-~PULSE~-
Chapter Two
Dumbledore held his potion's master's gaze, hands upon the other man's shoulders, until his back started protesting the lean. He straightened, and Severus said nothing. The fire crackled, and Severus stared. The headmaster resisted the urge to fidget under the black gaze; he could see how a first year could have nightmares from this, and the younger man wasn't even towering over him.
"For all that's Holy in the world, say something, man!" The Headmaster snapped exasperatedly.
'Severus the statue' animated; he shook his head in disbelief. Anticipating the indignant explosion, Dumbledore aimed for some pre-emptive damage control.
"Severus, trust me, I know this is a complete mockery of the sacred bond between master and apprentice." The man's head still shook, and Severus broke the staring contest, head tilting downward to his lap. "After all that you have done for the Wizarding world, ministry included, it is unbelievable how we must force you into this, but Severus you aren't alone," Dumbledore launched a quick explanation of the ministry's demands, masterfully glossing over Severus' original exclusion and subsequent pairing with one Harry Potter. Still, the man remained silent.
"Are you going to ignore me from here on out?" Dumbledore inquired solicitously.
A low, closemouthed chuckle emanated from Severus; the older man's head snapped back from considering the room's bare walls to the top of the potion's master's head.
"Are you becoming hysterical?" he asked. The chuckle continued, and Severus finally looked up, a pale hand rising to cover his smile; his eyes were watering.
"Severus?" the Headmaster eyed him closely, clearly debating a trip to Madame Pomfrey's.
Severus made a shooing gesture and stood from his chair once the Headmaster stepped back.
"I am fine, Albus," he cast an amused yet disapproving look in the headmaster's direction. "You came in here with the end of the world on your coattails. Forgive me if I'm relieved it is only the apocalypse of one small island." Dumbledore felt the odd mix of disbelief and relief wash over him. Both Minerva and Severus were fearsome arguers, nearly impossible to quell on the rare times they agreed. He didn't relish the opportunity of facing off against them both in the same day.
"Besides," Severus continued as he once again began preparing tea, "the answer is no."
Dumbledore blinked. Damn. He should have realized even his own supernatural luck could not stretch so far as an agreeable Snape. After all, Hell hadn't frozen over, yet.
"Severus, as I explained, the Ministry has left us no choice. If we do not follow their orders, Azkaban will be in our future."
"Azkaban for refusing to take an apprentice? The media would have a veritable field day with that one," he sneered and placed his kettle to boil wincing when he set it down harder than he intended. "The answer remains: No."
Albus cringed at both Severus' harsh treatment of the pot and the predicted headlines.
"Severus, we were able to keep you from Azkaban for baring the Dark Mark, but I doubt for defying Heller will be as easy." He closed in on Severus' kitchenette and adjusted the kettle to better sit upon the stove. "One of these days, you well have to tell me what you did to make Heller hate you so much," he muttered.
Severus pretended not to hear him.
The headmaster peered quizzically at the Potion's Master. The dark haired man's body was coiled with tension; his temple throbbed in time with his heart beat.
"You're the second Slytherin I've seen with a vibrating forehead today," he idly commented.
Severus' hand flew to his temple. "Only two?" he asked acidly. "I don't take apprentices, Albus. And Potter?" he scoffed. "That boy doesn't have a single shred of talent for potions in him. You wish to doom me to an unsuccessful first apprenticeship? Bouncing back from that is unheard of!"
"Mr. Potter, despite your beliefs, is a bright lad full of potential. Give him half a chance, and I guarantee you, he will surprise you."
"I'm not interested in any surprises he has to offer," Severus countered.
"You wouldn't have to be his master in potions," the Headmaster offered, "In fact, I was honestly hoping you would take him as your total apprentice, instruct him in all of your mastered fields."
"Are we forgetting Occulmency?" Severus asked, his temper bleeding into his voice. Dumbledore saw the light flicker in Severus' eyes with an assumed moment of eureka. "You planned this!" Severus accused.
Albus looked reproachful, "I am guilty of manipulating a great many people and situations but only and always for a specific reason. Right now, I am only guilty of massive damage control. Quite honestly, I had to place you with Mr. Potter. The list was set; the others were paired leaving Alastor, you, and Messers Potter and Weasley.
