characer is having a dream
reguler dialogue and narrative
Severus saw the look on Harry's face and asked simply, "Can you write it?" The boy nodded a positive. Harry unsteadily sat up. The Captain crossed the room in no more than a few strides. He found what he was looking for, returning with a quill, a book to press down on, and a scrap of parchment. He handed the inked quill and the rest to the boy. With a shaking hand, the boy wrote out "Harry" as Severus watched over his shoulder. It seemed that this child Harry, he now knew, was intelligent. Severus had the feeling that with some extra food and a lot of time he would be all right. It worried him though when he thought back to when Harry had tried to speak and nothing came out. It was rare when it happened, but he had heard of it. Sometimes in extreme situations the brain shut down things that the body would not need to survive. Usually it was the senses, most common was sight. Sometimes it would take less then a few days to regain, but sometimes that person would never regain that faculty. Fear still showed across the boy's face, and he was probably making it worse with the quiet.
"Don't worry. No one will hurt you here," he thought for a second, "I promise." Harry looked at him with what Snape thought was wonder.
"Are you hungry? You know it has been about three days since you were taken off the other ship." That got a raised eyebrow from the boy. As if in response, Harry tried to work the quill, but the ink had dried. Harry glanced at Severus and then the desk. He shakily sat on the bed. He tried to stand a second later to find that he had to clutch the edge of the bed for support. His thin chest was rasping for breath with the small exertion. Severus put his arm around Harry's shoulders and tried to get him to lie back down, but Harry would only sit instead. He caught his breath and tried harder. At first the Captain had tried to help, but the boy shook his head. He had to lean against the wall so that he could stay on his feet. After what seemed like hours he finally reached the desk. He gave a grateful sigh as he fell, literally, into the chair.
Before he never realized how they had to drag him more and more onto the deck. It usually came to the point where he couldn't walk back after a few months. He cringed at the thought. He didn't want to think of that. He put his head in his hands, closed his eyes and tried to get rid of the thoughts. It only made more follow in its wake. Soon he was shaking again, but this time not with exhaustion.
Harry was really scared. The man that his father trusted had agreed to sell him to a rich man, a very rich man. The one that his father trusted, even paid a large sum to, was going to sell him. He did not like the other man. Something about him screamed wrong. As hard as he tried, he could not convince the first not to leave. As soon as the first was out of sight, his new "owner" grabbed his wrist and pulled hard, dragging him behind. He was taken to a ship by the name of "The Queen." That was when he became accustomed to his new life.
He was being shaken. "Come on kid, wake up. It is only a dream." Relief flooded Severus's face when Harry's eyes fluttered open. Harry let out a breath. It wasn't a dream, it was a bad memory, and it was by far one of the nicer ones. He shivered at the thought.
"Alright, no more exertion for you. You become too tired," Harry could tell that the captain was trying to lighten the mood. He nodded, but before he was helped across the room, he grabbed the bottle of ink. Just in case. Snape helped him stumble back across the room. It did not take nearly as long.
"So what was with the whole ink thing?" asked Snape.
Harry thought before he wrote down 'What day is it?' He looked up at Severus when he was finished; he really just wanted to know how long he had been on that ship. He knew he was twelve when he was sold, but he had no idea how old he was now.
Severus started muttering under his breath as he walked back to his desk. He started rifling through his papers. James kept a calendar somewhere. "Ah. Today is the 28th of May."
Harry had not realized that he had been holding his breath until he let it out. He gestured for the man to come back. 'Year?' He wrote down then handed the now useless piece of paper to him. There was no more room.
"What year?" the Captain asked then answered his own question, "Oh, um, 1779."
Harry came to the conclusion that he had been on that ship for more than two years. His shoulders visibly drooped. He would never get that time back.
Severus tried to distract the child before he went deeper and deeper into his melancholy. "Who taught you to write?" He regretted it the minute he said it. What little control Harry had left broke. He watched the silent tears role down Harry's face, his shoulders shaking and his hands trying to cover his face, lest he show a weakness. Severus tried to comfort him as best he could, but not really knowing what to do, he just put his hand on the child's shoulder. They stayed like that for some time. One learning to give comfort, the other learning to receive it.
It wasn't long before the kid had gone to sleep. It wasn't peaceful, but it was a start. Even the few nights before, the boy had tossed and turned. He was never allowed to feel the better sides of emotion, happiness, joy, love, it seemed. They never touched the young face with the old lines. True, they seemed to not be cut as deep as before, but no child should have eyes that show innocence lost. And he knew that no matter how hard he tried, it was something no one could bring back.
Severus watched the body stretch and convulse on the bed. If he always slept like that, it was no small wonder that he seemed to be tired. Still though, restless sleep was better then no sleep. He left then. He had some duties involving the ship to attend to.
Harry was being pulled from the hull. The large man thrust him forward into the hands of Master. People were crowded around. It meant that today was an example day.
Then the wild accusations began. They could never be proved but they couldn't be disproved either. How he had somehow escaped and stole food or how he had cut some of the rope again. Master said he was a snake, not the dove his face made him to be. Master said he would fix that. Because the others watched though, Master would be less violent then usual. Not by much though. The beating started as the words still corrupted the air. A fist to the stomach made the faces blur and dissolve into sharp black shadows. Then they all disappeared.
Harry was held by two gruff sailors. His back felt like it was falling off as the whip split the air once again, then smacked his skin. He was so tired. Harry hoped Master stopped soon. He lost consciousness then. It was too much.
Snape watched as Harry jerked awake and gasped for air. He lit a candle and stood from the chair. The boy noticed and squirmed away as far as possible. He did not know where he was, it seemed. "Harry, it's me Captain Snape. We found you on another ship four days ago," he spoke as he racked his brain to think of anything else he could say to the child, "um, I took you onto my ship instead, The Rogue." Severus realized that the talking was helping. The shivers were not as strong as they were when he had first awoken.
It still took almost thirty minutes to stop the shaking entirely. Talking to him helped, even if he couldn't talk back. He realized that Harry just needed some type of human contact that did not fall to violence. That gave him an idea.
"Come on, I want to show you something," Severus reached his hand to the child and helped him across the room out onto the deck. It took a lot of work but by the look on Harry's face it was well worth it.
Tonight the sky was dazzlingly clear. The deep blackness was pierced with the white light of billions of stars. The crescent moon reflected silver on the gentle waves that hit the sides of the ship.
Harry actually gasped. It had been so long since he had seen the stars. He was never let out at night. His night was his life below the ship. It lacked the same beauty; nothing could capture what he saw before him. It was a miracle that he was not supposed to witness. Evil can only corrupt the beautiful. The one thought fluttered across his mind so quickly that it startled him. He jerked from Severus's grip and stumbled along the deck until he reached the door. Harry tried to open it but it was so heavy.
Snape opened the door for him with a look of confusion. 'No,' he shook his head when the captain offered his hand; he was struggling to cross the room. It became harder and harder to move his feet. A moment later his legs gave out and his knees hit the hard wood with a thud. He couldn't do this anymore. How could he live? He didn't deserve to. It was simple.