Chapter twenty four- For the Love of a Child
Severus barely had any knowledge of the time when he opened his eyes, feeling cranky and hot. It was little to wonder about, however, when he realized where he was. He was in the headmaster's office, still in his velvet robes, obviously having fallen asleep in there the night before. He felt his face heat up at the thought of what the headmaster must have thought of he, a grown man, falling asleep on the small couch like a child while waiting for the sun to rise.
Remembering that the night before had been the full moon, Severus stumbled off the comfortable couch, his hair tousled and his robes crinkled though he hardly cared. The headmaster was absent from his desk. Severus glanced out the window to see that the sun was just starting to rise. He let out a sigh of relief for some unknown reason; somehow feeling compelled to see Darian after the boy's horrid night.
"Ah, it's nice to see you up, Severus," Albus's voice sounded. Severus looked up to see that the headmaster had just entered the office. "Did you have a good rest? It is a very comfortable couch, one I usually tend fall asleep on while reading when I can't sleep."
"Is Darian in the Hospital Wing yet?" Severus asked quietly, as if not wanting to be heard at all.
The old man nodded. "Yes, that is where I just came from." A frown of worry appeared on his face. "It seems that Darian has narrowly avoided a rather nasty case of hypothermia."
Severus's eyes widened. Hypothermia? The headmaster acted as if he were talking about the common cold.
"Don't worry, Severus. I'm sure Poppy will have him fixed right up," Albus said, ever the optimist.
"And how is she expected to do that?" Severus asked frostily. "Give him Pepper-Up potion?"
"Well that is really all she can do, my boy. That and some of the old fashion medicine."
"And what is that?" Severus asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Why, chicken soup of course my dear boy!" Albus said with a chuckle.
Severus stared at the man, wondering how on the earth he could be so cheerful when Darian was as ill as he was. He stood up, brushing past the headmaster.
"Do remember to ask him about Christmas, Severus," the headmaster called after him.
Severus entered the Hospital Wing to see that Darian was, indeed, shakily spooning himself chicken broth from a steaming bowl he held in his lap.
"How are they, Poppy? Any change?" Severus jumped and turned to see that the headmaster had followed him.
Poppy was currently kneeling over Remus's pale form. "Not since the last five minutes ago that you were here, Albus," she replied without looking up.
"How did they get this sick?" Severus asked quietly, noticing that she was feeding Remus Pepper-Up potion. "Did the full moon affect their immunity system as well?"
"Now, Severus, it really isn't as bad as you think," Dumbledore said serenely. "Poppy will have them fixed up in a few days time."
Severus ignored him.
Poppy straightened, up, looking furious. "Well, you have Mr. Black to thank for all of this!"
There was silence for a pain-staking moment, and then Severus slowly turned his eyes to Sirius Black, who was sitting in a chair beside Darian's bed. He felt fury coarse through him like liquid fire and loomed over the dozing man.
"What. Did. You. Do?" Severus hissed, emphasizing each word.
Black blinked blearily up at him, uncomprehending.
"He threw them into a freezing river," Poppy answered for him, her stiff and brittle voice the only signs of her anger.
"I thought it would wake them up," Sirius defended himself. "They were dozing and I knew I needed to get them back to the castle so I kind of….well, you know…."
"Not only did you give them hypothermia," Poppy snapped, interrupting the tongue-lashing Severus was going to give the ex-convict. "But you failed in 'waking them up' as you so name it. Albus and I had to go into the forest and carry them out because you took them too far!"
"It wasn't as if I did it on purpose!" Sirius said back, frustrated. "It was a stupid thing to do, but I didn't mean to make them worse."
"You know perfectly well that-"
"Enough of this," Dumbledore interrupted in that calm, yet powerful voice that demanded attention. "Darian and Remus are going to be all right, so let the past, be the past."
Poppy had the grace to look ashamed before turning back to Remus. She called over one shoulder, "And make sure you drink all of your soup, Mr. Snape."
Severus turned back to Darian, who was looking at him guardedly. He cleared his throat and glanced at Dumbledore before slowly making his way to his son's bedside. Darian almost seemed to shrink within himself as he approached, and Severus realized the boy was shivering.
Dumbledore smiled as he watched Severus approach Darian's bed as if approaching a sleeping bear. He noticed that Sirius was looking at them curiously and cleared his throat to get the man's attention.
"Why don't you come sit over here and keep Remus company?" he suggested pleasantly.
Sirius blinked, his eyes moving from Poppy to Dumbledore, who were both at the older werewolf's bedside before glancing back at where Snape had taken the empty chair on the other side of Darian's bed. He got the hint and moved over to the chair beside Dumbledore, smiling apologetically down at Remus while trying to listen to what Snape was saying to Darian.
