Title:
The boy that forgot to die

Author:
evil minded

Date:
November, 20th 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 won't allow the toilet seat." He growled at them. "But I'll allow the sweets. Come here then, seeing that you are already here anyway." He then added while at the same time drawing his wand and banishing the toilet seat where it belonged to, ignoring the startled and disappointed look from Frederic.
"So – his body is really here." George Weasley said after he had stepped closer and could see the child's body laying in the bed beside his ghost form.
"I told you so." Frederic shrugged his shoulders. "Anything else wouldn't make sense."
"What will happen now?" They both asked at the same time, both Weasleys looking up at him, not mischief in their eyes like there normally would be, but concern and perhaps it was this concern that showed the Potions Master – those two meant it, they still were Harry's friends, never mind what.

The boy that forgot to die
Chapter twenty
I take it this is your essay, Harry?
Or you are wrong here, child

Frederic and George Weasley had been sitting with Harry for half an hour before he had shoed them out of the hospital wing and back to their tower, accompanying them through the corridors in the middle of the night. Surely not so that they wouldn't get into trouble if anyone caught them roaming the castle after curfew and in the middle of the night actually, and surely not to show them his gratitude for still caring about Harry either but to make sure that they would really go back to their blasted tower only!

He was Severus Snape, the evil dungeons bat and surely, he wouldn't accompany anyone to make sure that they wouldn't be in trouble if caught!

'But you DO know that those two had taken that risk just to visit your son, you idiot!' A small voice in the back of his mind whispered and as badly as he wished this voice to be wrong or at least to be not right – he knew that it was absolutely correct. Those two had sneaked into the infirmary in the middle of the night just to visit his son – and to bring him sweets … and a toilet seat – and he was happy to know that the child had still friends within the house of the lions, and so he would not condemn them to detention.

Oh – he had given them detention, he was a teacher at this school after all and he was bound to punish them, and so he of course had given them detention, but well, he simply would brew one potion or another with them, something that they would have fun with, he knew that.

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Sighing Harry snuggled deeper into the warmth his blankets provided, wondering why his father always came in during the night to cover him with a second blanket. But well – he was glad for it, because during the night the fire went off, and in the morning, it was cold in his chamber. Severus had his house elf coming in after he woke to start the fire anew, but getting out of bed and leaving his warm nest, it was a battle each morning and Severus had even had to come in once, asking him if he wasn't up yet. He'd gotten ready real quickly back then, hoping that he wouldn't be in too much trouble.

He hadn't been, back then, but he always had been in so much trouble if he hadn't gotten up quickly back with the Dursleys and the shiver that had run down his spine had not been from the cold of this morning after his father had left his room, but from fear.

"Oh well …" He muttered, throwing the covers back and shivering in the cold. He was now living in a dungeon after all and so of course it would be cold here. And he was living with Snape now and so of course he would have to get used to Snape's ways. And he knew that Snape would not beat him.

At least he hoped so.

Going to his dresser, he pulled out a pair of dark blue Jeans and a long-sleeved black hoodie with a small green and red dragon on the chest and the same dragon in large on the back. The dragon was moving threateningly, dangerously growling at any people who just looked at it, as if they tried to steal its treasure and it was threatening to breathing fire at them – until at the end of the section it coughed up a tiny little flame with a lot of smoke, before it shyly turned and secretly revealed its treasure, a dark brown teddy bear with bright brown paws and black beetle eyes.

He'd seen the hoodie a few days ago and he had laughed at the image when it had finished displaying itself before beginning anew, but he had not dared to ask his father for it, and he hadn't had a chance to go to Gringotts to get some money – not to mention that he hadn't had a clue how to get to Diagon Alley alone. But on Saturday last week the hoodie had been laying there on the foot of his bed. And since then, it definitely was his new favourite cloth ever!

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Severus Snape was sitting in his favourite armchair in his quarters, near the fire and waiting for Harry to emerge from his room, waiting for the Harry that was the ghost, because Harry that was the body still would not be able to do anything than laying in bed.

