Title:
The boy that forgot to die
Author:
evil minded
Date:
November, 11th 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 just wanted to say that Dudley, my cousin, always was allowed to drink hot chocolate or sweet juice, and I had to drink plain water or tea that had become cold and bitter, at least after they had found out how much I hate it." The boy said after long moments of hesitancy. "It's been better than nothing though." He added, looking at his cup and then seemed to decide gulping it down in one go so that he, most likely, didn't have to think about it any longer, but – and to his own surprise – he put his hand on the thin arm and stopped the brat.
A moment later a cup of hot chocolate was standing on the table in front of his son who looked at the cup and then up at him with large eyes.
The boy that forgot to die
Chapter eleven
Ghost or not – you need to rest
Or bloody, blasted boy
It had been a rather calm day so far – history of magic and then herbology.
The strange thing had been that Snape had been there in front of the greenhouse after herbology, already waiting for him and he had frowned in confusion. Well, and then the Potions Master had told him to follow him, had led him down into the dungeons and back into his office – where he had him eating lunch.
Really strange.
It was one thing Snape waiting in his office until he, Harry, came out of the chamber behind to have him eating breakfast, but it was another thing to even wait in front of the greenhouse after herbology so that he could take him back into his office for lunch! That surely wasn't normal, was it? And how was it that Snape knew his timetable so well? It wasn't as if he was one of Snape's Slytherins after all, or something like that.
"No – but you are his son." A small voice in his mind said, and he couldn't help thinking that aunt Petunia had always waited for Dudley, picking him up after school and taking him home in the car while he had – of course – to walk home. "So of course, he knows your timetable, idiot!"
Well, they'd had lunch and then – he actually had blinked at the man in shock – Snape, his father, had told him to rest!
Flashback
"I suggest that you unpack your trunk, Harry." The Potions Master said. "You won't remain living here for long, as this chamber is only a temporary solution, but I do not know how long exactly it will take me to provide complete security against the headmaster. I will not risk anything when it comes to you – meaning that you will have to stay here for a few days."
"You … you won't be in trouble, will you?" The blasted boy asked and he nearly growled. Leave it to this bloody Gryffindor to worry about him, Snape, instead of about himself, seeing that he was a – ghost, for Merlin's sake!
"No, I won't be in trouble." He answered instead, knowing that the boy only meant well. "However, I would be more at ease if you already lived in my private quarters and so yes – I would like having you as comfortable as possible and not living out of your trunk."
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
"'K …" He said, the man's words still ringing in his ears.
"I would be more at ease if you already lived in my privet quarters."
Did this mean that his father still cared? That he really had not been dumping him here but that it really was just an emergency solution? That he really wanted to take him in? But it was Snape, and what would it mean to live with that particular man that hated him so much?
Well, or at least disliked him so much?
"I expect you to rest for an hour before that though." Snape said and he blinked at the man in shock.
"But why should I … 'm sorry, sir." He said, remembering Snape's – his father's – lecture about discussing over his orders during breakfast this very morning and he definitely was not ready to try the man yet – or better not ever. He knew that Snape could become very nasty at the best and he feared that he could be just as violent as had been his uncle at the worst. So – no, better not trying anything with the Potions Master.
But he was twelve!
Why should he take an afternoon nap? He wasn't a baby anymore! He wasn't even a firstie anymore but a second year!
"Because you are easily tired and exhausted." Snape seriously said, his voice sounding like a lecture but at the same time he knew that it wouldn't be a flaming like it had been for the past year. "You are a child and as the child you are, you do not seem to take this as seriously as an adult would – or at least should. You are still a ghost, your body is still knocking on death's door, and you yourself have been seriously injured – I guess we do not have to mention the injuries on your body itself. You might be healed – partly – but you are not healthy, yet, and surely, we do not have to speak of any mental damage, considering your very persistent nightmares. Ghost or not, Harry, you need rest, and this is not up for discussion."
End flashback
And right now, he was unpacking his trunk, after he had taken a nap like his father had suggested. Well, the most embarrassing thing here had clearly been, him actually falling asleep during his nap and he had blushed furiously when he had woken and found Snape sitting in the room he'd been given, with the man sitting in an armchair beside his bed, watching him in his sleep.
It definitely had been scary.
He rummaged in his trunk, taking out his books, the ones from last year and those from this current year, and placed them onto one of the shelves. He also put the stack of parchment Snape had brought together with his trunk onto the shelf, and the books he'd need for this year. He put the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of last year, the wizarding chess he had gotten from Christmas crackers last year and the box of rune stones he had gotten from someone unknown last year, too, at another shelf.
The letter his mother had written him so many years ago, he placed it beneath his pillow, like he had done all last year, his heart racing at the reminder of his mother's words, thinking for a moment, wondering if maybe – just maybe – they could come true? That maybe – just maybe – Snape might really acknowledge him as his son one day? He didn't know. He really didn't know and somehow, he feared what would come out of this. Was he really meant to find some peace and comfort one day?
Surely not!
And he better did not indulge in false hopes!
