Title:
The boy that forgot to die
Author:
evil minded
Date:
November, 9th 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"
"Do you think that he will go back to his body anytime soon?" The charms teacher asked, and he took a deep breath.
"He will be going back the moment he has learned that he can go back, that there is someone who really cares about him, and I fear not anytime sooner." He answered.
"Well, then we have to tell him." Pomona said, smiling happily.
"That will work nicely." He drawled sarcastically, his dark eyes blazing angrily. "He won't believe words anymore, but only actions. He needs to trust the adults around him and that won't happen anytime soon, after he has been neglected and abused for years, and to the point of his death – while none of his teachers have intervened."
The boy that forgot to die
Chapter nine
Surely, Snape would stay Snape?
Or a chamber behind
He didn't really understand what was going on anymore.
Flashback
He would give anything for being back in the hospital wing – for the first time since he was attending Hogwarts, he actually wanted being there. Back there, he hadn't been alone and shunned, at least. But he had known that Snape would send him away. He had kept his body in the hospital wing and had sent him, the ghost away, and he had known that this would happen. Snape, apparently, was able dealing with his still body that wasn't able to speak and say his mind or give contradictions, that wouldn't look at the Potions Master or wouldn't annoy him in any other way.
Of course, it was much easier handling the always sleeping form of his body! And so of course he had sent him, the ghost, away! He had known that this would happen, so what?
But being here, in his dorm – he'd felt alone, and he'd been scared when he had been back the first night, last night, and he had silently cried, had tried to cast a silencing shield around his bed like he so often had done since he attended a wizarding school to keep the nightmares secret from the other boys in his dormitory, but he hadn't been able to, his shield seemed to have lost its effect. The other Gryffindors had seen that, that he wasn't able doing magic anymore, of course they had seen and then they had avoided him even more, had even started teasing him for being a ghost and a squib-ghost no less, or a ghost-squib, it varied.
But he didn't understand!
They had been friends, hadn't they? At least he had been friends with Ron and Hermione, but the only one who did not tease him and who didn't call him a squib-ghost or something like that – was Neville now. But Neville, too, avoided him after he'd been cornered by the others for speaking with him, the ghost.
Nearly headless Nick had scolded them for it, had told them that he, as a ghost, did not approve of them handling him, Harry, the way they did, but he couldn't actually do anything either and neither did he speak with him – no blame here, he wasn't a hundred percent real ghost after all.
Well – never mind what, never mind if being alive or dead – he would always be the freak, as it seemed.
End flashback
First Snape had taken him from the great hall and to the hospital wing and had cared for him, then he had taken his body from the Dursleys and after that he had dumped him, the ghost, at the Gryffindor tower. A day, or two, later he had come and taken him from there, after he had been very angry at something he didn't know, and he had taken him to a room that was down in the dungeons, and behind his office, one that was clean and cosy, actually. There wasn't a bed, but a very large and comfortable sofa, a table with a large armchair and a wardrobe. There was a bathroom even close by, with a shower, but the strangest thing was – there was a large window even if he knew that Snape's office was deep in the dungeons and therefore deep beneath the earth.
Walking down the staircase that led into the dungeons and to the potions classroom he wondered where he would be placed next.
Or with whom?
He wasn't so sure anymore if his places and the persons around him would stay the same or if he would be tossed from one place to the next and from one person to the next.
No, he really didn't understand what was going on anymore.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
Well, and then Professor McGonagall, just for example.
Never before had he seen her so angry and strict like for the past two days.
During meals in the great hall she had looked angry, cold and stern whenever she had looked over at them, the Gryffindors, and at first he had thought that it was because of him, Harry, being a ghost and then being Snape's son even, that McGonagall surely would not be very happy with him because of it, but she had looked like this at all of them, and especially at Ron, Hermione, Dean and Seamus, and she had never spoken to them since Snape had taken him from the tower. She hadn't even inclined her head in greeting when passing them!