It had been a bit of a struggle after those two days he'd had the boy down in the infirmary so that he could keep an eye on both of his sons – despite that healer Weed had said it wouldn't be necessary, he had stayed with the two boys anyway, and he had done it by free will, he had to admit that.

However, after those two days he first had asked the castle to expand his quarters and then he had added another room to them, next to Harry's room actually and the boy ghost had hovered around him excitedly, nervously and frightened to some extent. Of course the boy had known why he would expand his quarters and add a room to them, he had told him the reason after all, and the child had been excited and scared at the same time, barely able to sit still – or to stand still – for at least half a minute and at one point he even had found the ghost form sitting up there at one of his bookshelves because he had floated up there in his excitement, looking down at him startled and not daring to move up there or to come down by himself. In the end he'd had to lean a ladder at the shelf to climb up there and to get the boy down, the small arms clinging to him in a death like grip – again – as he still was not daring to cast spells upon the child to get him down, so close after the avada that had been cast at the boy.

After that, he had taken Harry's body to the room he had added to his quarters, the boy ghost hovering close behind him and watching while he carried the boy's body from the infirmary to his new room.

Never mind what, he would have his son close. Never mind if he would die before they could do anything, and never mind how long Harry would stay in this condition, never mind if he would survive – he would have him close, and he would have both boys together.

Of course, he did this just because for him it was easier to have a close eye on both boys that way. He was first sitting with his son's ghost until the boy had found sleep and after that he was sitting with his son's body, not knowing if, but hoping that he gave a bit of comfort to what- or wherever the child was. And even Harry – during the first day he had found the boy standing in the doorway to his body's room more than once, peering inside in a mixture of curiosity and fear, sometimes even tripping from one foot to the other nervously or casting nervous glances at him, Snape, as if asking for help in what to do.

Later he had seen him actually entering the room for a short moment and approaching his body, and he couldn't help hoping that – perhaps Harry would go back into his body now? He seemed curious and he seemed to look for closeness, to be near his body after all. Perhaps he should have taken the boy's body to his quarters sooner already? Had he made a mistake here in not doing so?

Never mind what, he let the boy doing so, let him alone and let him making his own experiences with his own body that now didn't look bloody anymore like when the child last had seen his body, laying in that cupboard, while he was hoping for the best and simply watching the situation.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Harry emerging from his own room got him out of his thoughts and looking over at the boy he lifted his eyebrow before shaking his head, the boy wearing one of the Jeans he had bought him during their outing to Diagon Alley and the hoodie he had ordered from Gladrag later. He'd noticed the boy looking at the hoodie while they'd been to Gladrag's, but he hadn't thought much of it during their shopping – even though he should have, seeing that Harry had been smiling at the image, his first and only smile he'd shown during the outing that had been a near disaster. But back then, his only goal had been to get Harry through the event, out of the shops and back to Hogwarts before the boy had a mental breakdown.

But he had remembered the longing looks later, after he had graded one of the boy's latest potions essays.

Flashback

"Harry." He called when the boy crossed his desk to leave the classroom and the ghost stopped, turned back to the Potions Master and waited until the rest of the students had left while the teacher continued grading papers. The moment the classroom was empty he looked up at the boy and then frowned at the nervousness the small ghost form displayed. But then he shoved this information away for later inspection and addressed the boy, because he needed answers.

And he needed them desperately.

"I take it, this is your essay, Harry?" He then asked, taking one of the parchments from his desk and reaching over the essay he had handed back to the students today, to all of them actually, except for Harry, Weasley and Granger at least. He had kept them back and he had ignored all of their curious and unsure looks.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered, clearly confused and clearly scared as well, most likely remembering other situations during which he'd been standing in front of his desk.

"Wherefrom exactly did you gain the information needed for this essay?" He then asked, for now ignoring the boy being scared. He needed answers to a question that had crossed his mind already after he had graded the second years' last essays.

"In books I've borrowed from the library, sir." Harry answered after a moment of hesitancy, but he didn't sound hesitant when he gave the answer, his voice clearly telling that he didn't understand the question – and that he was even a bit disappointed in being questioned by his father about the essay he had written, and where he had taken the information, which he would need for this essay from as he – and rightfully so – noticed that he was questioned about having cheated.

