Chapter Four
Severus stared at the man like a wild animal caught in a trap. His chest rose and fell as he fought to calm himself.
"I take it you've been through my school things," he said, his eyes fixed on the man's face.
The man smiled at him, a small smile of apology. "We were trying to figure out what was going on, son, and you weren't able to tell us yourself. In fact," he said, leaning his whip-thin, whip-strong frame against the doorway, "we were about to take you to the hospital if you didn't wake up soon."
"Oh," Severus said. "That would have been bad."
The man's smile turned into a grin. "Well," he said, shifting position slightly, "it would have been complicated, that's for sure. I'm just glad you're up and around."
"What are you going to do with me?" Severus asked, his hand gripping his wand tightly.
The smile left the man's face. "Honestly, son – I don't know. I was kinda hoping you'd help us out with that." And as he spoke, the "us" he referred to suddenly appeared: He was joined at the door by two other persons, and he moved to make room for them.
One of them was a woman, though probably not as old as the man; Severus guessed she must be his wife. She was about the same height as the man, who himself was not especially tall. She had blue eyes set in a pale-china face, round-cheeked and with a pointed chin, framed by brown hair cut in a bob. She held Severus' book bag in her hands, and smiled somewhat tremulously at Severus, a smile apparently meant to be reassuring.
The other, smaller person was a girl that Severus judged to be about eight years old, obviously the daughter of the man and the woman. She had her mother's eyes, and her father's squint – though in her case it wasn't benevolent – and an unruly mop of dark-blonde hair. She looked at Severus as if he were a pile of vomit that had been left out in the sun.
The man moved into the room, and they followed. The girl's nostrils twitched as she frowned.
"By the way, this is my wife, Sarah, and my daughter, Rebecca, but we all call her Becky. Becky, Sarah, meet Severus Snape."
"Pleased to meet you, Severus," the woman said in a somewhat husky voice that didn't at all match her delicate exterior. The little girl just snorted.
"Likewise, I'm sure," replied Severus, somewhat shakily, to Mrs. Norton. He pointedly ignored Becky, and kept a tight grip on his wand.
"And I," the man continued, "am John Norton. John Bennett Norton, to be exact." He smiled at Severus, and Severus, despite himself, found himself giving the man a small smile in return.
The man then picked up where he had left off:
"How in the world did you wind up here?"
"I'm not sure," replied Severus. "I think I was somehow hexed here."
"Hexed?"
"I was just getting off the train at King's Cross station, coming home for the summer, when I was ambushed by some classmates. I suppose the hexes interacted with each other in an unusual way. That's the only explanation I can think of.".
"Hmmm. I thought something like that might have happened." Norton's face flexed and rippled as he thought. "Ya see, son, I was thinkin' at first that we'd have a hell of a time scrapin' up the cash for a plane ticket to England. But then we read your school books – and it doesn't seem that a plane ticket will get you where you need to go."
Severus thought a moment. "No, it wouldn't," he concluded. Then a slow smile, secret and devious, broke onto his face. "But..."
"But what, son?"
"I think I can get the Ministry to find me and take me home, sir, without you having to do a thing."
The Nortons' eyes widened at that. "How?" Norton said. "By using your magic?"
"Yes," said Severus confidently. He turned an appraising eye on Norton. "How much have you read of my school books, Mr. Norton?"
"Well, we've just skimmed the text books, but I did read the Hogwarts Handbook for Parents and Guardians all the way through."
"Good." Severus' smile grew wider. "Then you know that students at Hogwarts are forbidden to use magic when they're away from school during the holidays."
"Yes." A light dawned in Norton's eyes. "So they can track you by your use of magic, son?" he said.
"Yes."
"And then come and pick you up?"
"Yes."
"Even out here?"
"Almost certainly, sir. Much would depend on how well your wizarding authorities get on with ours, but I'm sure that someone would soon find me."
John Norton's homely, big-nosed face split into a wide grin. "Well, then, that's not a problem, son," he said. He reached over to give Severus a friendly shake on the shoulder; Severus tried not to flinch. "You'll just be on an exotic summer vacation for a while, is all."
Becky stuck out her tongue and made a rude noise, which got her a stern look from her mother.
"Would you to give us a demonstration, Severus?" Mrs. Norton asked, as she not-so-subtly swatted Becky on the behind. "Of your magic, that is?"