And that … meant something, because normally McGonagall was a very polite witch, strict and demanding, cold-like sometimes even, but caring for manners and always at least greeting people, even those she didn't like so much.
However, at first, he had thought that it had been because of him, that McGonagall had been so cold and angry, nearly like Snape, but then there had been transfiguration this very morning – and, no, he didn't think anymore that she was so angry because of him being a ghost or the son of one Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"You just take away your wands, ladies and gentlemen." She had said. "As you seem unable following simple rules of living together at a place like Hogwarts, but invade the privacy of fellow students, instead, happily listening to said private thoughts being read openly, not to mention some of you suffering from incontinence or the urge to bully other students with terms like squib-ghost what is ridiculous to begin with – you will have to being taught manners, before I can teach you anything else, I fear. We will begin with the house rules. You will write them down during the next ninety minutes and you will copy them ten times until your next transfiguration class. I also expect each of you to have learned them by heart until then, as I, of course, will question you – all of you – during your next transfiguration class. And you better do not fail then, because I am already deeply disappointed in you! Begin!"
And with a wave of her wand the house rules had appeared on the board, and they had started copying them. Of course, he had known that someone must have told something to McGonagall, maybe Neville, or the twins maybe, he didn't know.
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However, Snape and he, they hadn't spoken about that father and son thing anymore since that day in the infirmary when Snape had been so strange suddenly, had reacted as if he had accepted it and as if he was absolutely alright with it, had even behaved the way a father maybe would behave, had told him to take a bath, to dress in a pyjama and then go to bed and sleep, or at least rest.
It had been strange, really, but he had liked it, that suddenly there had been someone who had told him what to do, it had showed him that there was someone who cared.
Snape hadn't done so anymore after that, but he had bathed in the memory whenever he had been alone and whenever he wished for that kind of comfort again – what had been rather often, he had to admit, blushing, and hoping that no one would notice his blush. And then Snape had taken him from his dorm when he'd been in pain and scared of the others coming back after they had – well, had wet his bed. It had been so disgusting and humiliating and he hadn't been able to keep from crying – but Snape had come, and he had taken him from the tower, like any father would, as if he cared, and again he had stored that memory away in his mind to bathe in later.
Looking up he noticed that he had reached the potions laboratory and he took a deep breath before he entered, knowing what would await him inside. It was the first potions class since the start of term for him and he wasn't sure what to expect. Snape had become less sarcastic, and he hadn't hurt him at all since – well, since he had taken him from the great hall, but – that only had been because he was his father now and surely Snape would stay Snape?
Taking a deep breath, he entered the classroom and then looked for a place in the back of the room where he knew he would be undisturbed – from Gryffindors as well as from Slytherins. He wasn't sure what the problem was with Ron, and with Hermione, except of course that he was a ghost and that surely no one wanted to be friends with a ghost, but except of that – well, he better kept his distance for now, until he had a better view of the thing or something like that, he didn't know, really.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
The classroom had slowly filled up while Harry had been sitting there, musing, until – with a loud bell – the second class of a new week began. A moment later the door to the potions classroom opened and in stepped briskly one Severus Snape, his father, the Potions Master, the swirl of his black robes surely being patented and making him looking exceptionally tough and harsh today, dangerous somehow. Did this mean that he wasn't in the best mood? Well, if – then surely it would be anything else than a pleasant potions class, but he was used to that, wasn't he?
The teacher strode up to his desk and slammed his book down sharply with his trademark snarl firmly in place and Harry immediately flinched, unable to keep himself from thinking back to his first-year potions lessons.
"Cease your incoherent chattering this instant – and turn your books to page thirty-three." Snape spat, instantly quietening the class without having to raise his voice over the level of noise.
The straight and tall, proud figure of the Potions Master walked down the aisles of desks, making sure that every student did as demanded.