"And of the apprentices you could have had…would you have preferred Mr. Longbottom? Miss Lovegood? The Head of House restriction prevents you from becoming Mr. Malfoy's Master. And let's not forget Miss Granger."
"Small miracles," Severus muttered. He turned his back to the Headmaster, hunching with his hands upon the sink rim, "You're going to force me aren't you?"
"I don't want to, but given our restraints, you are perfect for being his Master." He leaned a hand next to Severus on the counter, "Who would be better to protect him from the remaining Death Eaters and train him to fight them at the same time?"
Severus glared coldly, "Stop trying to convince me to be happy about this." He sighed, resigned to his fate. He was doomed to protecting Potter for at least the rest of his own life. "I'll do it," he whirled around and fixed a long finger in the older wizard's face, "But it is going to be on my terms. You don't get to interfere, old man. If I am his Master then it will be in accordance with the traditional rules and my own wishes, got it?"
Dumbledore raised his hands in surrender, "As you wish. No interference will come from this old man."
Severus nodded decisively, wondering why he never could refuse the man and what the Hell he was getting into.
"One more thing, though," Dumbledore mentioned after several minutes of silence.
Severus rolled his eyes and heaved forth a long sigh, "What else could you possibly add?"
The headmaster smiled tightly, "I need you to accompany me to inform Mr. Potter."
-~Pulse~-
Harry ran two dirt covered hands through his thick mop of hair. He could still hear the occasional grumble from his uncle downstairs. Hedwig hooted apologetically from her cage and nipped his fingers softly when he reached inside to smooth her feathers.
"It's not your fault girl," he soothed, "You couldn't have known he was watching."
Harry's last task for the day had been backyard maintenance. It was hot outside and the only thing not dull was the bright sun; he'd longed for a distraction. He'd kept himself motivated by imagining how nice a hot, though quick, shower would feel once he'd finished.
And he would have had that shower, too, if halfway though his raking, a Hogwarts owl hadn't swooped into the yard. The ornery owl wouldn't accept that Harry had no treats for her. Hedwig then rushed in to defend Harry from the near-feral animal. The two birds made an ungodly racket. Harry's Uncle Vernon charged out from the house and shooed away the owls before yelling at Harry about stupid, freaky owls disturbing the neighbors. Vernon Dursley then bent to retrieve the fallen letter. The parchment jumped around and spit at the large man. Infuriated, he dragged Harry into the house and locked him into his room. Harry sighed, grabbed his water bottle from beneath his bed, and resigned himself to not getting a shower before the morning.
Then the letter slipped through the crack between his window and the sill. The missive didn't tell him who the masters would be, just that he was required to become an apprentice to one of the Hogwarts professors, and that it wouldn't be Professor McGonagall.
They summoned him to a meeting at Hogwarts. Due to his incarcerated state and lack of ride to the train station, he missed that meeting. He wondered if he would be in trouble for that when he finally made it back to school.
A loud knock carried through the house. Harry glanced out the window, there were no vehicles in the driveway or by the street, and he couldn't quite see whoever was waiting at the door.
"Boy!" Uncle Vernon's angry voice called. Harry jumped up and tried the door, it was still locked.
Steps ascended the stairs, and, moments later, Harry's aunt opened the door, startling Harry into nearly toppling over her.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
Her horse like face crinkled in disgust, eyes glancing to his hair. "Come on, you have guests." She turned to head back down the stairs. "Why didn't you bathe once you finished with yard?" Harry rolled his eyes and followed silently.
"Professor Dumbledore," he greeted, surprised but pleased to see the old wizard. Harry surveyed the Muggle attired man. Somehow, Dumbledore managed to make a tweed suit look flamboyant.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and noticed his aunt glaring at someone positioned further in the sitting room.
Upon seeing his second visitor, he bit back an expletive. "Snape," he greeted shortly. Surprisingly enough, Snape nodded curtly in return to his greeting. He half hoped his uncle thought he was on good terms with the frightening wizard.