Taking ink and quill from his trunk he placed it at his desk, ignoring his wand that Snape had placed at his nightstand, and then he rummaged for his school clothes which he would be wearing, the shirts and trousers, and his cloaks. His cousin's cast offs, he left them in his trunk, at least the t-shirts and trousers. The socks and the underwear, well, he was forced to wear them, and they went into the farthest corner of the cupboard where he had placed his school clothes in, most of them disgusting pieces with holes and too large for him anyway. But he didn't have any other underwear and he didn't know a spell that could at least shrink them.
The invisibility cloak he kept in his trunk. He didn't need this one often enough to take it out anyway.
"I suggest we go through your clothes so that I know what exactly we have to replace." Came Snape's voice from the doorway and he nearly jumped a foot into the air before turning and looking up at the man.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
Knowing that the boy would not like his suggestion the Potions Master forced his face into an indifferent mask, but he had seen some of the boy's clothes when he had summoned everything at number four to place it in the boy's trunk before shrinking and pocketing it and they were – atrocious at the best, like the clothes the boy ghost had worn when he had come back to Hogwarts on September the first this year.
"This won't be necessary, sir, thank you." The boy said, looking down at himself and for a moment the nearly translucent boy got translucent at all, and he frowned, until the boy looked up at him again and the ghost was back to being … sort of half-ghostlike. "They're just a bit worn, it's no problem."
"They are not just – worn, you idiot child!" He growled, scowling at the boy. "You even have to wear a string to keep your underwear, not to mention your trousers, from falling down, seeing that this whale of a cousin you have is ten times too big while you are ten times too small and skinny for your age. And yes – I do know what your clothes look like seeing that I have seen them in the infirmary – and at your relatives' house when I summoned your belongings."
"No!" The boy nearly shouted with horror clearly visible on his face. "You haven't! And there isn't anything to look at anyway! And it's just … it's embarrassing and you wouldn't want to look at them anyway!"
"Would you do me the favour and calm down please, Mr. Snape?" He said, scowling while sensing another panic attack. Well, they had not had one today so far and so – of course it would come sooner or later, or rather sooner than later, as it seemed. "I simply suggest that we will exchange anything that is still in this trunk at the present time."
"What …?" The boy asked, shocked. "But … but I don't even know if I will have access to Harry Potter's vault at Gringotts anymore!" The boy said, gasped and his, Snape's, frown deepened.
"First, seeing that you are Harry Potter in one way or another, you will, of course, have access to your vault still." He huffed. "And second, there won't be need to take anything from your vault for this. I do get a salary for teaching and being not only the head of a house but the resident Potions Master here at Hogwarts after all. I will be capable of providing you with what you need."
"But … you don't have to!" The boy still gasped at him. "I mean, you shouldn't have to and you surely … you see, I can get them myself, I'll find a way to get …"
"I take it that you have had to provide for yourself in the past." He growled. "But that will not continue, neither here nor with me. I am your father, and I am not only bound to provide you with what you need, but I also do intend on providing my own son with what he needs – and seeing that it is you who is my son – I am sure this vacant mind of yours will be able figuring out the meaning of my implications."
"But … but that's too much!" The boy still fought over the subject and suddenly he could see himself in the brat, being unwilling of taking something from someone else. "And it's too much money too! You can't … I'm not worth of …"
"Mr. Snape, I will decide how I spend of my money, and I will decide what things you are worthy of. Do not question my judgment on such matters." He growled. Really, the nerve of the boy!
"Yes sir, 'm sorry, sir, but it's just that I don't think I should take it unless I earn it." Harry quietly said after he had calmed down. He didn't however say what was clearly written over the pale face – namely that he never would be worthy of such, never mind what he did to earn it.
"Mr. Potter you are not a house elf, and you need not prove your self-worth to me. Not to mention that you already have helped with preparing and restocking supplies for the potions laboratory. And I will say it one last time – you are my son and even if you might not be used to such standards, but as your father it is my duty to provide you with anything you might need and that starts at food and goes over a room, a bed, clothes, your school supplies and even such things as books and games for enjoyment as well as an allowance in one form or another. Now, do I make myself clear?" Snape said hoping to be done with this subject and get on their way.
"Yes sir, but I really …"
Snape suddenly cut him off as he said harshly, "Mr. Potter one more word on this subject and you will be doing detention for the next month! Added to those you already do serve with me on a daily basis for refusing to speak to me about what has been happening at your relatives' house." Snape was losing his patience with the blasted boy – while at the same time he pulled the small and trembling figure close.
Harry quickly nodded.
"Yes sir, sorry, sir." The brat said with a small voice while leaning into his touch, leaning his head against his chest and he took a deep breath to calm not only his annoyance but his nerves as well.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
He did not intend on keeping the bloody boy from the great hall for all his meals and so he had made it clear to Harry that he expected him to eat at least a bit during dinner at the hall together with the other students, had made it clear that he would watch the boy during dinner. The boy needed to be in contact with his classmates or he would become unsocial and a misanthrope, and surely one misanthrope here at Hogwarts at the present time was enough, there was no need for another one.
