I Don't Want to be a Hero - Second Year
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As Severus Sleeps
Severus wandered away from the ghosts of James and Lily. As much as he wanted to continue watching his son it was heart-rending to see him live on without him. Being near the ghosts of the child's parents made Severus feel eerily as if he were dead as well.
Severus could sense that Harry was coming to visit and that was always a potent reminder that he was alive, and simply slept.
"Hi, dad," Harry's voice warbled into his mind.
Severus had been walking in the Forbidden Forest when a clearing lit by beams of sunshine through the limbs beckoned to him. There was a large tree to settle against, and Severus did so.
"It's good to see you, Harry," sighed Severus to the voice of his son. "How has your week been?" Even though Harry could not hear his dream-self it made him feel normal to speak when someone came to visit. It was interesting that he heard, and felt, all those that came to see him.
"I quit Quidditch, dad. I hope you don't mind but all the practises and the games were during when I want to visit you on the weekends. I miss you a lot."
Severus lifted his hand as he felt the feathering of his son's hair brush over it. He smiled. "I miss you, too, Harry. I met your parents here. They watch over you all the time. I thought I would be jealous of James and Lily but I am not. It is… good to know that you have someone watching over you. I hope you do not mind it."
"Dad?" Severus felt the nervous hesitation in his son's voice. "I talked to Professor Dumbledore this week. It was… okay, I think. He was talking to me about a lot of grown-up things that… well, I really felt like a little kid. I don't mean like twelve like I am now but as if I were… four. It's like I wanted everything he told me to just go over my head like I didn't understand but I did. It's kind of scary how much I did understand."
Severus sat up as he felt the heat of a tear against his arm. What had that old man said to make his son cry?
"Professor Dumbledore told me, dad… he promised to keep us safe and especially to keep my mum safe for you but he didn't. I'm sorry."
More tears joined the first one to Severus' consternation. "Harry, it's not something you should apologise for. It was not your fault." Severus wished his son could hear him. He wished he could hold, and comfort Harry.
"Professor Dumbledore's sorry, and I believe him…but..." Severus again felt the tears but now they were accompanied by the silk of his son's hair against his wrist. "He sent my stuff back to the Dursleys and I got mad at him because he BELIEVED it was what I wanted. I know he's sick dad, and his memory's all messed up…" Harry sniffled, and then Severus was sure that his son had crawled up onto his hospital bed beside him. "I just wish I hadn't been so curious. I want to just sleep away from everything like you."
Severus felt tortured in a way that he had never been from a curse as he heard his child weep. After a few minutes he heard the voice of Lucius drawing Harry away, soothing his tears, and sending him out of the room. Moments later he felt his head being lifted onto Lucius knee, and then he felt his own hair being brushed.
"Cleaning Spells are convenient, my friend, but they lead to laziness. Your volunteer carer has not thought to comb your hair with a comb since you have gone to sleep."
Severus smiled as the comb scraped pleasantly against his scalp. Combing his hair was one of those few pleasures the Potions Master had always indulged in before classes would begin. It was a way of calming himself before he had to face all those little witches and wizards.
He would brew his own shampoo and conditioner that had sage, comfrey, and a touch of Pimenta dioica (allspice) to make it uniquely his. He had done the same for Harry although he preferred bayberry root, and maple elm leaf as opposed to comfrey and allspice.
"I shall have to bring your shampoo the next time I visit, Severus," as he worked a particularly stubborn knot through the comb. "The Cleaning Charm or Spell your volunteer carer is using is turning your hair into a snarled mess."
The dream-Severus winced as he felt his real hair being tugged.
"Honestly, what does that witless volunteer carer do? Throw a Cleaning Charm from the door, and hope for the best?" griped Lucius. "Your hair is far from greasy, my friend."
It had, to a tiny degree, bothered him when students snickered behind his back calling him a 'greasy-haired bat'. He never had greasy hair!
"I believe I might order a sponge bath for you this week, Severus. Your carer is quite a pretty, little witch, even if she is afraid of the terrifying Potions Master," Lucius chuckled.
Severus cringed. "Order the bath for yourself, you… goat," he sighed. "You are supposed to be expecting another child with your wife, Lucius. Should you not be…"
"I believe I am finally falling in love with my wife, Severus," Lucius shook his head, and his hair brushed against the sleeping wizard's cheek.
"You are falling in love?" Severus snorted. "I find that hard to believe. Are you not the one who has boasted to me of all the witches you….?"
