This is a rather short chapter, compared to the previous one, and it is being posted a couple days sooner than I intended because I feel I must adress some of your reviews immediately.
First, I owe all of you an apology for not making these things clear at the beginning of the story. As soo as this is posted I am going to add an authors not to the beginning of chapter one.
This story is NOT a slash fic. I do not have anything against slash in particular (at least, nothing that I don't have against romance in general) and read it on occasion, but I cannot write slash any more than I can write more conventional romance. I apologize to all of you who thought this was a HP/SS fic.
This story IS a response to Severitus' Challenge. Essentially, the challenge is to write a stroy where Severus Snape is Harry Potter's father. The link to the challenge is http/ www. severitus. net/ thechallenge. htm (you'll have to remove the spaces.) I'm not entirely sure I'm going to meet all the criteria, since this is set mostly in the summer just now, but that's what I'm shooting for. Severitus herself is a very good author and I reccomend you check out her work. She's listed as one of my favourite authors (or will be in a few minutes.)
This story IS set just after fourth year (That would be just after the ending of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, hence the quoted/altered chapter at the beginning.) OotP and the events there in will play a minor role in this story but HBP will most definitely not come into play. I started this long before HBP came out and I do not want it to include spoilers. (Not to mention I'm still horribly scarred from reading HBP and am so far denying hte existance of the book. I am having even more trouble coping with this one than I did OotP)
I think I covered all the major issues, here are some quick responses, then the very short chapter that will, in a few days, be followed by a longer one.
juliedecarson and pazed: LOL, no I didn't put "That strange room" in for color! I'm going for a plot here! Also, there will be a bit of very subtle comic relief later on... maybe. That will have a larger impact on the story later on, I promise. In the mean time, just take it at face value.
starangel2106, obsessed-reader, mystiksnake and lady indis: I thought Neville being there was kind of random too, but like you I liked the idea and he plays a slightly more important role later on, so he had to show up now. (Sorry, I kind of turned him into a plot device) Neville was one of the few things I really liked about OotP, actually. That was one of those scenes that I wrote before I started the story and it just fit so well I had to include it.
Imperial Jedi: Thanks for making me laugh. I need that just now. I really can't accept the praise for updating regularly. (wince) I also write Star Wars fics. I have two going right now that I haven't updated since... too long, really. Hence the alter-ego. I'm not really ducking everyone, I started this profile long before I stopped writing the other one. It's just easier for me if I keep my two favourite fandoms separate. Really!
I was worried that Harry was too accepting, so I'm glad at least somebody liked that he went right back to Snape. No Gryffindor or Slytherin, for that matter) would have stayed away long. Still, that is not the end of this issue! (Read: Denial!) See above comments about Neville. :)
Munku-JGSPTV: I think you'll understand everything a lot better if you keep in mind that this is set just after Goblet of Fire, not Hal-Blood Prince. I started writing this long before HBP was released and will therefore completely ignore that book for the duration.
I'm very glad you are enjoying this story so much, I hope it continues to please!
Kitten-Lass: I'm afraid I owe you the biggest apology of all. I truly am sorry for the confusion. I know exactly how you feel, though that had to have been some surprise! (wink) I went back and read over my summary and opening chapters and yes, you are right, this does very much seem like HP/SS if one misses the Severitus' Challenge comment in the summary. I rather thought that was self-explaintory and I tdidn't occur to me to include anything else. I am going back and adding an A/N to chapter one that should eliminate any further confusion for future readers.
I'm glad you are enjoying my story anyway and I sincerely hope I don't have any more nasty surprises in there for you. I honestly didn't mean to do that. (Though now i have to wonder, I never thought I was very good at writing slash... but there may be hope for me yet.)
To everyone else: I am sure I havent' listed everyone, you all are so kind with all your reviews, but in hopes of not making this note longer than the chapter, I have to stop here. Thank you for all your kind words and encouragement, it means a lot to me.