Snape was never a sloppy person, but today he seemed even sharper. The professor wore a smart, crisp suit, in black of course, with his hair clean looking and tied back from his face. After his nod to Harry, he resumed his staring contest with Petunia Dursley. Unlike Harry's aunt, however, his face was carefully blank.
Vernon Dursley re-entered the room, face red like a ripe tomato.
"Mr. Dursley, we apologize once again," Snape snorted but the Headmaster smoothly continued, "We mailed Mr. Potter earlier-"
"So that was your ruddy bird?" Vernon snapped.
"Yes, sir, so you did receive my letter?"
"Bloody envelope bit me!" Harry swore he could see a small smile on Snape's face. "And stop that one," Dursley pointed accusatorily at Snape, "from staring at my wife!"
Snape blinked and looked to Harry's uncle. "Would you prefer for me to stare at you, Vernon?" he sneered.
"Why are you even here, Snape?" Vernon demanded and Petunia nodded in agreement.
"Can't a professor visit his best and favorite student?" he asked, laying on the sarcasm so thick Harry suspected he'd need boots to cross the room. Harry eyed his teacher, earning himself a questioning brow.
"Favorite student?" Vernon asked, not catching the professor's sarcasm. "You really are a freak, boy." Snape's jaw clinched. The room temperature dropped.
"Now, now," Dumbledore intervened before either of his boys lost their temper, "We are here for a simple discussion regarding my letter." Harry nodded his understanding. "May we speak Harry alone for a moment?"
"No!" Vernon bellowed. "I will not leave you freaks unsupervised in my own home. Especially you!" he pointed at Severus.
Harry looked on in confusion; his aunt and uncle looked upon his professor with dislike and disgust, but familiarity as well. The professor in turn somehow knew the best ways to infuriate his uncle.
"And if I promise not to touch anything?" Severus asked in his best impression of a saccharine voice.
"Severus," Dumbledore warned. The older wizard sighed, "I guess we will have to do things your way." He waived his wand minutely, shifting the wood solely with his wrist movements. Petunia and Vernon's eyes glazed over before the two fell backwards, landing with a loud thump. "There," the Headmaster smiled briefly. "Why don't we all adjourn to the kitchen?"
Both Harry and Dumbledore took seats at the large kitchen table. Severus held back at the door frame, waiting for Dumbledore to explain their presence.
"So, my boy, how have you been?" the headmaster asked, for the entire world seeming as if the sitting room scene hadn't happened.
"I'm fine, Sir," Harry replied simply while nervously glancing between his headmaster and professor, as if concluding a difficult inner debate, he leaned forward to involve himself further in the conversation. "Actually, sir," he cleared his throat, "As I am sure you noticed, my relatives don't really want me here. Ron's invited me loads before to stay at the Burrow. Can't I go there?" He was puzzled by Snape's smirk.
"You did read my letter, Harry, didn't you?" the Headmaster inquired gently.
"Of course I did," Harry replied. He looked over to Snape, and things finally dawned on him. "Snape?" he incredulously asked Dumbledore. At Snape's raised brow, he realized he didn't want to anger the professor further should he really be his apprentice and hastily added, "He hates me, Headmaster. I can't be his apprentice!"
"Professor Snape doesn't hate you," Dumbledore soothed even as Severus made a suspiciously snort-ish sound. Dumbledore turned to Severus and tilted his head to Harry, encouraging his Potions Master to speak.
"I do not," Severus allowed, though Harry seemed far from convinced.
"So you see," the Headmaster continued jovially spinning in his chair back to the youngest wizard, "You two are perfect for each other."
"And you are okay with this?" Harry disbelievingly questioned Severus.
"I believe the Professor Dumbledore has excellent judgment on most matters," Severus conceded. Harry nodded but furrowed his brow in consternation. He was by far not happy with the situation, but he would only be at Hogwarts for two more years and when it came down to it, his match could've been worse.
"Then I suppose that's settled, then," Harry commented dryly. He perked up almost instantly, "So, do you think I'll be able to stay with the Ron?" Sounds from the Dursley's awakening were heard from the other room. Severus left the kitchen to check on them.
Dumbledore leaned forward, "Harry, Ron won't be at home for the rest of the summer. He will be staying with his new Master, Professor Moody."