As he passed Harry, he couldn't help but notice the boy averting his eyes, a small pink tint rising to his otherwise so ghostly and pale cheeks and he arched an eyebrow, wondering why his son was acting so peculiar lately. He usually, nearly always, had kept eye contact during last year, not afraid to look straight into his eyes. Just like his mother. Just like Lily. And for a moment he stopped mid-step. Where he, until now, always had seen James Potter in the boy, in his behaviour and in his work – now he noticed all the things that were Lily.
Lily. Why had Lily listened to Dumbledore?
Closing his eyes, he gently placed a hand onto the startled boy's shoulder, giving a short inclining of his head and then walking on, forcing himself to quickly shrug off the thought, while making his way back to the front of the classroom.
"Now, as you can obviously tell, today you will all be brewing a truth serum." He then said, earning a few moans and groans which he instantly quieted with his trademark sneer and the drawl of his next words. "As it is, the most potent truth serum, veritaserum, is forbidden for students to brew as well as it is – regrettably – forbidden to be used on students. However, you will find that the truth serum you will be brewing today is just as effective as is veritaserum – as you all will be learning in your next lesson during which I will teach you a lesson in privacy being invaded. I suggest you all get to work, for it is a particularly tricky potion, and the process will be long. Any mistakes will be causing detention for the remainder of the month."
Everyone began working immediately, knowing well that if they didn't, he would surely keep them after class for lack of determination.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
He went back to his desk and sat down, beginning to grade a stack of parchments he had taken up from the first years that very morning.
He knew that he had half an hour until the first accident could happen and so he continued grading the first years' papers while he watched the students – and one student in particular, Harry Potter, Harry Snape actually, his son.
Potter definitely had adopted the boy, he was sure of that, or Harry would have never taken on the blasted man's appearance, his mop of unruly hair and some other things, like the softer and rounder face, and the need for those atrocious glasses.
Speaking of glasses – narrowing his eyes he looked at the boy again, noticing the child squinting his eyes, and suddenly, he also realized that he did not wear any glasses since he had come back to Hogwarts to begin with. As much as he had changed back his appearance to what the boy should look like, originally, it had not changed his eyesight, as well, back to normal … so – perhaps there was another reason as to why the boy had such a bad eyesight to begin with? He would have to look into this a bit more closely – as much as he would have to look into other things concerning this particular child.
Including how a son of him had managed landing himself in the house of Godric Gryffindor. Not that he was angry at the boy for it, he could live with a son of his being a Gryffindor, Lily had been a Gryffindor after all just as well and most likely Harry came a bit more after his mother than after his father.
And yet – as much as he always had loathed to admit it, but he always had wondered how the boy had been as talented in potions as he actually was.
Of course, Harry only had gotten bad marks in potions – seeing that it had been him, Snape, who had given the boy those bad marks. But in truth he knew – the boy's potions only had turned out being useless after Draco had thrown something into Harry's cauldron to destroy his work. And even then – Harry more than once had managed saving his potions by adding counter ingredients that would absorb any poisonous or destroying effect – something he never had taught his students below NEWTs.
Not to mention that the boy wielded the potions knife with a skill that actually was startling, and he seemed to screw up his practical work only if he, Snape, advanced on him threateningly. And if Harry had already last year known that he was his father – then it was just understandable. How must the boy have felt, being handled like that, by him, by his own father! And nevertheless, he had somehow managed to impress him with his practical work, even if he would have never admitted it in his wildest dreams. If only his written work would be as successful as his practical work, his essays always being copies from Granger's.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
By the end of the class, it had, of course, been Longbottom who had blown up his cauldron, but commenting on the boy's usual standard he had told him that no – he would not have detention as anything else than blowing up his cauldron surely would have been more a mistake on the Gryffindor's side. They all were used to his cauldrons being blown up, after all.
In truth he had not given Longbottom the announced detention because – he was the only Gryffindor second year at the present time that was not bullying Harry just because he was a ghost.