Of course, he watched the boy from the head table, watched him sitting at the Gryffindor table and he watched his friends' reactions as well, Longbottom seemingly the only one who really acted carefree around Harry while Granger looked at him in a nearly scared way and Weasley even scooted away again from the boy, like he'd done just before the welcoming feast and during every dinner so far Harry had spent in the great hall. And still – he knew that it was important that the boy was not kept from other human contact completely.
If just he would find a way to get the boy to going back into his own body.
His son's actual body got weaker and weaker by the day, and he didn't know how to keep it alive for much longer. Of course, Poppy had put him into a deep sleep, deeper than the boy simply being unconscious and she provided him with nutrient potions, but that didn't keep him from getting weaker and weaker as there was no real food for his already dangerously thin body and as there was no real rest for his already dangerously weak body either. He, too, provided the boy with potions to the best of his abilities to keep him alive, but it wasn't enough.
On the other hand, he could understand his son's ghost form as well.
There was only pain and fear and misery if he went back to his body, he knew that – as well as did Harry. But what if the boy's body died? What if the boy's body stopped breathing for good? If his heart stopped beating for good? What if his ever-persistent knock on death's door was finally answered? What would become of his ghost then? What would become of the boy that currently was living in the chamber behind his office? What would become of the boy he had learned to – shocked for a moment he realized that – he actually liked that blasted brat! Merlin! How could he ever … how could he ever get Harry the ghost back into Harry the body – or find any other solution to keep his son alive?
Bloody boy!
Blasted bloody boy!
Why couldn't he just –
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
Finishing his plate, he quickly stood and then swiftly turned and made his way out of the great hall, his black robes billowing behind him. He always had preferred to get out of that crowded place as soon as possible since he already had to be around the students for almost 24 hours a day to begin with. It was enough, being present for the much too long time during meals, to make sure that the students behaved.
'And now I have to live with one of them!' He thought to himself, instantly becoming aware of another presence that was following him close behind and without missing a step he stopped in his tracks, turned to face whoever was stupid enough stalking him, his scowl deepening when he saw that it was the boy, which he had been thinking of just moments ago.
"Is there a reason for you following me like a lost puppy?" He asked with his deep rich voice, angry over the fact that he himself was worrying so much, angry over the fact that he had started liking that blasted brat, wondering again how he could have felt the boy's presence since he was a – ghost.
"Uhm … well … it's just that …"
"Let me guess, you do not want others knowing about your relationship with me – not to mention your current living arrangement, am I correct?"
"What? No, sir." The boy whispered, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry, sir … it's just that … I didn't want to be alone in the great hall and …"
"And yet I thought you for once had used your brain." The Potions Master sighed. "It actually would be best to keep our current situation under secrecy, at least for the time being." Again, he turned and continued walking down the corridor that led to the staircase down to the dungeons.
"Are you coming or not?" He asked without turning back, leading the boy down the wide staircase and then along the dungeons corridor that led to his office. He knew that he was being unfair, but for once – he couldn't help himself. He simply was angry at the boy ghost for refusing to go back into his body, leaving his body to die sooner than later, he feared. And he was angry at himself for being affected by that, for having started to like that brat!
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
Harry on the other hand warily trailed behind his father, walked down the stairs, along the corridors, through the office and then to the room he'd been given, keeping his eyes out for Snape. The mood his father was in reminded him of uncle Vernon before he began beating him for no good reason at all and he shuddered at the thought of last time, that had caused three broken ribs, a broken arm, a broken wrist and a broken ankle, a black eye and a split lip. Not to mention his back that Snape said was still not right somehow. Of course, he had still been forced to do his chores in the beginning and of course he hadn't been able to do them – and of course that had meant another beating from his uncle, with the cane mostly, with uncle Vernon's belt sometimes, and even with his feet sometimes.
It had been the one beating before the night when he had left his body to sit beside it and stare at it in pure shock, not knowing what had happened, and why, and what would happen now. Closing his eyes, he forced those thoughts away and as soon as he was back in his room, he closed the door and let out a breath of relief. Shaking in relief even, he sat down into the armchair, and put away his now dry charms homework to begin his essay for transfiguration. He didn't stop until he finished the required length, adding just a little bit more than necessary.
His body still was shaking after that, but his eyes were barely able to remain open when he finally placed the quill aside. His heart however was still beating too fast to sleep, even an hour and a half after the Potions Master's moody appearance, and even if he had wished doing just that, but then he sighed. He knew that Snape was right – he was weak still, and he was exhausted, he would have to, at least try sleeping if he wanted to handle classes tomorrow.
Nightly rituals done he slipped into the bed after turning the light off, hoping that eventually the fear would wear off.
His professor's and father's snarl for no good reason had wound him up like a bomb waiting to go off, and even right now he was waiting for Snape to come into the room and to take his frustrations out on him, it was all he ever had known so far and so he didn't expect any less.
Wide green eyes were staring transfixed at the door, while the clock was ticking away time constantly, a loud irritating noise, as the hours went by, and before long it was nearly midnight – but Harry was still tense like a bow.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
To be continued
Next time in "The boy that forgot to die"
Do you feel better?
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:
30 Points - Slytherin
07 Points - Gryffindor
27 Points - Ravenclaw
06 Points - Hufflepuff