"Why does Ron have to stay with him during the summer?" Harry asked in a slightly panicked voice, thinking of being forced into close quarters with Severus. "I thought this whole apprentice deal was for the school year; like being an assistant or something."
The wizened wizard rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Or something. Perhaps I should explain further. An apprenticeship, especially a magical one, is more than becoming an assistant. Of course, you are expected to assist your Master as part of your training, but in many ways the Master/Apprentice bond is closer than that of even a parent and child. Your master is your educator, care-giver, and protector.
"The relationship is amongst the most sacred in our culture, which is why true apprenticeships are so rare these days."
A high pitched shriek wailed from the sitting room, piercing Harry's eardrums.
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, SNAPE!" Harry flinched at his Uncle's rasped voice resonating through the walls. The kitchen wizards stood, Dumbledore leading the way to the source of the sound.
Harry stopped just short of colliding with the Headmaster's back. The fission between the two banes of Harry's life (other than the late Lord Voldemort) gaped even further than it had pre-Dursley naptime. Vernon Dursley had retrieved his hand pistol (a replacement for the shot gun Hagrid destroyed years earlier), and was busy aiming it at Snape's head. His hand was eerily steady.
"You dreadful, boy," Petunia spat, "How dare you come into our home? No wonder Harry is your favorite student, he's just as sneaky and peculiar as you are!"
Severus' left arm was laced with tension as he aimed his wand at the pair; all the room's occupants' breaths came out as white puffs of air.
"Severus!" Dumbledore warned harshly, the younger wizard remained on guard. The Headmaster crossed the room in quick strides and placed a hand on the potion master's wand-wielding arm. "Let's go, Severus," he murmured, knowing little else would calm him in such a situation. He ushered Severus to the doorway.
"We will return later with paperwork, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said once just inside the exit.
Severus popped his head back in, looking straight to the still armed Muggle, "I don't know what you planned on doing with that," he narrowed his eyes at the firearm, "fish."
The door closed and the remaining occupants looked down in tandem. Vernon squealed spectacularly and tossed the offending minnow/pistol to the ground.
"Vernon! Not on my floor!" Petunia screeched, picking up the offending fish and throwing it to Harry. "Your favorite teacher left it," she sneered, "Deal with it, boy!" Harry sighed as if put out and wisely waited until he was outside before laughing.
Perhaps apprenticing to Snape wouldn't be such a bad deal after all. Well, he reconsidered, at least not all of the time.
Several hours later, after his uncle had blown up and simmered down, Harry finally got his shower.
He scrubbed his hair ruthlessly, trying to expel the dust that settled with his sweat earlier in the day. There had to be some way of escaping the apprenticeship. Harry reasoned the only explanation for Snape's moderately civil behavior earlier had been the presence of perhaps the one person on the planet Snape hated more than Harry, his Uncle Vernon. He couldn't imagine coming out of two years living with Snape unscathed.
He dressed in his bathrobe, starting to towel dry his hair as he walked to his room. The towel draped over his eyes as he closed the thin wooden door behind him. He shivered at the coolness of the air in his room.
"Really Mr. Potter, your awareness leaves something to be desired," an unfortunately familiar voice purred smugly.
"Gahh!" Harry screamed and fell back to the door frame as he ripped the towel from his head. There, at his own spindly desk, sat his absolute least favorite teacher, Muggle-fied and cockily twirling Harry's own wand. "Snape? What the hell are you doing here?"
"At least you're clean this time," he let the lack of title and disrespectful question pass. "The Headmaster did say we would bring you some paperwork."
"Is Dumbledore here?" He stupidly looked around the mostly barren room for the tall, typically brightly-clad wizard.
"Yes," Snape sneered, "can't you see his foot sticking from beneath the bed?"
"Give me my wand! How did you even get in here?" he demanded, losing his resolve to make peace with his to-be master.
Severus made a mental note to teach the boy proper wand etiquette as he tossed the boy his magic stick. He pulled a tightly rolled scroll from within his jacket. "These are the apprentice measures," he said shortly. "Dumbledore tells me you need further information on what this arrangement will entail. Understand this is all a formality; you have no more choice in this matter than I do."
