristen, not understanding one bit of the conversation.
Harry sighed and explained, "Sal is short for Salazar Slytherin, my ancestor. There is a statue of him in the Chamber of Secrets, which we discovered can talk. Well…the statue, not the Chamber."
"And from which we discovered you were the Heir of Slytherin," added Severus.
"Right."
"So, how's your new relationship?"
Harry nearly spat out the piece of blueberry muffin in his mouth and choked instead. He slammed his fist against his spine for a few moments before he coughed and peered through teary eyes at his friend.
"What was that?" he gasped.
Severus gave him a lidded look and repeated, "Your relationship. I hear tell you have a new one."
Harry scowled and fixed Tristen with a glare.
"Tristen Amadeus Oberon Snape…"
"I didn't mean to tell!" whined Tristen. "Honestly!"
Harry growled and ran a hand over his face. He then looked at Severus, who was grinning slightly at him.
"You find this amusing, don't you?"
"Yes. I'm also happy for you." The dark eyes flicked towards the curtained off area and the light in them dimmed. "You have someone again. That's good."
Harry leaned over slightly and caught his friend's gaze. He held it steadily, trying not to give the curtains a sad glance as well.
"We're going to get her back, Sev."
"You don't know that," said the other wizard softly.
"Mischa will find something," said Harry determinedly. "She's the best I've ever seen at Charms."
Severus arched an eyebrow and Tristen mumbled, "Miss Tatchya."
"Ah."
"Humphf," snorted Harry, glaring mildly at his godson. He then ate his muffin in silence, the other man and young boy eating their pastries in the self-same silence.
Outside, it began to rain.