Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Backstory 01 : All Through the Night

Chapter Five : Dreams You Dream Can't Break From Thunder

6 December 2003 (Continued)

Perrin had decided a long time ago that hope was a terrible thing, full of disappointment and sometimes just bad luck.

Like when he'd wanted a puppy as a kid and his dad, against his mother's protests, had said 'maybe', but then he'd died before that 'maybe' had become a 'yes' even though Perrin had hoped it would. Or when he'd hoped he would be enough for his mother, but he obviously hadn't been enough because she'd married Tony. And Him. Every night he'd pray to the God his mother had told him about (who never listened to him anyway), hoping that his stepfather would die, or go away, or even just leave him alone. But he never did.

Then the letter had come from Hogwarts. He'd not dared hope that it would be any different than any other place, but he'd been wrong, it was wonderful, and he'd reckoned that the reason it stayed that way was because he hadn't hoped for anything more than what he'd had. He hadn't hoped for friends, but he had Becky. Hadn't hoped for much of anything, except maybe that an owl would come flying into the Great Hall just for him with a letter from his mother, or that Tony would die and he and his mother could be alone again--that was always nice to think about, but there it was. He'd hoped and it never happened.

He'd also decided a long time ago that wanting something might be all right, though. The first time Tony had beat him, he'd wanted to go far away and never come back, and here he was, although that could end at any time. He'd never wanted his mother dead, not really, but he'd thought it one time and now she was. Dead. Becky had told him this morning that 'dead' meant she was never coming back. Well, of course, he knew that, didn't he? Dad had 'died' and he never came back, but that was so long ago, he almost didn't remember.

No one had let him see his dad until they'd taken him to this room smelling of too many flowers with all these people wearing black and talking in hushed voices like they were in church. And his 'dad' had been in this box lined with slippery white fabric, in his best Sunday suit. But he'd never really been certain that the man in the box was really his dad. His father never wore his hair all slicked back, nor was his face ever that fat and the colour of it was all wrong.

But someone had lifted him up so he could touch the icy hand near the edge of the box--his dad's hands had never been cold unless he'd dashed out of the warm house into the snow without his coat or gloves to get the post. When he did that, he'd come back in and, laughing, would put his hand on his mother's neck just to make her shriek. Then he'd kiss it, to make it warm, he'd say. Then they'd make that look, the one that always made him feel warm inside.

But that day, the hand was still and there'd been no laughter and the man's eyes were closed and his mother was crying. So that couldn't be his dad. When he'd tried to tell everyone there'd been a mistake and they needed to go find him, his mother had hugged him hard, crying, telling him that she wished he was right, but he wasn't.

And last night? No, that was one thing he was absolutely certain of now. If the woman lying so still on the bed had been his mother, then the man in the box had been his father. His mother was dead, too. He shivered, feeling again her cold hand under his cheek last night. It was still cold and he wasn't certain it would ever get warm again. He felt cold all over. And he was tired, so tired, even with the sleeping potions Madam Pomfrey had given him.

He looked over at the two men sitting across the table from him. They were still holding hands and wasn't that a strange thing? Becky had tried to tell him once that they were married, but he'd thought she was teasing him. Now he wasn't so sure. He seen them share the look--the same one his mum and dad had whenever they were discussing something (usually him) without saying anything out loud. And he'd seen them together almost every night at dinner sitting next to each other, but blokes didn't get married. Did they?

Harry he knew from seeing him around the castle and he'd come to visit him the couple of times he'd been in the infirmary. He always had a nice smile and kind eyes and even seemed interested in the little things and he remembered stuff. Like how he liked his chocolate ice cream with fudge topping and no nuts. He'd asked Dobby the house-elf to bring them both a bowl the last time he'd been in here because of his tonsils and when Madam Pomfrey had caught them, Harry had just laughed at her scolding and offered her a spoonful.

Last night was the first time he hadn't seen Harry smile, but his hand had been so warm on his back; it had been nice. He'd looked so sad, like he was really sorry. He looked really tired this morning with his eyes all puffy like he'd just woke up. But he liked peanut butter and grape jam--that had to count for something--and he'd liked the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about cutting the crusts behind Aunt Petunia's back. Maybe she was the aunt who had raised him. He remembered Harry had once said something about being an orphan. Maybe he would understand about his mum.

Professor Snape was another matter altogether. He used to be terrified of him (well, he still was--just a little), but ever since that day a couple of months ago when he almost ran into him and Harry in the hallway, things had been--different--between them. Professor Snape didn't yell as much anymore and took the time to explain things when he came to him after class and had let him partner with Becky, his best friend, when he'd assigned everyone else. But that didn't mean he didn't growl or stand over you while you stirred a potion until your stomach felt sore or glare at you with that raised eyebrow thing he had (and how did he do that?) when he handed back your paper like you'd insulted him or something.