"Strange, is it not, Severus? I suspect you are snorting derisively at me right now." Lucius had lifted Severus' head onto his lap in order to comb his hair. He now gently placed the man's head back on his pillow. "Narcissa has changed, my friend. Ever since Bellatrix was sent to the wizarding prison in Siberia she has been different. It has been… refreshing to not have my pregnant wife hating me for… for 'forcing a child upon her'."
Severus' brow furrowed. He had never known this.
"With Voldemort's true death… and, thank you for what you did, Severus… Narcissa has been a kinder woman. She was always undeniably a beauty but she had that sharp tongue that so reminded me of her mad sister."
Lucius laughed and it echoed within Severus as being rich, plump, full of life. A sound he had not heard from his friend since the first time he had met him. It was soothing, and healed a tear in his humanity.
"Me! Falling in love with my own wife! I am certain you would have the perfect sarcastic rejoinder for me for being such a foolish wizard but I would ignore you. I have not looked upon another witch as a conquest since Narcissa told me, a smile upon her pretty face, of our blessing."
Severus chuckled to himself. It was interesting to be in this state as he knew at once when people were lying to him, and Lucius was speaking true.
"Narcissa is all ready so different in that she enjoys her pregnancy. It was something we were both missing with Dragon…"
Severus then felt the warmth of his friend's hand upon his chest over his heart.
"Narcissa will be bringing Harry next weekend to visit, Severus. Until then, sleep easy."
Severus wished his friend a silent farewell, leaned his head back against the tree, and closed his eyes. At least asleep seven days only felt like an hour in this odd dream-world of his. He drifted further down into his mind, and peacefully slept.
"Mithter? Hewwo, Mithter?"
Severus roused to the feel of tiny finger-tips tapping the back of one hand. Before him was the four year old 'Little Sevvie'. The child smiled up at him as he was resting on his knees, and his bum on his heels. As he smiled at the child the small boy began to change. He lost his baby fat, and the thinness that marked the lean years had just begun. The child, now about six years of age was taller than the 4 year old was. He carried, with possessiveness, a familiar old, gold watch.
"I wanted to show you mah watch," he spoke carefully as a child might who is aware of a lisp that drew others to his difference. "Mah da give it to me."
The older Severus took the watch with the gravity it was offered. As he studied his father's watch he also recalled with painful clarity how mother and child began to distance themselves from Tobias Snape by 'Little Sevvie' becoming Severus.
"Tis a fine watch, young man," said the older Severus gravely.
Little Severus took his watch back. "Was that your son I heard, Mith… Mister?"
"Harry," Severus nodded. "My son, yes."
Little Severus looked down at his watch. His voice was melancholy as he spoke, "Dis reminds me that mah da loves me. Does your Harry have something to remind him that you love him?"
Severus nodded as he thought of the very watch he had given to Harry on his birthday. He also recalled that his son wanted a vest. He smiled. A vest would be the perfect Christmas present for this year.
"Misthter, do you know anything about baseball?" asked Little Severus with a grin.
"Most certainly I do," the older Severus nodded as his black eyes glittered with delight. From the time he could speak Tobias had spoken often to his son of his love of American baseball. He wondered if he might be able to organise a game in his dreams.
November - 1992
The rest of November continued on and was a series of weekends for Harry of the days he was able to visit his father. Harry related to his father how he was doing in each of his classes and that nobody liked the substitute Potions teacher the Headmistress had found.
Madame Ellen Clorista claimed a heritage of Spain but from questions by Draco and Hermione (who had both been to various areas of Spain) her claim was doubtful.
Harry told his father that he even doubted the woman was a real Potions Mistress because she taught everyone from the first year textbook, and was constantly asking her students (in the form of a suspicious quiz) what many of the ingredients were. Harry also giggled when he informed his sleeping father that they ran out of ingredients because Madame Clorista forgot to order more. He was not aware that the "dreaming" Severus who always heard whoever visited him speaking to him, chuckled as well; then despaired over all of the make-up lessons he would have to do.
Not being an adult Harry passed along to his sleeping father all the important gossip one needed to know about the students. Things such as Gregory Goyle loved chocolate so much that he snuck it into class until it made him very sick. Harry learned that there was a specific potion that did not just aid one in the relief of an upset stomach, but dealt with the poisoning of over-indulgence.
