As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
Octavius left the Potter's with at least as many questions as he'd come with. But these questions were about him, a boy living now, not Severus Snape, a boy then a man and now dead. They were questions Mr Potter kept asking him. They were questions that were tilting the ground out from under him. He went straight to bed, ignoring his dorm mates as usual as they ignored him. He pulled the drapes around his bed, sealing himself in and away from the outside world. Sleep came quickly despite his torrential thinking.
He found The Boy under the table again. His parent's screaming formed a solid background to their quiet meeting. He gathered the smaller child in his arms and held him until his rocking back and forth slowed and then finally ceased altogether. "I'm sorry it's too late," he whispered.
The boy disappeared and with him the whole scene. Now there was silence and a tall boy sat beside him. The boy stared out into an unfathomable distance, saying nothing. Octavius sat in equal silence. They were waiting though he knew not for what. He looked out as well and seeing nothing that he could recognize, he turned his gaze back to the boy. Their eyes locked and the boy rose to his feet, growing even taller, even older. He was a man. His features were hidden behind a veil of long black hair. "It is not too late." The man's deep voice rasped softly.
Octavius woke with a start, sitting up abruptly. Tears welled in his eyes and his breath would not come. In a panic, he threw off his covers and ran stumbling from his dorm room. Without seeing, he ran through the common room, out into the darkness of the midnight Hogwarts halls. He ran blindly, ignorant of the denizens that might find him and uncaring. He ran and ran until he found himself back at the Potter's door. He pounded on the door. But then exhaustion and though caught up with him and he simply sank to the floor and sobbed in confusion.
He didn't hear the door creak open nor the voice that whispered into his ear. He didn't even feel the arms that gathered him up and carried him inside. Only when a fleecy warm blanket was pulled around his shoulders did the change in his surroundings pierce the his confused awareness. He managed to quell the sobs and blink back sight. Professor Weasley Potter was kneeling in front of him holding a steaming mug in both her hands.
"He's back with us." Mr Potter's voice said from beside him. He turned to look and saw the man's worried face brighten with a relieved smile.
"I'm sorry," he whispered back, shuddering.
"What happened, Octavius?" The adult wizard's warmth eased through his weakened defenses.
"He said it's not too late."
"What?" "Who?" Both adults looked confused.
"The Boy. Severus. He said it's not too late."
A grimace washed quickly over Professor Weasley Potter's features but was gone an instant later and she gently pushed the mug into the boy's hands. "I think you could do with a spot of hot cocoa, Octavius," she insisted.
But the child was still shaking and Mr Potter had to help him hold the mug steady. After allowing him to drink a few calming sips of the rich warm drink, the Counselor prodded gently, "You dreamt of Severus, again."
Octavius nodded. "He was very little, beneath the big table and his parents were screaming. I sat with him and after a while they went away and he grew up."
"You said he told you that it wasn't too late. Too late for what, Octavius?"
"I don't know, I don't know! The little boy was hurt and I couldn't help him. Oh!" The young wizard was hit with sudden understanding. "I remembered that he was dead already and I told him that I was sorry because he was already dead and so I said that. I said 'I'm sorry it's too late,' because he was dead already and I couldn't help him. That's when he grew up and told me that it wasn't too late. He meant it wasn't too late for me." The boy stopped to breathe.
The Potters exchanged meaningful glances over his head that he didn't notice.
"I don't want to be hurt any more."
Ginny stifled a sob.
Harry looked into the child's eyes, restraining himself from gathering the boy into a hug that he might not be able to handle. "I don't want you to hurt either." He took a deep breath to calm himself and continued. "It's very late, Octavius, and we absolutely need to talk more about this. But for now, I think you should try to go to sleep."
"I think he might stay the night here." Ginny managed a firmness that would tolerate no argument. "I'll transfigure the couch into a nice bed for you, dear."
"And we'll talk tomorrow." Harry added.
Octavius nodded and was asleep even before he could finish the cocoa. The adults tucked him in without his conscious knowledge of it, but his subconscious reveled in the kindness.