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Chapter Six
Harry shook with the cold deep inside him. It wasn't a physical cold, but rather, a deep seated feeling of loss and despair that no fire or pile of quilts could help relieve. This was wrong, deep down, he knew this was wrong. How could such a thing be right?
It was bad enough when they became real people. Yes, it hurt to lose the idols he'd held for so long, but he'd been able to find peace with the fact that they had been hum. This was too much.
The corridors were black as Harry crept through th em feeling utterly alone and lost. Never in his life, even at the hands of the Dursleys, had he felt quite so alone in the world. Everyone he knew seemed so distant...
Harry walked forlornly down the hollow, dark, cold corridors for what seemed like hours until he felt as if he couldn't take another step. Still in the pitch black, he reached out to find the stone wall he knew was nearby.
Suddenly, as if it had been waiting for him to reach out, the castle brightened. A warm, golden light illuminated stone walls, tapestries, and paintings. A soft breeze through the corridor, brining warmth where there had been none.
As his fingers touched the wall, Harry felt an arc of power. He started to jerk his hand back, but instead pressed it toward the stone block.
Borrowed strength helped him straighten his shoulders and keep moving. He started toward the middle of the corridor, but weakened when he tried to move under his own power. He simply wasn't strong enough just now to hand this on his own.
Harry heard a soft voice calling him back and he reached for the wall again, trailing his fingers along the stone so that he could keep moving without having to be alone.
When Harry woke it was to the bright morning sunlight streaming through the drapes he had forgotten to close. He knew he had been dreaming, but all he could remember was a series of feelings, which weren't particularly helpful.
The dream kind of reminded him of the secret room he'd found the day before, though he wasn't sure why he'd be dreaming about an empty room with strange winds.
Harry sighed at the thought and climbed out of bed. He dressed with reluctance and waited to be brought breakfast. He'd decided early on that it was easier to be patient with Snape on a full stomach.
He frowned at the thought. He did not want to think about Snape today. He wasn't sure he wanted to think about Snape ever again. He certainly didn't want to see him...
But he really didn't have a choice.
Harry swore, then caught himself and looked around guiltily. Remembering that he was alone here except for the Greasy Git Harry frowned and swore again. This was not going to work.
Searching his room, looking for anything to occupy his time, Harry tried several books, polishing his broom, and flipping through his photo album. The last one turned out to be a mistake as he nearly threw it across the room in anger. He was considering going back to swearing when Dobby appeared with an over loaded breakfast try.
Harry thanked the little elf as politely as he could manage, but it must have come out gruff as Dobby stopped before leaving. The little elf looked Harry over carefully, then nodded as if making a decision.
"Is Harry Potter, sir, feeling well?"
The question made Harry pause. "I got some rather disturbing news yesterday, Dobby, but I'm otherwise fine."
"Harry Potter, sir, is not eating his dinner last night," Dobby said in a timid tone.
Harry sighed. "I guess I just wasn't hungry."
So far, Harry hadn't sent the elf away, so Dobby took this as permission to continue his inquiry. "May Dobby ask what is bothering Harry Potter, sir?"
Harry focussed on the little elf. "It's complicated, Dobby."
The little elf seemed determined not to take such a vague answer. "Dobby wants to help Harry potter but Dobby isn't knowing how."
That was a rather disturbing thought to Harry, who picked at the fruit on his breakfast tray. Dobby's help had been... Well, less than helpful in the past, though the little elf had saved Harry during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament.
Still, that was one thing. Dobby had nearly killed Harry too many times before that.
Although, the difference between the time Dobby saved Harry and the times he tried and failed were that the little elf had more information during the Tournament.
Dobby was still standing in the middle of the room wringing his hands in his knobby jumper. This bothered Harry, though he was also standing. After a moment, Harry sat in the desk chair and pulled the second chair from next to the wall with his foot.