"You didn't choose to be my master?" Harry asked. He was rewarded with a look clearly answering his question. He startled when Snape actually offered him a verbal response.
"The Ministry wishes it, and so it is done," his voice was mockingly blasé. "However, I do suspect our magnanimous and questionably malevolent Headmaster had some portion of his anatomy in it." Snape smirked to himself as the boy chewed on that one.
"Why are you being," Harry considered his words briefly, "semi-polite to me?"
Severus pursed his lips and looked to the heavens; second mental note: teach the boy when to not ask questions.
"You and I," Severus explained, "Are about to embark on a journey of sorts." The next statement visibly pained him. "I am willing to leave the past at the door," he paused, "if you are." Harry doubted his sincerity but agreed all the same. "What are your questions about the apprenticeship?"
Harry frowned, "I don't really know anything about it; it's never come up before, and the letter was very vague." He looked around for straws to make him seem less ignorant, "So I have to live with you, like fulltime?"
"Yes, more than less," was all Severus said on that matter. He considered the teenager for a time, "I will give you an overview. You will listen. Save any questions until I finish. Got it?"
Harry nodded. "What if I forget the question by then?" Harry asked, his head cocking to the side.
"Don't," he ordered simply. "An apprenticeship is one of the most ancient forms of instruction in our world. Ideally you would be a younger teenager or closer to twenty in the beginning, depending on the type of apprenticeship. But the age of the apprentice isn't the most important aspect.
"Your master becomes the final word in your life, even above your parents. Repercussions for anything you do wrong, minor personal infractions or actual law-breaking falls to your master for implementation. Your master also must make amends with the injured party. More serious crimes will involve the ministry, but I trust we won't have to deal with that?" Harry shook his head no. "I thought not. A single subject study can last anywhere from five to ten years. A total are study can be longer, all depending on the subjects and participants-"
"Five years?" Harry cut in incredulously. "I graduate in two; they can't force me to stick with you for longer than that!"
Severus resisted rolling his eyes. "You shouldn't raise your voice, Potter," he calmly informed, smirking nastily. "And they can."
"What's going on in there?" Dudley's voice carried through.
"Nothing!" Harry snapped back. "You're bloody well of your rocker if you think I'm going to spend five years with you."
"Five to ten," Severus smiled. He was so glad he let Dumbledore talk him into speaking with the boy. 'It will help bring the two of you to terms,' the headmaster claimed. It was also a blast riling Potter up in the process.
"Someone's in there!" Dudley shouted. "Mummy!" he called, his heavy steps fading as he rushed downstairs.
Harry pulled at his still damp hair and darted into the hallway and after his cousin.
"Boy!" his uncle called him up short, "What are you doing undressed in the middle of the house? Get back up to your room."
"Harry's got someone in his room and sounds like a man!" Dudley ratted, an unmistakable look of glee covering his smudged features.
"What's wrong with you boy?" Vernon asked disgusted, "Weren't you strange enough already?" Harry gaped like a fish; his aunt the only one not assuming he was having an illicit affair with an older man. Vernon stomped to the stairs and began ascending. Harry rubbed his face and waited for the fireworks, hoping Snape somehow disapparated despite the wards Dumbledore had in place. His head snapped up as he heard Dudley loudly tumble from the stairs. His uncle was backing from the steps slowly, eyes fixated on something entering the room.
Snape stalked the man like a born predator yet with no wand drawn. His gaze was the only weapon he needed, it seemed, to keep the rotund man in his place.
"I believe you were coming to get me. I thought I would save you the trouble of going all the way to Mr. Potter's room." His voice was quite yet Harry could hear clearly him from across the room. He hadn't feared Snape since his first year at Hogwarts, but he felt the tell tale cold trickle down his spine. The room temperature of the room itself dropped, marking a pattern in Harry's eyes.
"What are you doing in my house, freak?" Vernon demanded though his shaky voice ruined any chance he had for threatening. Without his gun between the wizard and his person, his courage had evaporated.
Snape cocked his head and lifted the scroll for Vernon to see, "I need you to sign this."