It was odd seeing the Potions master today with his face all soft, well not exactly, but certainly not as sharp as it normally was. And when he wasn't staring at you like he could see right through you when you messed up in his class, he had really nice eyes, not pretty or anything, but--well--solid and aware--like he was someone who'd seen everything there was to see and who you could depend on for just about anything. And for some reason, Perrin felt safe with him. It had been the easiest thing to take his hand when they'd Floo'd back to Hogwarts--he had warm hands, too, not at all cold like he'd thought they would be.

They weren't like any other adults he'd ever met. They'd never lied to him, they didn't talk to him like he was an infant, and they admitted when they were wrong instead of finding a way to make it his fault. Now they were telling him that they were his guardians and that Perrin could be a part of a family and well rid of Tony--all his Christmas wishes rolled up into one. Wishes didn't count as hoping, did they? It wasn't like he was hoping for anything he could have, right? And they were the ones offering--he wasn't asking.

He didn't know what he thought anymore. His head felt fuzzy and he wished he hadn't eaten, but he usually did what he was told. Not that he really wanted to, but he'd found it was easier that way. He was tired of everyone telling him what to do or what was best for him, and he wasn't too sure if this latest revelation meant he had to do it. Not that he didn't want to, but he'd for once like someone to tell him he had a choice.

The silence stretched for what seemed like hours before Perrin murmured thoughtfully, "A choice. That would be nice for once." Startled by his own voice in the silence, Perrin looked up guiltily, expecting censure from the men in front of him, but instead found only puzzlement and concern. And it made him wonder. Was it possible to hope and want and wish and have it come true?

Just once maybe?

Harry was watching, though not openly. Perrin had been silently sitting there so long, Harry was starting to get sleepy thoughts from Severus even though a quick glance confirmed that his eyes were open. For a few seconds he debated sending something really obnoxious to wake his husband up, but something must have 'leaked' because Severus squeezed his hand warningly with a very graphic picture of what he would do if Harry did so. Since hammer, nails, entrails, and walls weren't Harry's cuppa, he envisioned himself kneeling on the floor, penitent. He liked the return image and smiled to himself; who was he to turn down a Severus snack?

The internal conversation stopped abruptly when Perrin muttered, "A choice. That would be nice for once." Confused, Harry and Severus had looked over at the boy, Harry wondering about the trepidation on his face. He opened his mouth to speak and when nothing came out but a raspy "Ah," he cleared his throat, trying again. "Choice? About what? Us?" he asked, his heart hammering. Did Perrin not want them?

Perrin wore an odd expression of hesitation and determination. "Yeah. Do I have a choice?"

Flustered, Harry thought fast. "Er--do you mean--can you pick someone else? To be your guardians?" Harry felt his whole spirit drop down to his toes when Perrin nodded yes.

As he chastised himself for fucking up so badly before they'd ever got started, he felt his spouse bolster him through the bond. Severus shifted in his chair, leaning close as he whispered, "Steady. Just answer him--it will be all right."

Right. "Um, you know, I don't--" Looking at the boy squarely, he realised he'd always hated not having any choices; between the prophesy, Albus, and everyone else's expectations, there'd never been any real opportunity to decide in any of it. Or to escape. With this in mind, he calmly replied, "If that's what you want. Yes, you can choose any adult or couple you prefer as guardians, providing they're willing to do it for you."

Perrin nodded, looking to the side as if he hadn't expected the answer. But that didn't stop him from asking, "Did you have a choice?"

Oh, now that was a loaded question. "About my life in general when I was your age?" When Perrin finally turned to him, his face neutral, Harry continued, "No, or at least very few options. There were things I was--expected--to do." He smiled to himself--one hurdle over. "About taking you as a ward?" Perrin's gaze sharpened. "Yes, we did."

Perrin glanced over to Severus. Harry, following his eyes, held a serious face despite his amusement when Severus merely raised a brow at the questions in the boy's eyes. Perrin quickly sought Harry, flushing a little, as he asked, "Did you want to?"

Ah, an easy one. "Yes, I volunteered when asked. No one made me, if that's what you're asking."

"Why?"

Harry relaxed a bit. "My parents are gone, too, and I know how awful it is to be alone even when there are a lot of people around. I thought maybe I could help."

Perrin looked thoughtful, yet a bit defiant. "I know you said you lived here before--so did you visit me in the infirmary just because you're my guardian?"

