Title:
The boy that forgot to die
Author:
evil minded
Date:
November, 27th 2011
Timeframe:
Second year at Hogwarts
Summary:
AU / Harry Potter comes back for his second year at Hogwarts, but something is not the way it should be, and Severus Snape seems the only one able to help the boy that forgot to die … will he manage to really help the Gryffindor before it is too late?
Disclaimer:
I don't really care about Lockhart, Quirrel or Umbridge, nor about most of the other characters in HP … I, however, would like to own one particular Severus Snape – regrettably I do not, Rowling does … but well – I'm borrowing him for a while … just to torture him a bit … I am evil minded after all …
Rating:
M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16
Author's Notes:
Uhm … alright … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the – perhaps – sad language, nor for the subject of my writing …
Also, this is a story written for NaNo, a story written within thirty days only and even though I go over the chapters before uploading them – I do apologize if it might not have the same quality at one point or another than those stories of mine you are used to by now … thank you …
Warning:
Story contains bad language and swearing.
Don't ever use such, it's neither good manners nor proper use of language and never mind how 'cool' it might sound, it surely isn't a sign of intelligence. It won't get you anywhere and people will think less of you if you are unable articulating properly.
Story contains references to child neglect.
Child neglect is a really, really serious thing, and there are a lot of children in our world that are neglected, children that lack food, clothing, often love, and perhaps even a roof over their head – and closing our eyes, and pretending it does not exist – is no solution …
Story contains references to child abuse.
Child abuse is one of the most evil things, and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help but have to live without hope – and again, closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … instead show sympathy, and understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once having been abused … with understanding and with help …
What does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
Previously in "The boy that forgot to die"
"I will not stand for you putting your health in further jeopardy and ghost or not ghost, your life already is at stack, and we cannot afford any more dangerous situations, so if you disobey me again I will have no other chance than to punish you." He then added, wanted to make sure Harry understood completely. "I have forbidden you to go to classes and you sneaked out of not only your room but our quarters, my office and my classroom to do just that! Such a thing will not happen again, is that clear?"
"Yes sir." Harry said as he cringed into a tight ball and averted his eyes, looking away from the professor, wondering what his father meant with – he'd had to punish him. "Sorry, sir." He added, just to be on the safe side. He doubted that it would make that big of a difference, it never had made a difference with his uncle after all, but – well, better safe than sorry. A moment later he could feel himself slipping into darkness when sleep claimed him again.
The boy that forgot to die
Chapter twenty-seven
It is time
Or he's stupid
He had cancelled his sixth year's potions class today.
And he had cancelled his seventh year's potions class for tomorrow, too.
He actually had cancelled his NEWT classes for the entire week – because surely he wouldn't be able to teach anytime that week and he wasn't even sure if he would be able teaching ever again. At the moment at least he didn't feel as if being able to teaching ever again, because what he felt was – it was so damn painful, and he felt so damn helpless while he only could sit there, watching the child laying in bed – something that made him angry at the entire situation.
Harry had barely woken since the day before and his breathing as well as his heartbeat had gotten weaker and weaker, slower, while his movements had become sluggish. He wouldn't eat anything anymore and the few sips of warm chocolate or soup he was barely able convincing the child to drink – it surely wasn't enough for anything.
The child was dying, it was clear.
The ghost was dying as well as the child's body was dying.
He had brought Harry back home yesterday afternoon and he had placed the boy in his body's room where he would have both boys close. He had been worried over his son's reaction if he noticed when he woke, but the child barely had woken to notice it and even now – half awake as he was, he doubted that he noticed his surroundings at all.
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Harry could feel stern eyes on him, watching him intently and he took a deep breath, forcing his own eyes open, because he knew a gaze that felt as stern and as intense, as piercing as this one, it only could mean that Snape was watching him, that his father was watching him, because only that man could pierce people – and ghosts for that matter – with his dark eyes.
Why was he so tired? Was it that now? His father had told him that he would die if he didn't go back into his body and he had told him that it would happen soon, but was it that now? Was it happening that soon? He looked over into the face of the man that was watching him, his father, and he became scared.
His father was pale, paler than normal, and sitting in the armchair that stood beside the bed, looking as if he had been sitting in there the entire night. He looked tired, very tired, and he didn't look the least bit convinced that this thing with those potions would work at all, the always so dour and composed man looked worried, very, very worried, nearly as if he were frightened and it scared Harry to see the always so cold and collected man like this. Because if this particular man was worried like this – then it made clear to him just how dangerous the situation was. But – at the same time it made clear how much the Potions Master seemed to value him. Him!
