I Don't Want to be a Hero - Second Year
Chapter Thirty-Four
Wake Up, Dad!
21 Dec 1992
Healer Smethwyck walked into the Waiting Room a half-hour after he had asked Lucius to take Harry out of Severus' room. The two adults spoke softly, and Harry tried to look like he was not listening but he did his best to make out what the Healer was telling Professor Malfoy. This is what he heard:
Healer Smethwyck's words were peppered with his tolerant sympathy "... normal… just takes… we shall try… but if Severus is not…"
Lucius' words were sharp, and worried, "What if… that's makes no sense… you cannot… die?"
As soon as Harry heard the word 'die' he lost all pretense of not listening, and barged into the adult conversation. "What's wrong with my dad? Why won't he wake up?" he demanded of the Healer.
"Harry," cautioned Lucius of the boy's hovering rudeness in his demand.
"I'm sorry, Healer, but please…" Harry begged to understand.
The Healer addressed Harry, "This is not unexpected, Harry. It is a risk that the patient agrees to when the re-growing of an organ is required." Harry frowned. Part of him was sure he wanted to understand, but another (younger part) of himself did not. "The Dreamtime is a Healing Sleep that is invoked with both a spell and a potion. It enables the patient to create and manipulate an environment that will keep the mind stimulated."
"You said it was a risk," pushed Harry. "No one told me there was a risk. What's the risk?"
"The risk is in the Dreamtime World itself, Harry," replied Healer Smethwyck gently. "It becomes addictive, and if the draw of the dream is too strong we are unable to wake the patient."
"And, dad could die? I heard you!" Harry accused. "I heard you say the word 'die'! Is my dad going to die?"
Lucius tried to wrap Harry into an embrace but the boy shrugged away, and stepped aggressively closer to the Healer.
"I want the truth, Healer," Harry demanded with the authority of someone older than himself. "Will my dad die if you can't wake him up?"
The Healer hesitated, and Lucius tried once more to draw Harry into his arms. The Healer held up a hand to stop Lucius' actions. "Yes, Harry," Healer Smethwyck said solemnly. "If we do not wake your father he will remain in the Dreamtime World, and he will die."
"No," stated Harry sharply. Again Lucius tried to restrain the boy but his shook off the hands that touched his shoulders. "No! My dad isn't going to leave me. He promised he'd be back!" Harry ran out of the Waiting Room.
Lucius was ready to pursue him but the Healer stopped him. "Give the child some time alone with his father, Mr. Malfoy. We know that Severus is aware of anyone that comes into his room, so it is possible he will awaken for his son."
Lucius' lips thinned as he looked to the empty hallway beyond the open door to the Waiting Room. Reluctantly he dropped into a chair, and then allowed his head to drop into his hand as he muttered a prayer to Merlin in an ancient tongue of Welsh.
Severus found himself in the accursed Shrieking Shack where Lupin had changed once a month into his werewolf form when he was a student at Hogwarts. The door was locked, and the windows had been boarded up. He had heard the call to awaken from his dreaming but he had quickly found himself trapped within the Shrieking Shack. He had kicked the door, tried to break the wooden planks that covered the windows, and then finally he had shouted in anger, and then in desperation.
"Quiet, Snape."
Severus turned to find himself face-to-face not with the solid form of James Potter's shade, but the silvery, ghostly form. "How did you get in here, Potter."
"I'm a ghost you dim git," he snapped wryly.
"So I can see," grumbled Severus. "Why are you bothering me now?"
"Because you are putting up such a fuss at the Healers that you can't hear my son crying and talking to you," James replied flatly. "Now, listen to Harry, and quit worrying. You have to take care of my son, and he will get you out of here." James faded, and Severus wanted to go after him and hit the man… the ghost… but he could not.
All of a sudden he was now not just trapped in the Shrieking Shack but the sound of his heart rose up like a thunder. Severus could sense his son was in his hospital room but his heart was beating so rapidly, so angrily, he could not hear if Harry was saying anything.
Dropping to the floor into the Lotus position Severus closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his heartbeat, and lowering the volume until he could no longer hear it. Soon his heart beat did calm, and the thunder faded until all he heard were Harry's nearly silent sobs; the weeping he allowed himself when he could no longer hold back his despair, and did not want anyone to hear him cry.
"Harry," Severus' voice choked but he forced the weakness aside. "Harry, I am here. Please… shhh, child."
"Daddy, you gotta wake… up…" Harry pleaded softly through hiccuping sobs. "You promised me you'd be back. I've waited so long. Please wake up." A fresh bout of tears bent Harry over until his head lay upon his father's hand.
Severus felt the tears as heated rain that insinuated itself in the locked room of the Shrieking Shack. The tears of rain fell harsh, and in large drops that soon had the wizard soaked to his skin. He did not move, though, and concentrated upon his son with every last ounce of his will and his magic.
"Harry."
The gentle voice was not his father's and the hand that touched his back was also not familiar to him. Harry jerked away from the voice, and the touch, and snapped his wand into his hand.
Harry was looking through tear blurred eyes at the face of a man with unkempt dirty blond hair, muddy brown eyes, and wrinkles of age around the eyes, and mouth. The man was short but still taller than Harry. He held up his hands in surrender.
"Harry, it's Regulus. Reggie. I came to visit Severus."
"Reggie?" asked Harry as he sniffled, and blinked rapidly to clear his eyes. "You don't look like Reggie."
The old man smiled, "Polyjuice, Harry. Tell me why you're crying."
"Dad… he-he won't wake up. The doctor said if he doesn't he'll die. I don't want to lose him," Harry sniffled again, and tried to stem his tears, but he could feel them dripping onto his cheeks. "What do I do, Reggie?"
"Remember what you told me about your wand, Harry?" asked Regulus as he sat down beside the boy. "You told me it did well with magic but that someday it would help you to heal people."
"But I don't know any healing spells," hiccuped Harry.
"Were you in the room when the Healer first tried to wake your father?" asked Regulus. Harry nodded. "Then you heard the spell they used for waking a patient. Didn't you?"
"I did, but I don't know what it was," Harry replied miserably.
"Yes, you do," smiled the old Regulus under the Polyjuice. "You heard the Healer, you heard the spell. Now, close your eyes, and just concentrate."
Severus could sense both Regulus and Harry. He could hear them, and the rain had stopped. "The spell is Excita dormientis, Harry!" shouted Severus. "Cast it, Harry! I'll wake up for you!"
"I did hear it," said Harry with a slight smile. "Excite dorments? Excita dormientis! That was it!" He opened his eyes. "I've got it, Reggie!"
"Good boy! Cast the spell, then. I'd bet the entire Black estate that Severus will wake up for you," Regulus patted the boy on the back. Footsteps in the hallway alerted him that someone was near. "I have to go. Cast the spell, Harry."
Without a sound, Regulus slipped out of the room. Harry faced his father, held out his wand, and just for a moment he wondered how he ought to move the wand. In Charms class he was taught that all spells had specific wand movements but his father had told him one evening that the movements did not matter; it was the intent that was more important, more powerful.
Only for a moment did Harry hesitate before touching the tip of his wand to his father's forehead. He took a deep, and calming breath and willing his father to wake, he cast the spell. "Excita dormientis." Harry leaned forward, then whispered into his father's ear, "Wake up, dad."