----
Octavius woke in the unfamiliar room, to a hushed bustle of a couple preparing for their day. "Good morning, Octavius." Professor Weasley-Potter greeted with a smile. "Did you sleep well?" She was already dressed in salmon colored robes, a hint of the same color on her lips.
Octavius sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment at his behavior the night before. "Thank you ma'am, yes. I'm not late am I?" He dreaded the thought of returning to his dorm in night clothes while everyone else was dressed and heading for breakfast already.
"Not at all. Mr Potter will escort you back, however, as running around the castle in one's nightclothes is frowned upon. We wouldn't want some overzealous Prefect to catch you about and give you an unwarranted detention."
"No Professor." He agreed.
Mr Potter emerged from an inner room with slippers and a robe in hand and a smile on his face. "Good morning Mr Lestrange." He greeted with formal words but a cheerful tone. "Last night you came running up here with nothing on your feet and no robe. You can use these. They were Arthur's and then Siri's but they've both outgrown them."
Octavius took the robe and shrugged it on, immediately amazed by its cozy warmth. "Is it charmed?"
Harry grinned. "I wish I could take credit for that and say 'yes.' But it's not. It's fleece, a very warming material." His grinned broadened when the boy unconsciously stroked the soft fabric. "Don't forget the slippers. They're lined with fleece. You may as well keep them. We've no more use for them."
Octavius gasped. "Really? Oh, sir! Thank you!" He was practically gushing.
"Let's go then. See you at breakfast, Ginny!" Harry called as he guided the young student to the door.
The pair walked in silence. As predicted, it was still too early for all but the most harried Ravenclaw to be up and around. And it was still too early in the year even for Ravenclaw panic. Harry was the first to speak. "You come see me during your break, Octavius. We need to talk about last night."
"Yes sir." It was clear from the uncertain tone that the boy was having second thoughts.
Harry hoped they could get past those this day, but he wasn't going to count on it and he was determined not to show any disappointment should the worst come to pass and the boy backed out. Sooner or later, he'd come round. Better sooner rather than later though. He left the boy outside the Slytherin Common Room, not intending to embarrass him by walking inside with him. He gave the boy's shoulder a pat. "We will get you though this, Octavius." He all but promised.
Octavius nodded without looking up at the man. He gave the password and entered the common room, pausing on the threshold to thank the older wizard. He left it to him to understand what his thanks were for. He blushed again and hurried inside and immediately got ready for breakfast and classes.
It seemed none of his roommates had any idea he'd not spent the entire night there. One of them woke when he entered but merely growled in annoyance as he realized it was time to rise anyway. Octavius had not made friends with any of the boys in his dorm, so he went down to breakfast as soon as he was ready, not bothering to wait for anyone. Aside from a few teachers and early risers the Great Hall was nearly empty. He sat near the end of the Slytherin table and pulled out a book to read while he waited for breakfast to appear.
He was well enmeshed in his reading when a solid whack thumped the back of his head. Startled, he jumped up out of his seat and spun to face his attacker.
There was no one there.
Or...
He looked around, eyes narrowed. Yes. There, heading nonchalantly towards the Gryffindor table, were the culprits. Stuart Finnigan and Sirius John Potter were all but giggling, their heads bent towards one another in a way that Octavius easily interpreted as 'conspiratorial.' He felt his anger surge, a rising swirl of boiling anger.
And then he remembered the talk with Mr Potter and his Head of House, not to mention the beatings from his father. He had to control his anger. He shut his eyes, concentrating on feeling the raw power surging through his veins. He concentrated on not unleashing it against undeserving students, but rather only to the pair who walked away from him, laughing at him!
No spell was spoken, but he thought of retribution, he imagined his anger directed like a chilling bucket of ice water --
A shriek interrupted his thoughts. He staggered and swayed, falling backwards against the Slytherin table, while laughter and yelling assaulted his senses. He opened his eyes and saw a bedraggled and shivering pair of confused Gryffindors glaring at their own friends now laughing at them. Another, older, red headed boy looked less than happy as he shook his head at them.
Was this what his father had meant?