Chapter Eight: St Mungo's

Severus sighed again. He had totally forgotten to do anything with that child and it was the headmaster who had to rivet his attention on him again!

Rather than telling the headmaster about Laures, he decided to find out the truth behind his appearance at the manor for himself first. He wanted to be the one to make the child talk to him. That led to the warranted question, where was the boy anyway? He remembered vaguely sending him out of his room after the child had told him what should be the truth. He wasn't sure, however, whether it was the truth he'd been told. Determined to clarify that now, he called for a house elf.

"Do you know where the child is? If not, find him and tell me!" he ordered, sending the elf a withering glare.

"Master Sir, the child Laures Sir is sleeping in the corridor on the second floor in the west wing." The elf squeaked fearfully, albeit eagerly, answering his master.

'What's he doing there? How did he get there anyway?' Severus wondered, shaking his head. 'And why, for heaven's sake, haven't the elves brought him back to his assigned room if they know where he is? I think I have to pay them a visit sometime soon and have a talk with them.'

He stood and strode quickly to the indicated location. He may hate the Potter boy, but he didn't wish him any harm. So he had to find him more or less happily and get him to eat something. He had eaten little enough since he had arrived here. He would never deprive a child of a bed or food. He was a bastard, but not cruel.

Laures was easy to find and when he arrived he saw that Socrates was with him again. The damn cat seemed to actually like the child. Laures was huddled in a fetal position, his long hair spread around him and fast asleep. He sighed deeply at the sorrowful picture. He knew that only he was to blame for this. He sighed once again and wanted to scoop the raven-haired child up in his arms, being careful not to wake him. When he first touched him, though, Laures flinched, but he did not wake. Severus carried Laures into his guest room and tucked him into his bed.

'And again you didn't eat anything. Somehow I think you do this just so you don't have to eat, stupid child.'

He thought and left. He came back a while later with a potion phial in his hand. He gently fed the boy the nutrient potion, before he went to his own bedchamber. He was confused. He didn't know how to behave around the child anymore. His outward appearance said it was Laures, the scared small boy in front of him, but then he remembered that the boy had said he was Potter who he hated because he was an insolent prat. He would definitely have to ask him tomorrow, he thought.

He was warm and surrounded by something soft. Sleepily, he blinked, but it stayed dark. Strange, he thought. He was definitely awake, he knew that. So why was it so dark that you couldn't see a thing? He tiredly rubbed his eyes. He knew he must have slept quite a while, but he felt as tired as if he hadn't slept one minute. Slowly he became more awake and remembered that the darkness wouldn't fade however he tried. He knew it was childish, but he still hoped every night that when he woke the next morning everything would be okay and he would be able to see again.

He sat up and stretched languidly. Hearing a loud crack behind him, he jumped. Calming his heartbeat with deep breaths, he turned to the noise.

"Who's there?" he asked, frightened.

"Me Lupo, Laures Sir." sqealed what obviously was a house elf.

"What do you want here?" he asked curiously.

"Master Sir sent Lupo to bring Laures Sir to dining room, Laures Sir!" the elf squeaked proudly.

"Okay, Lupo. I just have to get dressed first." Harry told the elf while climbing out of the large bed.

He donned the same clothes he'd worn the day before. In the bathroom he found, after he'd knocked over half of the things on the board, the hairbrush he'd been searching for. He gingerly brushed through his hair, which was utterly disheveled. When he was ready, his hair was shimmering lightly in the light, not that he could see that, though.

In the dining room, he was greeted with silence. He insecurely sat down in the chair the elf had led him to.

In the completely silent room the breathing of two people could be heard clearly. Harry nervously fidgeted in his chair until the person he was facing spoke icely.

"Care to explain yourself, Potter?" Startled, Harry cringed and pulled his legs up.

"I'm sorry, Sir." he whispered. "What shall I explain?" he asked nervously.

"You could always start with how you landed on my property so I had to collect you!" he sneered. "Or how you came to be blind."

After a few faltering sentences everything poured out of him. Harry told everything about how he had had to give his unlce the blowjob, the fight that had ensued and how his uncle wanted him to swallow the cleansing agent, which had spilled over his face instead. He told him about his unlce who had seen no use in Harry anymore and dumped him somewhere far away in wilderness, the way had had tried to survive until somebody of the order would finally notice something, but nobody came. Then how he had been wandering about and Snape with his horse had come along.

"And from there you know what happened." he finished.