Severus shifted uneasily in his chair as an uncomfortable silence descended upon the two of them. He heard out of peripheral hearing that Dumbledore had struck up a conversation with his three other companions. He realized from the distrustful look on Darian's face that he would have to be the one to break the silence.
"You should be resting," he said finally, eyeing the boy's sickly appearance, along with the bags under his eyes.
"That isn't for you to decide," Darian said coldly. "It isn't as if you're my father or anything…."
That hurt more then Severus thought it would. He tried to easily brush off the shock of his son's words as he had once done so simply only months ago, but found it difficult.
Sighing, he turned away from the boy's heated glare. "I suppose I deserved that," he muttered, hating himself for admitting the boy was right. He pinched the spot between his eyes, a motion he found he did quite often since discovering Darian.
Darian watched every move he made; tense, as if expecting to be struck.
Severus closed his eyes briefly, mentally running over the conversation he had had with Dumbledore the night before. He refocused on Darian, hating how his stomach gave an unpleasant lurch at the boy's haggard appearance; hating how he had the urge to tell the boy to eat his soup; hating how he wanted desperately to straighten the bedspread more snugly over Darian's shivering form.
'You have this boy for a reason, not them,' Dumbledore's words echoed through his head with startling clarity. They were so much alike, Darian and he. Both equally as stubborn; both hating any pity thrown their way, and both pawns in the war.
It seemed strange. How could he care about a person so much when he so carelessly hurt him? The sight of Darian being ill sent shivers down Severus's spine. He'd hate to see how he'd react if he ever lost him. As if a bomb had gone off within him, Severus felt himself crumble at the thought of the boy's lifeless body.
'It is very possible,' a voice said slyly. 'He has to fight the Dark Lord. Who have you ever known that has survived that?'
It suddenly hit Severus how easily Darian could be killed in this war; how many times the boy's life had been in jeopardy through the mere five and a half years he'd known about the wizarding world.
He took in a deep, shuddering breath. Darian was still staring at him, shaking, with a look of mixed emotions: hate, anger, fear, hurt, and behind all of those negative emotions there was still a tiny spark of hope, of plead, begging to be accepting, and not to be thrown aside like the worthless trash those monsters had given him the self image of.
Could he do this? Could he admit that he was wrong? Was it worth it if it meant to help his son?
Severus swallowed heavily, and stared into the boy's amber orbs. A jolt of surprise shot through him.
"Your eyes…." he began and Darian looked down, "…they are amber."
He felt certain sadness at the loss of those green eyes that had once belonged to Lily, but Darian's new eye color still seemed to have the intoxicating affect his green ones had possessed, radiating with the same wisdom that could not possibly belong to a sixteen year-old.
"Yes," Darian answered tightly. "They finally changed."
The boy was now, in every sense, a werewolf. The curse put Darian in twice as much danger then he usually was. A Death Eater could simply lock him in a room on a full moon by himself, and watch with amusement as he ripped himself apart. It was an old method that had been used during the attempted Werewolf Purge in the early 1700's that was known to cause many gruesome deaths for the unfortunate creatures.
Severus winced. For some reason, he found that he could no longer belittle werewolves by calling them 'creatures' as he had done since his encounter with Moony in his schooldays. Now that Darian was one of them, he felt almost protective over the term 'werewolf' as he knew it was now in reference to his son.
Darian shifted under his scrutiny. "Does it bother you that I'm not human?" he asked coolly.
Silently, Severus shook his head in a negative response.
"It's not like I wanted this."
"I know that."
"I hate you for it, you know," Darian said, staring at him, though he was no longer glaring. The boy looked at his lap again, his hair falling to curtain his face. "But I can't," he whispered. "I want to, but I can't..."
Severus studied his son; stared at the sharp features, the slanted eyes, and the long, fine fingered hands that all belonged to him.
Could he give up these dreams for his son?
Severus continued to observe Darian. He watched how the boy would stare firmly at his hands, clenched in his lap when nervous, while darting a glance up at him almost shyly. He watched how Darian's hair would curtain his face when he was afraid. He watched how the boy's eyes would darken and his face would lock into a scowl when angry; how his eyes would lighten and his lips would curl into a rare smile when he was happy; how his eyes would shine when he was laughing or how his arms would stiffen and his expression would crumble when he was sad, and his eyes would widen and he would draw quickly back if he was shocked.
He could picture each of Darian's emotions in his mind clearly, knowing exactly how the boy felt by the look on his face or the way he held himself. How could he know every single one of the boy's feelings? How could he so easily read precisely how the boy was feeling, guess accurately what the boy was thinking?