None of the others had made mistakes, not even Weasley as Granger had whispered instructions into his ear for the entire lesson. But he had watched them, and as it seemed – his comment about the next lesson and them learning what it meant, their privacy being invaded – yes, they all knew what his words had meant and what would await them in three days. Some of them had thrown angry looks at Harry, most of them Weasley, Thomas and Finnigan while others had ignored the back of the classroom or – like in the case of Longbottom, had thrown nearly apologetic glances at Harry – what had been another reason as to why he had not given him detention for blowing up his cauldron.
The Slytherins had looked more puzzled than anything else about his comment, even a bit scared and he knew the reason to that, them fearing that the Gryffindors would find out about any of their secrets concerning their home lives. Did those idiots really think he would betray them like this, and ask them questions that would give away their secrets? It was not their fault, after, all what had happened and seeing that he was Slytherin, there were thousands of questions he could ask of them, which would be harmless or even fun for them to answer.
However, their curiosity had even spiked when he had laid his hand at Harry's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Of course, they had noticed, where the Gryffindors had not, he huffed for a moment.
Harry himself, he had looked scared and frightened at not only the prospect of being questioned under a truth serum while not trusting him, Snape, but also at the prospect of having yet another potions lesson with his father making those classes a living hell – what again had been the reason as to why he had comforted the boy in his class, something he never did in such an open form, not even with his Slytherins and surely never with any Gryffindor.
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However, said Gryffindor was currently on his way down to the dungeons to serve his detention – not because he had made a mistake during potions class, no, but because he had not been ready to speak to him about the abuse. He had threatened the boy with detention if he wouldn't and he had now given him detention for the boy's refusal, until he would speak to him about what had happened. Not to mention that he still needed to know the boy, that was his son, a bit better.
As soon as he had addressed Dumbledore with the issue of taking Lily and Harry from him and of then blocking his memory, he would finally be able taking the boy into his quarters, seeing that he couldn't leave him in that bloody tower of his, after what had happened. He had put him into the chamber behind his office, down in the dungeons, but this was no long-time solution. The boy was twelve and he needed not only company but an adult who looked after him as well. He needed a family and a stale environment where he had his own room.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
When Harry stopped outside of Snape's office, he considered on knocking a couples of times, but he thought better of it each time he lifted his hand, too afraid of actually entering the office that had become the worst place at Hogwarts throughout the last school year, except for the potions classroom, of course, and except for the potions laboratory, afraid what his father might do to him now, when he was alone with him in the snake's pit.
"Cease standing outside this door, Mr. Potter, and do come in, instead – tonight, if possible." He heard the Potions Master's drawl and he flinched at the "Mr. Potter" his father used. So – Snape regretted having had acknowledged that he was his son.
Slowly, feeling numb, he placed his hand onto the doorknob and then opened the door, slipped into the potions classroom and then closed the door. He stood there for a moment, in front of Snape's desk, and he just wasn't able to look into the man's dark eyes.
Snape didn't make any sense. Caring for him, then dumping him off in the tower, then taking him from his dorm, then dumping him in a room in the dungeon, after that comforting him in potions and now regretting that he had admitted to him, and calling him 'Potter' instead.
"I … I'm here for … for my detention, professor." He managed to get out, looking into the Potions Master's direction and waiting for permission to start on scrubbing cauldrons. He knew why he had those detentions, and he knew what detention was like with Snape. It meant scrubbing cauldrons for hours after hours, until you couldn't move your arms anymore, and until your hands felt like cramping from all the hard work.
Snape simply waved him closer, and slowly the nervous boy ghost made his way up to the older wizard's desk.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
To be continued
Next time in "The boy that forgot to die"
detention with Snape
Added author's note
thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …
House Cup:
At the present time it looks like this:
29 Points - Slytherin
07 Points - Gryffindor
27 Points - Ravenclaw
06 Points - Hufflepuff