His eyes widened as Harry chuckled. "I visit a lot of people in the infirmary. I'm a healer, remember?" When Perrin flushed again, Harry relented. "But yes, I always took the time to come talk to you. More so than anyone else. I wanted to give us a chance to get to know each other before it became necessary." He stopped, embarrassed himself. "That didn't come out right--sorry."

He fished for the right words; Severus' hand moved on his and he looked over at him. It was there in his eyes--just tell him the truth. Drawing a deep breath to steady himself, Harry said slowly, "I know this is a lot to take in at once and I don't expect you to get it in one go. Hell, it's taken me months to get through it all. Headmaster Dumbledore approached me about being your guardian because he thought you needed protection from Tony. He couldn't find your mother and when a wizard as powerful as Al--Professor Dumbledore can't find someone, it's not good. It's not that we knew something bad was going to happen to your mother--we just wanted to make sure that if it did, you would have somewhere safe to go and someone you knew to look after you."

Harry stopped, waiting for a reply, any reply, but Perrin was looking at his hands twisting in his lap. Well, in for Knut-- "But I, we, wanted more for you. You said you chose Hufflepuff because it was safe?" Perrin glanced at him briefly, nodding. "I knew what you meant when you said that. I had relatives I went home to during the summer, but I never felt 'safe' until I was back here and even then something was missing. Oh, the teachers were nice and I even had two best friends and an adopted family through my friend, Ron, but it just--wasn't the same, wasn't what I really wanted. Do you know what I mean?"

Perrin whispered wistfully, "It's not family."

He wanted to go over to the boy and hold him until the sadness went away; with a sigh, Severus released his hand and stood from his chair. They quietly walked over and sat in the chairs next to Perrin, one on each side. Perrin looked in surprise at them both before turning his regard back to his lap. Taking his cold hands, Harry held them in his own. "No, it's not family. And I'll be honest with you, not really having one of my own, I'm not quite sure I know what that means, but if you're willing, we would like to try and find out--together."

"We," Perrin murmured. Looking up at Severus, he asked, "Are you my guardian, too?"

"Legally, no." Severus looked over at Harry and back to the boy. "Intentionally, yes."

"So you're not my guardian but you're together because of me?" he asked, looking to both of them.

When Harry felt Severus' startled reaction, he answered, "Regardless of the law, we are both your guardians." He chuckled. "And we were 'together' long before we met you; I'm here because Professor Snape lives and works here."

Perrin looked puzzled. "You're friends?"

Harry answered him with a hint of humour in his voice, "Yes, one could say that. We're also married; Severus--Professor Snape--is my husband."

"I'd heard that, but--" Perrin looked uncomfortable "--well, I thought she was having me on." He stared straight ahead, avoiding meeting either of their eyes. "How long have 'you' been my guardians?"

Harry didn't think Perrin was quite convinced yet, but answered him evenly all the same, "Ever since the Potions accident last September."

Perrin withdrew his hands suddenly and stood. "Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked hopefully.

He flopped back in the chair when Harry said, "No, unfortunately we need to talk about this afternoon and about your mother's--interment."

Suddenly looking scared, Perrin asked, "Interment? What's that?"

Severus smoothly answered, "In the Muggle world, it means the funeral arrangements. In the Wizarding world, it's when we say goodbye to someone we loved. Not so different. There are some decisions to make; we thought you might help us make them. If you'd rather not, that's acceptable as well. We have some time. Did Madam Pomfrey tell you we'd be meeting with the headmaster later this afternoon?"

"Yeah, she said something about it, but that I needed to talk to you first."

Severus eyed the boy's fidgeting hands and swinging legs; an image of walking the corridors flitted through Harry's head and he nodded slightly. He was getting antsy here as well and before he could say so, Severus said, "However, I find myself tiring of the infirmary." He glanced around the room, his brow puckered as he said, "Never did like to spend more time here than I had to." When Perrin smiled a bit, Severus continued, "Perhaps a walk would help make talking easier?"

Standing with relief, Perrin asked, "Where will we go?"

"How about a place that becomes whatever you need?" Severus asked with a raised brow.

If the boy's subdued enthusiasm was anything to go by, Harry knew 'there' would be just fine.

When Perrin sat down with his guardians in Headmaster Dumbledore's office a while later, he felt a little better prepared than when he'd awakened this morning and more than a little comforted by the presence of the two men sitting close to him on either side. He wasn't too sure about the 'family' part of their offer, but he was grateful for the rest of it.