There was someone who cared for him! For him, Harry!
And it was Snape of all people!
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When Severus felt Harry's eyes on him, he turned to his son, looking at the boy's tired and pale face inquiringly and he was puzzled for a moment when Harry fearfully looked away from him.
But then – well, the boy knew that this was the end. Of course, he knew. Not only could he most likely feel it, but also was the child no idiot and surely he could see it while watching him, Snape, and if he looked the way he felt, then surely he must look very worried.
Taking a deep breath he knew – he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer, it was now or never, before the child would be too weak to handle all those potions and what they might do in his body – or ghostlike body.
"You are still not ready to go back into your body I take it?" He softly asked while leaning towards the bed and running his fingers over the pale forehead to brush away some strands of the black hair before his palm came to rest on the child's cheek.
The boy that had turned back to him, again looked away, guiltily, and the Potions Master took another deep breath before he gently increased the pressure his hand had on the child's cheek, turning the pale face back into his direction.
"I do take this as a no, and no, it is not a criticism." He softly said. "But you do realize that we have to take the next step and use those potions now?"
"Know." The boy softly said, nearly whispered. "Sorry though."
"There is no need for that, child." He just as softly answered, keeping his palm on the child's cheek while he gently ran his thumb over his son's brow. "I do understand your reasoning and I do understand that you simply have reached your limits. I just do not like it, that I have to jeopardize your life. But there is no other chance now. It is now or never, so shall we get it over with before it is too late?" He softly asked, earning a weak nod of the boy's head and without another word he reached over at the nightstand where he had placed the wooden grate that contained the required potions, knowing that it was now or never as – perhaps in a few hours the child would be too weak for any transformation or for dealing with those potions, that perhaps in a few more hours, the child would be dead even.
"I need you to drink this potion." He then said, taking one of the vials and reaching it at the boy ghost's form. "It will create a temporary copy of you as we do need some form of a ghost to get your body back to live the way it should."
"A temporary copy?" The boy asked, frowning but taking the potion – as it seemed the boy was ready to take all risks even if he didn't know what exactly was to do.
"I will give your temporary copy another potion, so that it will become permanent as soon as it is brought together with your body, but you can't create a permanent copy to begin with, this is impossible and would go against all laws of magic – everything we conjure or transfigure will either vanish with time or go back into its original form sooner or later." He said and the boy took the potion, his fingers trembling, and then he downed it, shuddering at the taste. "We can use building spells or craftsman spells which are permanent, but a simple transfiguration will only be temporary."
A moment later he could watch the ghost form wavering, again the molecules changing and dancing as if they wanted to regroup but weren't able to form a halfway solid body again and the boy gasped, scared, reaching his hand over to him – to him! Snape! To search comfort from him!
Closing his eyes for a moment he took the hand that held onto him with a force that was nearly startling while the molecules every now and then threatened to vanish completely before they regrouped and formed new ones that seemed to battle with the original molecules, a battle neither of them seemed to win as they wavered and wavered, threatening to destroy each other in their silent war – surely nothing that could be considered as a pleasant experience if the boy's pale and scared face was any indication.
"It will go well." He whispered whenever the child tightened his grip on his hand, used even both of his hand at one point to hold onto him in a deathlike grip, as if the grip he had on his, Snape's, real form could anchor his ghost form here in this world and keep it from vanishing completely and forever.
"Is this what could happen?" The boy asked, his voice soft and scared. "That I vanish? Just … just like that?"
"Yes." He softly answered and he would like doing nothing else than taking the child into his arms, but he wasn't able to. While the boy was able to hold onto him with his hands, right now the only parts of his body that seemed to stay halfway solid, perhaps because of his deathlike grip even, the remainder of his form wavered and wavered on, untouchable. But yes, it was one of the risks. There were more, but the boy didn't need to know that, not now, he was scared enough for the moment.
Another few minutes went by, minutes during which the boy didn't say anything anymore but was clinging to him as if his life depended on it, minutes during which he over and over again tried to size the ghostlike child until he finally was able to and then pulled the boy into his arms to hold him, to give him this kind of safety, even if he knew that it wasn't a real safety. If the boy's ghost would vanish now – he wouldn't be able to keep a hold on it, to do anything against it, it would be gone forever.