Severus realized, with a start, that ever since the boy had become known as his, he had been watching Darian constantly, always, at meals, during class, around the school. It was as if the need to protect the boy had overridden his annoyance he had once harbored.
Why?
Despite the wonderful dreams he was having of a boy that he had longed to have, despite the hurtful and cruel things he had snarled to Darian, he had always watched over him, protected him if he could.
And this time, he had wanted to do it. He wanted to see if Darian was eating enough at meals; he wanted to make certain that the boy wasn't being hurt or befriending the wrong people. Dumbledore wasn't telling him to do this as the old man had commanded him to every other year. Dumbledore wasn't asking him if he could kindly make sure that the boy was eating enough at meals, or if he could inquire how Darian had been sleeping at night.
But why was he doing all of this?
Why did he care so much about Darian that he would gladly give all of his free time just to make sure the boy wasn't sad or hurting, that he was healthy and happy?
"I don't care that you are a werewolf," Severus said honestly.
Darian stared at him in shock and looked at his lap, telling Severus that he was nervous.
"But," he murmured quietly, tentatively. "You hate Remus because he's a werewolf."
"I dislike him because of what happened years ago," Severus said softly. "Because of a prank that I thought was his fault."
"Because you met him when he was a werewolf in the Whomping Willow," Darian stated, looking at him.
"It terrified me-"
"-of werewolves?"
"No," Severus said finally. "I suppose I was more ashamed and angry then frightened when it was all over. My pride was hurt most of all."
Darian looked up at him. "Do you hate me?"
Severus met his gaze. He could never hate this boy, and he would not make the same mistake twice. Since Darian had come into the picture, Severus's whole life seemed to be revolving only around the boy; if he was happy or sad; healthy or unhealthy; if he was hurt or making progress in his training, what memories were revealed every Occlumency lesson. Severus had spent most of this year with Darian, and any other time that the boy wasn't around was spent thinking about him or doing something that would ultimately help him.
"I can't hate you," he said quietly, before rephrasing it. "I would never hate you." He left out saying 'again,' knowing that it would ruin the affect.
He couldn't hate Darian because Darian gave Severus the same feeling that Lily had always given him: he was needed; someone needed him and depended on him. Someone didn't hate him; someone cared about him even. It scared him that someone could place that much trust in him once again.
'Love?'
It scared him that he could care so much about Darian as he did. As if Lily was back in his life, he once again had a purpose. He had a person that was his, someone who had broken through the walls he had put around his heart. A son….
'Love…'But what frightened him more then anything was that he now had a weakness again. He had something that he couldn't bear to see harmed.
It would kill him in the end.
This emotion that was so wonderful, so perfect, came with a price.
Severus could hear Albus and Black arguing over something behind him. Darian was looking at him questioningly, still shivering. He looked down at the full bowl on the bedside table.
"Your soup is getting cold," he said, nodding at it. He pulled out his wand and gave it a small flick, heating it. Darian picked it up and slowly put a spoonful to his mouth, still looking at him uncomprehendingly.
"You need to get some rest after you are done with that," Severus told him and Darian's eyes narrowed though he continued to eat the soup.
"Don't counsel me," Darian said stubbornly, putting the half-empty bowl down. "I can take care of myself."
Severus looked at him. "Well obviously you can't, and until you finish your soup and go to sleep, then I will continue to do so."
Darian stared at him. "Why are you doing this?" he asked shakily. "Why do I care?"
"Because I do," Severus answered, looking his son in the eye.
The boy continued to stare at him. Finally, he nodded slowly. "And why should I listen to you?" he asked, his voice dreadfully hopeful.
"Because I'm your father," Severus said and Darian blinked at the foreign statement.
Severus allowed a small smile to grace his lips. "Now eat your soup, before it gets cold again."
Darian looked at his lap for a moment before turning back to him and Severus thought he saw a spark of something in his eyes.
"Yes, sir," Darian murmured reverentially, picking up the spoon again.
"I told you it would work out within a day," Dumbledore said knowingly, to Sirius and Remus. "You were close," he said to Remus, who had predicted only a few hours. "But you, on the other hand…." He trailed off to Sirius, who had predicted a week or more. "You really need to have more faith in your godson, Mr. Black." Sirius winced.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, beaming. "Now, its time to pay up. I believe that will be three boxes of Lemon Drops from each of you? Come on, now..."
Sirius grumbled something rather rude before reaching in his robe to pull out three yellow boxes, thrusting them in the headmaster's hands.
"I'll give you an extended time limit due to your illness, Remus."
Remus smiled appreciatively.
A/N- Okay, I got this one out really early so please R&R!