"Alright, I'll tell you what's bothering me on two conditions. First, you can't tell anyone. And second, you have to sit down."
Dobby looked horrified at both stipulations. "Harry Potter is a great wizard! Dobby is never telling Harry Potter's secrets!"
Harry cut off additional rambling. "Good, then sit down."
The elf looked particularly disturbed at that. "But... Harry Potter is a great wizard... Dobby isn't..."
Harry sighed and nudged the chair with his foot. "Please, Dobby? I would make me feel better."
The little elf climbed into the chair and sat expectantly. Unfortunately, now Harry was obliged to tell the story he didn't even want to think about. He sighed heavily, then decided to simply begin at the beginning.
Harry told the whole story, from the moment he stepped into the dungeons yesterday evening to the moment he returned to his room. Dobby looked ready to burst into tears at the though and was wringing his jumper harder than ever. The little elf bit his lip as Harry came to the end of his tale.
"Harry Potter must be knowing... Dobby is unsure how to say. Professor Snape is not a great wizard, Harry Potter, sir..."
Old habit were, apparently, hard to break because Dobby clamped a hand over his mouth fearfully and looked as if he were about to reach for something heavy.
"It's al right, Dobby, I know already." Harry sighed. "I don't think you can help, Dobby, but it was nice to talk about this with you."
"Oh, but Dobby can help!" The little elf said proudly.
Harry looked surprised and Dobby stoo don the chair, putting him at eye level for the still seated teenager. "Dobby is knowing the room Harry Potter speaks of. It is the centre most room in Hogwarts. When Hogwarts was built, this room was the library. It was where all important things in the castle happened."
"Important things?"
Dobby nodded. "Dobby is not knowing more than that. We is not going in that room. It is warded so only some are allowed in. Harry Potter must be a great wizard indeed if he is going inside that room!"
Harry sighed. "That's just lovely. One more thing about me that's just weird."
Dobby frowned. "Harry Potter mustn't say that. Harry Potter is a great wizard."
"I certainly don't feel like a great wizard."
"Maybe Harry Potter shouldn't be talking to Dobby. Perhaps Harry Potter should be talking to his father?"
Harry sighed, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh, no! He cried. The clock read, 'You Are Very, Very Late!'
"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said, grabbing a slice of toast to eat on the way. "But I'm late! I'll see you later?"
The elf nodded and gathered up the tray, disappearing in a wist of smoke. Harry ran from the room and down the corridor towards the dungeons.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Harry arrived in the classroom more than fifteen minutes late for his morning examination. Snape, however, said not a word. Harry climbed onto the low table, following the routine they had already set.
Knowing he hadn't checked it the night before, Snape took extra time this morning to see what had changed.
Of course, the difference was minimal, it was only by comparing results from several days earlier that he could see any change at all. Change was, however, happening.
The first time he had examined these spells, Snape had seen a cloak with a tear down the side. Now, with the over-view provided by Lily's letter, he was able to see deeper into the spells.
The rent in the spell work was as much a flaw in the original design as it was damage. You could only make so many alterations to a garment before the fabric would no longer take any stress. Lily had built in plenty of adjustment, but the Headmaster's original alterations had used up most of that leeway.
The charms that were breaking down now were the protection spells, thankfully. The appearance charms were in a slightly more stable position, though they were also deteriorating.
The viewing spell ended and snape found himself studying the boy in front of him, instead.
Po- The boy, was simply lying on the table with his eyes closed, as if the mere sight of his potions teacher was too much for him at the moment.
Dark hair, large glasses, that annoyingly stubborn jawlines...
Lily's nose, thankfully. That was Potter's round face, though. Lily's nose and Lily's eyes. The rest... The rest ...
He cut off that line of thought. He had, originally, been thinking that the rest was Potter's, but in a couple of months, perhaps even in a few weeks, it may not be so. In that time, the boy would likely come to resemble his natural father as opposed to the adopted one.