He ignored all the moments when his arms went through the form again, unable to hold molecules that changed yet again, but then the battle of the molecules ceased and finally stopped, those that were copied leaving the ghostly form to regroup anew just beside the child's pale and trembling form, laying there still and motionless.
His son in his arms took a shuddering breath and he could see that the child nearly cried for a moment with relief, before he sagged against him.
"Is it even alive?" The child asked, daring a glance at the copy of his ghost.
"Yes, it is." He softly answered. "He is. He just does not have your knowledge of how to move, of how to speak or of how to do anything by himself. He will need your body, he wouldn't be able to survive without it. I need you to stay awake, Harry. I will have to give your physical form a potion and you cannot fall asleep during the entire procedure. Do you understand? You have to stay awake, never mind how tired you are."
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
The boy nodded at him sitting up in the bed and with narrowed eyes the Potions Master took the next vial from the wooden grate, went over to the other bed.
"This one will allow your body, your physical form, to accept the copy of your ghost form instead of your actual ghost that would belong to it." He explained to the boy, knowing that not only had the child to know what would happen with him and with his body, but also knowing that he less likely would fall asleep if his mind was occupied.
"That would belong to it?" Harry, the ghost asked, watching him pouring the potion down his body's throat and holding his head back, massaging his throat so that he could swallow the liquid – a strange experience, watching Snape handling his body, really. "So, we are fooling my body, aren't we?"
"Yes." He said, quietly, knowing that this was the next risk they were taking.
"And what if … what if it won't accept the copy?" The boy then asked, as if reading his thoughts and he frowned while placing the empty glass vial back into the wooden grate. "Then it won't work?"
"No, then it won't work." He quietly admitted, taking the next vial. "Do not fall asleep, Harry."
"Won't." The boy said. "'M too nervous now."
"Good." The Potions Master couldn't help saying while approaching the copy of the ghost form and kneeling in front of the now sitting form, locking his dark eyes with the ghostlike green ones, watching them for a moment and easily noticing how empty they were, startling empty, after he was used to the expressive green eyes of the ghost child, the same green eyes which showed fear, happiness, sadness, curiosity, or anger, pain sometimes even.
"At the moment you are a temporary ghost, child." He slowly said to the form that looked at him questioningly, clearly not understanding what was going on and he didn't know if the ghost understood what he wanted from him even. "And we need you to go into this body, that is yours actually – and for that we need you to drink this potion, that will make you permanent the moment you go into your body, because your body surely would die the moment you vanished into it if you were not permanent before an actual fusion could be formed."
Well, maybe he had explained it a bit complicated, but well, he only could hope that the boy would understand. They didn't have too much time for a lot of explanations. But well, if he had expected an answer then he had expected wrong, because there was none, the copy of the boy's ghost only looking at him questioningly and not understanding.
A moment later however the ghost-copy was reaching out his hand to take the potion.
"Surely not." He huffed at the child. "I won't risk you dropping this vial because your fingers are not used to holding anything. Just open your mouth and I will pour the potion in. Do you understand?"
But well, again there wasn't an answer.
"Alright." He murmured, ignoring Harry's "he's stupid" and holding the vial at the copy's lips. "Open up." He ordered and then dipped the vial the moment the boy obeyed. "Good, and now swallow." He ordered, watching the boy trying to do this, the throat convulsing with untrained muscles trying to transport the liquid down, while nearly choking. "Swallow all of it! That's it. That was well done." He then added, ignoring the boy ghost's, Harry's, gasp at him, praising the copy of a ghost of a child for something like – swallowing liquid.
"Do not forget Harry, that your copy has just learned how to swallow." He answered the one form that was conscious, aware and able to form coherent thoughts and words. The boy sighed but then nodded, clearly not liking but understanding it.
"On to the next potion." He murmured, more to himself than to one of the three children he had sitting – or laying in different stages of consciousness in this room at the present time. Merlin! What a mess!
"I need you to go over to your body now." He said, addressing the copy again while holding another vial in his hand.
And for a few long moments nothing happened, as if the copy didn't know what to do, but then he slowly floated – not walked like Harry the ghost would do – but floated and he only could guess that, as this copy never had learned how to walk in the first place, he did the only thing ghosts normally did, he floated.
The form hovered for a moment over the boy's body before looking over at both of them, first at Harry the ghost and then at him, Severus.
"I know that this is strange to you, and I know that you – are scared." He softly said to the hovering form. "But I need you to take over your body or it will die."