"Do you want me to pity you for your miserable life now? I can assure you, your life isn't the only one that's wicked." Snape mocked.

"No, I don't want pity." Harry replied, ignoring what he'd heard, though it stung.

"Why did you never use magic? If I recall correctly you showed me you're capable of wand less magic." he asked coldly.

"I didn't want to get expelled from Hogwarts. I already violated the rules for underage magic twice. You very well know that, Sir!" Harry answered boldly. He was angry that Snape was so indifferent towards him now when he'd been almost nice before. He couldn't really understand why the professor hated him so much.

"You never cared for rules before, so why now? Besides, if the beatings were as bad as you say they were, getting expelled should have been the least of your worries, considering you could have died. You know very well that if your safety and life are in danger you may be permitted to use underage magic. No Wizengamot would punish you for using magic to save your life."

"You know that Fugde would do everything to get me expelled!" replied Harry sharply.

"Then why did you do magic here?"

"I was quite certain that you had wards around your manor so nobody could detect dark magic with you being a Death Eater and all." Harry revealed quietly.

"We will go to St Mungo's after you have eaten breakfast to check upon your eyes! Maybe they are not irreparable yet." Snape announced.

"Yes, Sir!" Harry agreed. Maybe hope wasn't really lost yet, he thought happily.

He finished his sandwich quickly and awkwardly waited in his chair for Snape to say something.

"We will travel by floo to Hogwarts, because it's the only floo connection from the manor. From Hgowarts we will walk to Hogsmeade and from there we'll floo to St Mugno's. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Good! Now, come on. I'll go first!" he declared. Harry heard the scraping of a chair's legs and footsteps. Hurriedly he stood and made his way rather uncertainly to the potions master. He seemed to stand before the fireplace, though he couldn't feel any warmth of it.

"Give me your hand!" Snape demanded and Harry complied. Another hand took his. The hand was warm in contrary to his own and bigger than his, but smooth with almost velvety skin. Strange how you pay attention to minor externals once you are blind, he mused. His hand was formed into a cup and a pulver was poured in.

"I hope you know how to floo, so just say 'Hogwarts, Snape quarters'." He said, before he closed Harry's hand into a fist. Harry heard the fire flare up and Snape shouted 'Snape quarters'. Then he was gone. Harry stepped hesitantly into the fireplace and threw the powder down, shouting the direction as well.

The usual twisting started and he instantly began to feel nauseous. Stumbling he exited the fireplace and fell right into Snape's arms. Startled he queaked and broke away from him. He didn't keep his balance, though and tumbled in an ungraceful heap to the floor. He groaned and futilely fought the urge to vomit. Shuddering he swayed. He wanted something to lean against. He was absolutely out of it and didn't even realize the hand that steadied him. He felt something against his lips and opened his mouth obediently. The liquid poured down his throat, making him immediately feel better.

"I could never stand the floo, but this was definitely worse than normal." He slurred.

"Nice to know. Maybe you could have warned me before!" Snape sneered.

"Sorry, Sir!" Harry mumbled, trying to stand up. He was grabbed by his upper arm and hauled to his feet. They were silent until they reached the oak double doors that led outside.

"Sir, could you please walk slower? My hands are already bruised from catching myself." Harry pleaded, grabbing for the hem of Snape's robes.

Snape muttered something inaudible and slowed down. Gratefully Harry fell into a step beside him, still clutching the sleeve of the professor's robes.

When they entered the Three Broomsticks a happy Mme Rosmerta greeted them.

"Hello, professor. What a rare sight. I always get so few customers when the students are on holidays. What can I do for you two? Who's that lovely boy, by the way?"

"It's none of your business. I have to use your floo." Snape said curtly.

"Oh, very well. Visit me sometime, will you?" she chirped.

Snape said nothing and Harry uttered a small 'bye'.

They reached the floo Snape repeated the actions he had done at his home. Soon, they landed in one of the fireplaces of St Mungo's. Harry was as disorientated as the last time, but this time he wasn't sick again, thanks to the potion he'd been given.

It was noisy in the hall and many people ran around. For Harry it was the first contact with so many people in over a month and it scared him. He desperately clung to the professor, almost trying to hide in his vast robes.