More importantly, he believed them now when they said he wouldn't have to go back to Tony. He hadn't been too sure until Harry had apologised to the headmaster 'for his hot-headed behaviour' that morning and was shocked when Dumbledore had apologised for 'being so stubborn'. Then the two had hugged, and when Perrin noticed the silent approval from Professor Snape, he'd realised that if they could all be honest about small things like that, then they might just be telling the truth about the bigger things as well.

Then the headmaster had turned his attention to him and asked Perrin how he was feeling. Since he didn't think saying that he didn't feel much of anything would be the right thing to say, he settled for 'fine' and accepted the sherbet lemon the headmaster offered him. While the sharp lemon dissolved in his mouth, Dumbledore had stared at him long and kindly, over the top of his spectacles, like he could see inside him, and he knew then the man didn't believe him for an instant, but instead understood and wouldn't ask him again.

Nor was he scared of the serious, sober man now sitting across from him, 'Alex'. Dumbledore had introduced him as the Dissolutioner. He knew what his purpose was and while Harry was talking to him, Professor Snape's words as they'd walked down the corridor came back to him: "Because your mother was a Muggle who died a Wizarding death, she cannot have a Muggle funeral, nor can she have a Wizarding one either." That had confused him until the Potions master explained further: "The Wizarding law says her body cannot be found by the Muggles. Therefore, the only option open to us is called a Dissolutionment."

When he'd had asked what this was, Harry had asked him, "Do you know what a cremation is?" He'd told Harry that, when he was little, he and his mum had gone and collected a golden pot that his mother had told him was his dad's ashes. He'd found out later from someone else that his dad's body had been burned and he hadn't much liked it.

Harry had agreed it sounded awful, saying, "A Dissolutionment is like a cremation only there are no ashes afterwards and no fire. Only magic--a special kind of magic cast by a witch or a wizard called a 'Dissolutioner'."

Perrin had been about to ask what one of those did when they'd stopped in front of a room with a plain wooden door. He noticed Harry and Professor Snape smiling at each other over his head as if remembering something good and special only to them. He liked the way Professor Snape's face changed from harsh to, well not exactly nice, but certainly not scary at all and Harry's could only be described as 'soft', not in a squishy way, but in a 'dopey' way, like when his dad used to tease his mum. Maybe they really were married.

Harry had instructed Perrin to walk in front of the door and cross it three times before entering, which Perrin had thought a bit odd, especially considering it was a plain room with nothing in it when they'd finally gone in. Harry had seemed a bit surprised at that, but Professor Snape had quietly commented to him it just meant 'the boy' had no 'preconceived notions' of what to expect.

Perrin hadn't remained confused by the words for long, though, and soon found out what they meant. 'Purely as a demonstration', Professor Snape had asked him if he wanted to sit or stand while they talked. Well, that had been easy and he'd no more said 'sit' when three of his favourite kinds of chairs had appeared in the middle of the room. That was cool.

Harry had gone on to explain in detail that while they had no choice about the how of his mother's interment (and he suspected 'interment' meant 'disposing of the body', which he was kind of grateful no one actually said) he did have a choice about where, although they had to stay at Hogwarts. Hence they were in this secret place called the Room of Requirement. Snape had made him solemnly promise not to tell anyone about it, but Harry (with a look at Professor Snape like his dad gave to his mum when he was about to let Perrin do something he knew would upset her--like staying up late to watch the telly with him all hidden under a blanket) had said he could tell Becky if she promised to keep it secret, too. He'd almost giggled at the sour look Snape had given Harry--it had seemed so natural it made Perrin think Harry probably got into trouble a lot.

So (while explaining to him what a Dissolutioner was) they'd spent some time making the place Perrin wanted for his mum. It had taken several tries, but he had to admit he thought his mother would have liked it and he knew he certainly did. Then Snape had told him that the headmaster would be there as well and did he want his head of house to attend? He hadn't known he could invite people (although he didn't think he had much of a choice on Dumbledore's presence) and when they told him Professor Sprout wouldn't be upset with him not asking her, he had told them he would rather have Becky there if he could. Snape had said that could be arranged; Perrin felt better knowing his best friend would be there too.

With everything finished the way he'd wanted it, he'd been almost happy until Harry had asked him if he'd like some time with his mum before the Dissolutionment. He'd almost forgot in all the excitement. Professor Snape had said they had time; he could tell them later after the meeting. He was still undecided, and now this Alex bloke had said that if he wanted to say a proper goodbye to his mum, he had to have someone 'stand' with him and he could only pick one. Perrin knew who he wanted, but he also didn't want to hurt Harry's feelings.

Maybe choices weren't all they were stacked up to be, after all.

TBC