That line of thought was not going to help matters any.
While he regarded the boy, th subject of his examinations raised a hand to his mouth and sneezed. The boy lowered his hand, which Snape saw did indeed hold a handkerchief, and shook his head, as if to clear it.
"Sorry."
Snape cleared his throat. "Quite understandable."
He re-incanted the spell, only to let it die again. The boy's physical features were so much more interesting at the moment.
Unavoidably, his gaze was drawn to the boy's forehead. The messy black hair had fallen away from his face, fully revealing the mark.
Walking around the table to better see it, he studied the famous scar in detail. It seemed so insignificant when one simply looked at it. Just a mark, a flaw, a blemish on otherwise unbroken skin.
The straight line that crossed it seemed more significant than the original mark. In many types of notation, putting a straight line through a symbol negated it. In others, that same line emphasized the importance of said symbol. In potions, crossing out a section meant you were abandoning all previous efforts and starting over from formula.
Unable to restrain himself, Severus reached out and lifted a stray lock of hair from the boy's forehead. He ran one long finger down the thin line that crossed the lightning scar.
The boy's eyes flew open as he shuddered. No, that wasn't right. The boy actually shivered, as if cold or terribly frightened. Or distraught.
"Please don't." The boy's voice shook as he spoke.
Severus wanted to hit himself. He should have known better than to do such a thing. He had very definitely invaded the boy's personal space at a time when he most likely needed a bit more of it than usual. Touching him that way was out of line. It was far too personal for their current state of tolerance.
"I apologize. I wasn't thinking."
The boy's frown deepened, but he closed his eyes and nodded his acceptance.
"May I go now?"
"Yes, you may. Please return this evening?"
The boy nodded again, his eyes still closed. He stood, not looking at Snape, and left the room as quickly as possibly with out obviously hurrying.
Snape returned to his desk and began writing out and organizing his notes, hoping to regain some semblance of control before the evening session.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Harry found he felt better while wandering the corridors. There was no mistake about that. He wasn't sure why, he was wandering aimlessly, but he still felt better.
That last session wish Snape had been pure torture. He'd tried everything to avoid thinking about the man. In the end he'd resorted to simply lying there and imagining that he was anywhere else.
Hermione had introduced he and Ron to the game "Anywhere but here" the previous year. Harry had never heard of it before, but he was very familiar with the way one played. He'd done it a million times as a child. He'd spent unlimited hours inside that little cupboard imagining that he was somewhere else. He'd been on that lovely beach that was featured in the commercials on the television that week. He'd raced horses across empty fields like in the story they'd read in class. He'd ridden on a flying motorcycle with a giant...
"No, wait, that one had been a dream he'd had as a child.
It didn't matter, in the end. Harry didn't care what he thought of as long as he was thinking of something else.
That had, most likely, been the problem. His wild imagining had taken him back to the cupboard under the stairs. Harry had, mentally, been ten years old again, not knowing that magic existed. He hadn't known that magic existed. He hadn't known he was special. He hadn't known his parents had been heroes.
Which was why Snape's touch had been so terrifying.
For a few terrible moments, he had forgotten everything. Including the letter from the previous night. He'd been thinking about being alone in that dark cupboard with nothing to look forward to except more of the same and then he'd felt a warm hand on his forehead. A gently, almost caring touch running across his skin.
In that roaming state of mind, he had flashed back to imagined caresses on those dark, dark nights. He'd fallen back to hoping to be rescued, wanting that imagined reassurance to be real.
Harry scuffed his shoes along the hall. He hated that. He had thought he'd finally gotten over that hoping. He had thought he had finally grown beyond that. Hoping for things like that only caused you to be disappointed when they didn't happen. He had no parents. He had no family. It was impossible.
But then, how had he felt it so clearly?
Harry scoffed. Of course Snape hadn't meant anything of the sort. His imagination had run away with him and he'd allowed it to do so.