"Get out of here Snape," Petunia interfered crossing to stand directly before Snape who lowered his extended arm. Harry bewilderedly realized she no more feared his professor than she did Ms. Figg's cats. The broadly built wizard was disgusting to her, but nothing she felt unprepared to handle. "We aren't signing anything you have to offer," she sneered.
Severus clicked his tongue. "Ah, ah," he chided and towered over the only slightly shorter sister of his childhood friend. "The headmaster isn't here to protect you, Mrs. Dursley," he leaned over for her to hear his soft words. "Your sister isn't here to temper me, either," he whispered.
Thwack. Harry blinked and wondered if perhaps his glasses were faulty. His aunt had smacked him. Aunt Petunia had struck the most feared professor of Hogwarts and had done it hard, by the way he rebounded and the looks of the hand print forming on Snape's face. The room heated drastically. Harry waited for his uncle to interfere, emboldened by the fact that his own wife could bring the tall wizard harm, but the man remained statuesque and plastered to the front door. Dudley openly gaped.
Severus gingerly touched the warmed skin of his cheek; it wasn't the first time he'd driven Lily's sister to physically attacking him. When he was younger, he'd made into a sort of game. He raised his paper, the parchment stopping just short of obscuring her eyes from his vision.
"Sign it," he ordered. The room was cooling again.
"Leave," she countered, her hands clenched into balls, knuckles stretched white.
"Potter," Snape snapped, "Upstairs, get dressed and retrieve your belongings." Harry remained rooted. "Now, Potter," he repeated.
Harry scooted around the other man, specifically noting the closer he moved, the colder the air felt. He shook the thought away and ran up the steps. In his room, Harry had to force himself to remain calm. All of his belongings were packed. Hedwig had been released, presumably with directions. He debated telling Snape to go to hell and leave him with the Dursleys, but he wasn't sure which person downstairs frightened him more.
Dumbledore had to have a way of getting him out of the apprenticeship. His thoughts shot rapid-fire around his brain. He couldn't spend five years at the beck and call of the psycho downstairs. Then again, if he went with Snape now, he'd likely end up in a place with a Floo. Staying with the Dursleys would isolate him from other wizards and expose him to three very angry relatives.
His decision was set. He checked beneath his loose floorboard; his special items were packed as well. Grabbing his trunk, he started pulling it towards the stairs.
Severus waited for him at the bottom; he was placing the apprentice scroll into his suit jacket pocket. He shrank the chest once Harry joined him.
"Where are the Dursley's?" Harry questioned.
"In the kitchen," he picked up the trunk and held it up for Harry to take. The teenager was too busy looking behind him to the kitchen door. "They are well," Severus informed, hand still presenting the trunk. Harry turned back and took his belongings, all his worldly possessions crammed into one two by three rectangle.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked once they were outside and walking down Privet Drive.
"Sir," Severus added. Harry looked at him confused. "Where are we going, sir?" Severus repeated. He slowed his speed as the baffled look and awkwardly long strides were making his future apprentice look ridiculous.
"I don't know, that's why I was asking you," Harry answered. Severus sped up, not caring if the snot looked stupid.
He cast the boy a baleful look, "I sincerely hope that sounded better in your head. Otherwise I shall start questioning your faculties even more than I already do."
"I thought we had some sort of truce," Harry asked in reference to Snape's claim that the past was the past.
Severus grunted, "I should think, technically, you broke it first." He stopped abruptly, waiting for Harry to turn to him. "Do you plan on accepting that we are stuck? Hogwarts' attorneys couldn't break the ministry's decision. Headmaster Dumbledore himself could find no loop hole. Lucius Malfoy and his best lawyers were left with nothing but wasted parchment. What makes you think that the world will create a way out for you just because you wish it so?"
Harry refused to meet his professor's gaze, finding the task of glaring holes into a neighbor's mailbox infinitely more fascinating, "They can't just force us together! It's not right."
"No, it isn't," Severus agreed. "But you've been steered through your entire childhood, what's one more turn around the bend?" He resumed his trek towards the area's designated apparation point, though at a more merciful pace.
"Why did you turn Uncle Vernon's gun into a fish?" Harry asked after a minute of silence. They had reached the street's corner.