The form looked at Harry the ghost again, as if it knew that they were fooling his body, as if it knew that it originally was the ghost's place he would have to take.
"'M sorry." The boy whispered, clearly knowing what his copy was thinking and he placed his hand onto the child's shoulder.
"He's 'n pain." The copy whispered with a voice that was hollow and barely audible, but clearly accusingly.
"Yes, he most likely is." Severus admitted to this form, knowing that lies would get him nowhere. It had to be done one way or another. "And yet I ask you to do this. I need you to take possession of your body so that I can give the next potion to both of you, the potion that would bind you to your body."
"It'd be his." The copied form said, accusingly pointing at the ghost form that was sitting on the bed beside him, Severus, looking quite miserable with guilt.
"Yes, it would be his." He again admitted, his hand still resting on his son's shoulder. "But he cannot go back in there. He has had enough on his shoulders already and he simply cannot go back, he has reached his limits. You will have to do this for him, or you all will die. The body's life is already dangling on a string, as is the ghost form's life – and without them, you won't be able to survive either."
For another few minutes the copy of Harry's ghost hovered over his body before he cast another look at him, Snape.
"You'll be here?" It then asked. "You'll be helping?"
"I will." He answered, seriously and with a heavy sigh the copy floated down, lowering itself until it came in touch with the bodily form. It shivered and gasped for a moment when it touched Harry's body and Snape knew that he felt the remaining pain the physical Harry clearly still felt, but then it took a deep breath and a moment later it was gone, had gone into the body and quickly the Potions Master went over, poured the potion that would allow the boy's body and the ghost's copy to grow together and to form a symbiosis down the child's throat.
Only one potion left.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
"Dad?" The child asked, the small ghost form, the soft voice scared and as small as that of a little child and he nearly held his breath at the word, looking over at the ghost form of his son, the boy sitting on his bed and looking scared for all he could tell – and quickly he went over to the child, knowing that if this boy used a word like 'dad', then it was serious, then he had reached the end of his rope.
"What is it, child?" He asked, his eyes searching the green ones of his son.
"What if … what if it won't work?" The boy asked. "You … you'll be mad then and …"
"I won't be mad." He quietly said. "I am not mad. I am worried, but I am not mad."
"It's my fault, though." The boy then said, apparently needing something, anything, he could blame himself with. "That this copy now will be in pain, it's my fault, I should be the one back in there. I've made everything wrong, and I've caused everyone pain and …"
"You have done nothing wrong, Harry." He quickly reassured, scowling at the idiot child. "And it is not your fault. Do place the blame where it belongs, namely at the Dursleys, instead of innocent people like yourself. You have done nothing wrong, and like I informed your copy – you have had enough on your shoulders already and you simply have reached your limits. Not to mention that your physical form is in not too much pain anymore. Most of the injuries we have healed and for any remaining pain your body is under the influence of pain relievers. And it will get better with time, too. But for now – there is only one potion to go now, the one that will keep you, as a ghost, alive. I won't be able transforming you into an actual living child, but with the potion, I can keep you alive. I only have to know if this really is what you wish, Harry."
"Do." The boy murmured, pleaded even. "Never had a fam'ly an' … please? Just please?"
"Of course." He said, handing the vial over to the boy ghost.
His son took the vial, but then, and after another moment of looking up at him in hesitation – the small ghost form turned on the bed so that he was sitting with his back towards him and then he leaned back, giving him, Severus, no other chance than quickly holding him, or the child would have fallen off the bed.
And he did, holding the form while the child eyed the vial and then emptied it in one go and with a soft "so be it then".
Half a minute later the small form in his arms slumped down, frightened green eyes closing and then the body of the child he was holding went limp and completely still, causing him to hold his breath while he lifted trembling fingers to a pale and thin neck to feel for a pulse.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
To be continued
Next time in "The boy that forgot to die"
When hope awakes
Added author's note
thank you for reading - and yes, I would be glad if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you
also, like in the past, I have installed the house cup – with each review, please state your house, so that your house can get points. There won't be loss of points, only gains … may the best house with the most reviews win …
Please also note that I have installed a new category: Hogwarts, as one reader or another (Jostanos, just for example) prefers to review for Hogwarts itself instead of one of her houses … and who knows, perhaps one day a reader might come from another wizarding school to add their review … thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing …
House Cup:
At the present time it looks like this:
Slytherin 70
Gryffindor 36
Ravenclaw 25
Hufflepuff 09
Hogwarts 21