Harry kicked a suit of armour and was gratified with the lough crash it made when he knocked the shield out of it's grasp. The armour seemed to glare at him, however, so Harry sheepishly picked the shield back up and handed it back.
With a frown, Harry kicked a stone wall instead. This was much less satisfying, but the walls didn't glare at him. Pretty soon, however, he realized he would ruin his trainers at this rate and he gave up on that as well.
His face had that overly warm feeling like he might cry and Harry knew that wouldn't do at all. Instead, he ran. Up several staircases, down the hallway past the entrance to the Gryffindor common rooms. He mostly ignored where he was going, he simply wanted to run and Hogwarts had plenty of empty corridors that were perfect for running in.
Finally, he began to feel more tired than tense and figured he could probably mange himself now.
Harry searched for distraction where ever he happened to be and almost failed to find it. His mind immediately jumped on trying to figure out why running always made him feel better. Of course the answer was because running usually got him away from Dudley's gang. Which would have immediately brought him back around to thinking about the Dursleys.
So Harry cut off the thought-loop harshly by examining the corridor he was currently in.
Somehow, even though he distinctly remembered passing it, Harry was in the corridor that led to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
There were very few portraits in this part of the castle. The ones that were here seemed to be the most anti-social of the bunch as they rarely showed up in their frames. It was just as well, really. This corridor didn't really lead anywhere.
In any other building, Harry might have questioned a corridor that led nowhere, but in Hogwarts he simply assumed it used to lead somewhere or that it would, someday, go somewhere.
At least, he had until now. Now, Harry wondered about the corridor.
He searched the paintings, but all were vacant. They most likely wouldn't have been much help anyway. The portraits seemed to know everything about the castle, but most were stark-raving mad.
Harry examined the thoroughly plain corridor and, finally, gave in a cast a revealing spell on the wall near the end.
Much to Harry's surprise, a faint blue outline appeared on the wall. Obviously a door.
With a grin, Harry immediately started in on every opening and unlocking spell he knew. It was a short list, but rather thorough. Still the wall did not move and sat down, perplexed.
Could it be that this was simply a wall? No secret passage involved?
But that just didn't feel right.
Finally, feeling silly but thinking it couldn't hurt, Harry leaned toward the wall and said, "May I pass?"
And the wall opened. The false panel swung inward and torches lit as Harry stepped through. Once inside, the wall swung closed again and Harry looked around.
He was standing on a wooden platform at the top of a deep, deep shaft. In front of him stood a pulley system with thick ropes trailing into the darkness below. The single torch near the door did not illuminate more than a few feet beyond the platform he stood on.
With some curiosity, Harry pulled the rope through the pulley. Once he had taken up the slack, the rope wouldn't move much more and he tugged hard. It finally gave way and, with a little effort, Harry managed to raise a small platform. It was not-quite two metres square and had no railings of any sort. Ropes were attached at each corner, twisting into a single cord that ran through the pulley.
The return cord fell through a hole cut in the wood making Harry realize it was designed to be operated while standing on it. Trusting it to hold, Harry stepped forward onto the wooden lift and let out a sigh of relief when it did not go plummeting down. It was obviously counter balanced or held with some sort of charm.
He slowly fed the cord through the gap, watching as the light from the platform faded. As he was engulfed in darkness, Harry began lowering the platform faster, until he realized the shaft was lightening again. In relief, he let go the rope and felt the platform stop. A few more light pulls and he was on level with a second platform.
He stepped off and found the door, which was obvious on this side.
Harry frowned. He was in the dungeons. Again.
Why did every single secret he found in this castle lead him back to the dungeons?
Harry sighed, pushing back at the flood of emotions and thoughts that threatened his mind. He trudged back up the stairs, determined not to end up back in the dungeons until after dinner.
That evening, Harry's examination was conducted quickly, efficiently, and the boy was dismissed immediately.