"Stop acting so childish!" Snape hissed and tried to jerk his arm free, but Harry wouldn't let go. People randomly grazed him in passing and it sent him into hysterics. Snape, however, either didn't notie or didn't care. He was just in a bad mood because so many people surrounded him and Potter's presence didn't make it any easier. After all, Potter was the reason he had to come here at all. He would never ever have entered St Mungo's willingly by himself. He walked up to the information desk and asked where he could find somebody to check on the boy's eyes. Harry heard him give some directions, but all he caught in the noise was that they had to go to the fourth floor.

Snape guided him along a corridor till they reached the elevators. He stumbled a lot, because he kept tripping over other people's feet. Finally, they stepped into one of the elevators and he felt Snape pressing the button. He heard a lot of different noise around him, and without seeing what it was, he felt insecure and unprotected. He was shivering and he was breathing rapidly. He knew that he would start hyperventilating soon, but he couldn't bring himself to care. All he wanted was to get away. He whimpered quietly, trying to hold the tears in.

There were quite a few people with them in the carriage, bumping into him on occation when new people entered and others left at the landings. He pressed himself into Snape, trying to get away from them. He still didn't really like Snape, but at least Harry knew him, knew there would be little physical harm from him.

He felt the professor wrapping one arm around his small shoulders and Harry gradually stopped shivering, comforted by the meager protection the professor was giving him, though he was still very tense and breathing quickly. The proximity to Snape calmed him somewhat, strange as it was.

He hadn't the time to dwell on it, though, because the elevator stopped at the fourth floor at last. Snape pushed him lightly through the crowd, still holding his arm around Harry's shoulders. On shaking legs, he walked along a deserted corridor. The only footsteps permeating the silence were the professor's and his own. They clicked loudly on the tiles. It was reassuring somehow, because he could hear the echo from the walls, noticing how far the walls were away.

They walked quietly for long minutes until Snape stopped abruptly and knocked on a door.

Harry could hear a feminine voice calling them in and Snape pulled him into the room. The first thing Harry noticed upon entering was the strong smell of disinfectants and the clinical smell a hospital usually had. He could hear footsteps nearing while the woman welcomed them.

"I am Healer Magani. And you are?" she introduced herself. She sounded strict, but her voice was warm end welcoming.

"I'm Professor Snape and this is Laures!" he snarled, decidedly not wanting to be here.

"Now, what can I do for you?" she asked kindly, taking a few more steps nearer. Harry didn't trust her, and inched behind Snape, grabbing his sleeve a little tighter for reassurance.

"We are here, because you may want to have a look at his eyes." Snape answered in a sour tone, sounding a bit cynical.

"Why, yes, yes. Come here, dear!" she said, chipper.

"Where?" Harry asked, staying where he was. Snape, however, stepped aside and gave Harry a light push, who stumbled a few clumsy steps forward. Then a hand fell upon his shoulder, startling him. He flinched heavily and staggered backwards, bumping into something. He gave a frightened cry and dropped to the floor, shaking.

"Oh my! What's wrong with him?" she asked suspiciously.

"He doesn't react well to being touched by strangers, I forgot." Snape explained offhandedly.

Then there were footsteps again and the woman said:

"Come on, Laures. Get up, please!"

Harry nodded jerkily and got to his feet, though he was still shaking.

"Now, give me your hand, will you?" she asked in what she thought was a soothing voice.

Hesitantly Harry extented his hand which was instantly, but gently gripped by the woman. He flinched again, but he didn't pull back this time, and was guided to what he found out afterwards was a couch. After ha had sat down on it, she said.

"I'm going to cast a few spells on you, dear, alright?"

Harry just nodded, fidgeting nervously and a bit scared while picking at the sheets. He felt queasy, though not only because of what this woman was going to do, but about the results, as well.

After the incantation was said he felt a faint tingling behind his eyes. The witch hm-ed and said another spell which he didn't recognize. Finally, she sighed and stepped away.

"Well?" Snape prompted.

"I will be honest with you, Sir!" she said gravely. "If you had come here straight away when this happened, there may have been a chance to restore at least a small amount of his sight, but now his retina is damaged beyond repair! I'm sorry, there is nothing we can do, Sir!"

Harry sat there, dumbstruck. It was irrevocable now. He would never be able to see again. Tears welled up and he raised his hands in front of his face to hide them. He didn't believe that he would be allowed back to Hogwarts anymore, his only home. He would never be able to play Quidditch again. And how was he going to graduate if he couldn't read about anything anymore?

Suddenly he felt two warm arms encircling him, pulling him close to a soft warm body. At first, he was startled and tensed, but then he buried his face in the heavy robes and let the sobs continue to wreck his body.

TBC