Pansy Parkinson was trying to attach herself to the smartest second year Slytherin boy with the last name Tarkanian. Seamus Finnegan had become famous for accidentally swallowing a mouthful of pebbles as he demonstrated how his sister was ridding herself of her Irish accent. Neville Longbottom talked to the tall fern in the boy's second year dorm room; about his weird Uncle Algy. The fern was getting VERY big. The gossip was rounded off with the latest tale of one of the Twins pranks, or inventions. The latest invention was a pastille sweet that made one "puke".
In his dreams Severus cringed at the antics, and inventions of Fred and George Weasley. They were talented, he acknowledged to himself, but it was a wonder they had not blown each other up or poisoned someone, yet.
20 Nov 1992 - A Friday
On a Friday morning Harry combed his hair, which was now beneath his shoulder blades, and allowed Hermione to tie it in a black velvet ribbon. He did not want his hair tied back but the witch insisted. Of course, after Luna complimented his hair, it was easier to tolerate.
Friday was Charms, Ancient Runes, Herbology, and double Potions.
In Charms there was a practical test to test the muscle memory on wand movements. Harry did well on at least 75% of the test. Hermione, of course, was perfect. Ron was all right through 50% of the test, but then he got frustrated, and did any movement he wanted. Draco was higher than Harry at 90% of the test. Vincent Crabbe singed Professor Flitwick's eyebrows, and failed. Also, class ended early as the diminutive professor went to the infirmary to get his burns treated.
Ancient Runes was where he had to finally turn in his translation of a fragment of a spell. Harry got his right, and Professor Babbling gave him 20 points to Gryffindor for very well done job. Draco, too, was successful in his translation, and he collected 20 points for Slytherin.
Unfortunately, the majority of the class did not get their fragments right so the spell was still a puzzle. Professor Babbling shuffled the fragments so that everyone got a new one, and the translating began anew.
Lunch was after class, and Harry nearly ran to the Great Hall to join his friends. Draco ran with him clutching his new fragment of the Ancient Runes spell. Over lunch they discussed what the spell might be. Draco was sure it was a spell that made you smarter for a short time, and Harry was sure that it was a spell to make your dreams whatever you wanted them to be for one night. Ron guessed that it was a spell to make your enemies vomit slugs all day, and Hermione told them they were all idiots. Ginny wondered if the spell might be for Quidditch, and Luna was certain the spell was to reveal the 'lost hiding place of the elusive yet chequered zizzer-zazzer-zuzz'. Fred and George decided the spell was for a new, grotesque sweet.
Herbology was after lunch and it was an encounter with Devil's Snare, how to take a snipping, and re-plant it. For the Quartet the lesson was 'Don't Ever Trust Devil's Snare'.
While trying to re-plant his Devil's Snare Harry's wrist was caught by several small tendrils, squeezed, and bruised. Draco intended to take a few snippings from his Devil's Snare but they got into a wrestling match where Draco was nearly strangled. Hermione was too cautious in approaching her plant and she was caught by Pansy Parkinson's large potted Devil's Snare. Ron threw a few epithets that questioned the ancestry of his Devil's Snare's origins and it promptly took his paring snips and nearly snipped something important on his anatomy; fortunately the Devil's Snare only shredded his robe, and tie.
Professor Sprout set everyone who had scuffles with their obnoxious plants to rights. However, it was Neville Longbottom who charmed his Devil's Snare that wound up with 50 points for Gryffindor. He performed every task to perfection, and without adverse incident.
Double Potions was the last class of the day. Their substitute instructor was the dubious Madame Clorista; a rather too thin witch that wore a dress of heavy muslin, a drab apron. She kept her straggly, straight her brown hair in a tight bun, and her spectacles always fell down her nose so she kept pushing them up.
Today should have been a day for brewing a potion but when Madame Clorista had finally ordered ingredients they were the wrong ones. The so-called Potions Mistress had ordered the ingredients from a list of ingredients Severus used in his lab. She decided to do a basic lecture on harvesting one's own ingredients. Needless to say it was a lecture they had heard from Professor Snape in their first year, and they were all bored.
Halfway through the class just when Harry was about to nod off the door to the Potions class was slammed open.
"What are you doing here, you rapscallion?" demanded Madame Clorista.
The student, a seventh year prefect was breathing huffily. He took a moment to catch his breath, then announced, "Harry Snape's to go to the Headmistress office right away, ma'am!"
Fearing the worst, that he had lost his father, Harry did not stay for questions. Pushing away from his desk he ran out of the classroom. A moment later Draco followed. With a shrug to Ron, Hermione pushed away from her desk and left. Ron huffed. With an air of disinterest (in Potions or Snape no one knew) he pushed away from his desk, and trotted off after his friends.