Severus took them all in with a glance. There was the sullen, pouting girl, staring daggers at him; the warm-eyed, husky-voiced mother; the friendly and kind father. They all seemed at least nominally comfortable with the idea of magic. Would they be as accepting of the reality?
"Why not?" he replied, somewhat more confidently than he felt. "Might as well get started on calling attention to myself." He turned to Mrs. Norton, and indicated with a nod of his head the book bag she was still holding. "Ma'am, if you'd set that down on the table..."
Mrs. Norton, moving as if she was carrying a rattlesnake, carefully set the book bag down onto the table where Severus' robes and wand had been placed earlier.
With the Nortons all watching, he pointed his wand at the book bag, and said "Wingardium Leviosa!" (He had really wanted to do this with Becky, preferably by floating her out the window and then dropping her, but he had reluctantly decided against it.)
There was a sudden rustle and squeak of leather straps. The bag rose up slowly from the table, following where Severus' wand pointed it to go.
Becky let out a squeal. Mrs. Norton gasped.
"I'll be dipped," murmured Mr. Norton, in pleased surprise. "That is the neatest trick I've seen in ages, son." He moved a step towards the bag, which was now floating some four feet above the floor of the bedroom. "Is it all right to touch it?"
"Of course."
John Norton put out a hand, all ropy and leathery, towards the floating book bag. He felt under and around the bag, approaching it as if it were a particularly skittish goat-kid. Finally, he touched it. The grin on his face could have lit up a small town.
"I'll be dipped," he repeated softly. He picked up the bag out of thin air and held it; it felt like a feather in his arms. "How do you turn that off, son?"
"Turn it off?"
"Make it stop floating."
"Oh, I just have to stop Levitating it. Like this –"
Severus moved the wand away from the book bag. It settled into Norton's arms, so suddenly that the man took a step back in surprise even though he'd been expecting it.
"I'll be a dirty bird," he said, staring at the bag.
"Is it tiring for you, Severus?" Mrs. Norton asked.
"Not really, though I wouldn't have wanted to keep holding it up for very much longer." Severus frowned in thought a moment. "Why do you ask?"
"You've been unconscious for the better part of a day, Severus. We thought you might be in a coma, until you woke up and drank some water."
"Oh." Severus pondered what he should say about that, but nothing much came to his mind. "Well, I'm feeling fine right now," he said, in as cheery a voice as he could manage.
"Feel like you could have a little lunch, son?" Norton asked.
It was at that point that Severus caught some appetizing smells wafting up from the ground floor. "Erm, yes, actually," he said, just as his stomach started to rumble rather loudly and embarrassingly.
"Then let's eat," Norton clapped Severus on the shoulder again; this time, Severus succeeded in not flinching. "Come and get it before the grease sets."
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Harry had his arm underneath Professor Snape's rather bony shoulders, supporting him as Harry slowly tilted a warm mug of chicken soup to his lips.
"It's all right, Professor," Harry said, in what he hoped was a nonthreatening tone of voice. "It's all right..."
It seemed to work, as Snape parted his lips and swallowed as Harry carefully poured the soup into his mouth. His eyes, however, continued to stare sightlessly towards the ceiling; he was there, but not really there.
Harry let Snape have half of the contents of the mug, stopping when Snape seemed to balk a bit. Is this what it's like to care for a baby, Harry wondered idly as he set the mug down on the table nearest the bed.
"Dad..."
It was more of a wheeze than a word, but it was the first thing Snape had said in twenty-four hours. Harry's eyes widened in surprise and excitement.
Snape's glazed eyes squinted as he tried to focus them. Harry realized that Snape was expecting some sort of response.
"What is it, son?" Harry asked, and hoped that it was the right thing to say.
Snape tensed up in Harry's arms. "Not real, Dad, not real," Snape murmured brokenly, shaking his head unseeingly. "Wish you were, but you're not... not... not real..." Tears formed in Snape's coal-black eyes.
In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, Harry decided. "I'm very real, son," he sajd. "See?" And he gave Snape what he guessed to be a fatherly squeeze around the shoulders.
The tension went out of the Potions master's body. "Dad," Snape whispered, somewhat less sadly than before. "Thank you, Dad..."
Before Harry knew it, Snape was asleep and snoring on his shoulder.
Harry carefully, very carefully, set Snape's body back onto the pillows on the bed. Then Harry tiptoed over to the fireplace to fetch Dumbledore.