Severus held out a hand for Harry to take, then saying as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I could hardly leave you there with him while he was still armed with a deadly weapon." Harry met Severus' eyes, looking for dishonesty. Why would Snape care if he wasn't safe with his uncle? "Besides," Severus continued, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, "It amused me."
-~PULSE~-
Severus apparated to just outside Hogwarts' wards. Harry bent over to catch his breath; he hated side-along.
"Ready, Potter?" Severus asked sardonically. Harry nodded but didn't straighten right away.
"Is Ron here with Moody?" he finally asked. Severus debated lying but decided it wasn't worth the effort.
"He is," Severus answered slowly, "Along with several others of your little friends. I must meet with Professor Dumbledore. Keep yourself out of trouble whilst I do."
"I will," Harry responded somewhat sullenly.
"How will you occupy yourself?" Snape inquired.
Harry balked at the question and answered through gritted teeth, "I'll go find Ron. We'll hang out in the Gryffindor common rooms, alright?"
Severus appeared to actually consider whether he was okay with that. "You can resize your own trunk?" Harry nodded. "Good, stay in Gryffindor tonight. I have some business to attend to. I will collect you tomorrow morning."
"How will you occupy yourself?" Harry asked snottily. Severus fought the urge to smirk. It would be wrong to encourage cheekiness and disrespect in the boy. He withheld his answer.
"Well?" Harry prompted as they reached the entry doors and he still had no reply. Severus raised an eyebrow and younger man sighed exasperatedly, knowing what his professor was waiting for. He decided to humor the man since he was genuinely curious. "How will you occupy yourself, sir?"
"Careful, people will think you're learning," Severus told him, then remaining silent and waiting to see if Harry would twitch. Harry's face contorted, fighting the urge to grind his teeth. "I must pay a visit to my father," Severus explained.
"You're going to see your dad?" Harry asked skeptically, wanting clarification.
"Yes, now go to Gryffindor."
"But-"
"Now, Potter. The elves will feed you if you get hungry." Severus waited for Harry to ascend the stairs leading to his common rooms before he headed to Dumbledore's territory to inform the man that he was going to the hospital.
-~PULSE~-
The dark haired man flexed his fingers, enjoying the foreign sensation of his body answering his commands. The two men who'd come for him laid dead on the floor. A third cowered in the corner of his room.
"Who sent you?" he snarled. His hand shot out from beside his body, the third flew up against the wall, arms and legs stretched their furthest. A wand inched out of the third's pocket. "You're a wizard," the man concluded. He grinned maniacally, "You all were and couldn't handle little old me."
The man's eyes were black and crazed. His head was covered in greasy, short hair just as pitch as his eyes. A scar from his brief military career stretched from the corner of his right eye to the edge of his strong jaw, the silky flesh contrasted oddly with his naturally pale skin. He chuckled through his madness as the man in his grasp squirmed against his hold. The wizard's instinctual defenses were kicking in; he relished the feeling of the smaller man's magic seeping into his bones.
He felt a ripple in the air and blinked fiercely, dropping the man as his hands went up to run through his hair. He turned, growling at his new intruder.
"Who are you?" he demanded of the pompous wizard with long blond hair sauntering into his room; the orderlies in the hall remained oblivious.
"Lucius Malfoy. Are you enjoying yourself?" Malfoy asked.
"Immensely," he sneered before looking around his room, "where am I?"
"A hospital," Malfoy clarified, "You have been in a coma for, oh, the past twenty-some odd years."
"You lie," the man spat, "I feel stronger than ever."
"I can prove it, Tobias," Malfoy urged. "Come with me. It isn't safe here." Tobias Snape reared back when the blond wizard reached for him. "I woke you," Malfoy argued, "I'm only trying to help. I help you, you help me, alright? We need each other."
"I don't need anybody," Tobias sneered.
Malfoy held out a beckoning hand to the older man, "I doubt the hospital authorities will be pleased with this mess. Come now, I need you as much as the opposite." Tobias Snape looked around his depressing little room, the two men dead, and the one unconscious. It wasn't as if he had any better options than following the other man. He allowed the new wizard to lead him from the hospital.
TBC…
Please read and review.