"Would you be as kind as to pointing out which books from, you gathered the information containing this essay, please?" He then asked, still ignoring the boy's hurt and scared appearance.

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Confused, but clearly hurt Harry took out a pencil and started underlining parts of the essay and writing down which books he had consulted for his work, while his father continued grading the essays he'd been working on before, knowing what the man thought. Snape thought he had cheated, and he nearly cried with disappointment.

There he was, finally having a family, finally having someone who cared, finally having that, what he always had wanted and then – puff, it was gone like everything always was gone, because Snape didn't trust him. Because Snape clearly had learned meanwhile, how bad he was, not trustworthy, and that uncle Vernon surely had been right all the time – he had to be punished.

And nevertheless – it hurt, because he had not cheated.

After having written down the last book he had borrowed from the library for his essay, he put away the quill and then –

"Thank you, that was all for now, Harry." Snape then said. "You may go."

"You think I have cheated."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"You think I have cheated." The boy said before he turned, looking at him with hurt eyes that were filled with unshed tears and spoke of disappointment, of frustration and of – acceptance.

It was this acceptance that caused the Potions Master to take a deep breath.

"Sit down, Harry." He said, placing his current work aside to take his son's essay.

"'S ok." The boy said, his voice nearly choking, and he shrugged as if waving it off.

"No, it is not – 'ok' and perhaps I should have chosen other words." He said, trying to keep his patience. "I fear that I have to get used to this new situation as much as you, and I apologize for having hurt you. And now do sit down, please. I guess, I do not have to read over the books you have pointed out as their titles are known to me already. I have just held back your essay – together with Mr. Weasleys and Miss Granger's, because I have noticed a few strange things about your essays lately and I would like to clarify them. Do not take me wrong Harry, I just want to make absolutely sure."

"'K, sir." The boy murmured, still looking defeated and miserable.

"So, you are sure that this particular essay has been written by you?" He asked, his dark eyes on the boy but trying to look – and sound – reassuring. It wasn't the boy's fault after all, he was sure of that by now and he cursed himself for having brought it up to begin with. Well, he would go through it for now and then he would make it up to the boy.

"Yes, sir." Harry quietly answered, still not looking at him but at the floor.

"If this essay has been written by you, Harry, then it means that these essays here have been written by you as well." He said, taking a stack of potions essays that all held Harry's name, that all were the potions essays from last year, and he placed them at the desk in front of the boy, of his son, watching him closely. There was no answer, but he didn't need an answer. It was clear now, that all these essays had been written by Harry.

"If these essays, however, have been written by you, then it means that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have copied them, as their exact wording in each essay is the same, sentence for sentence." He finally said, leaning back in his chair and locking his dark eyes with the green ones of his son. "And Mr. Weasley's essay hasn't even been copied by hand, but by magic."

"You thought I had cheated." Harry once more accused him, again – or still – his green eyes hurt.

"Actually – yes, Harry." He sighed. "I have thought so last year, until you have handed in your first essay since your separation with Weasley and Granger this year. And even if by then, I have already guessed that it has not been Granger's essays but yours, after I have read the last essays, I had to check my theory nevertheless, by having you pointing out the books you have taken your information from, and I am actually sure by now, that this particular essay here has indeed been written by you, as not only have you been the only one of you three able to point out the correct books but also did underline which parts of the essays you have taken from said books, sometimes even naming the chapter. And like I have said, if this particular essay has been written by you, then that means that all of your essays from first year have been written by you as well and then have been copied by Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley."

Again, there was no answer, but again Snape didn't need an answer.

"And therefore, I not only apologize for this particular situation here, in which I have questioned you, but I also do apologize for grading your essays unfairly in the past, as you deserved better for an outstanding work, while I have been under the misconception that Miss Granger had done all the work while Mr. Weasley and you had copied her essays only. Why have you never complained about getting a T in your written potions work while Miss Granger who – I am sure you knew – handed in the exact copy had gained at least an A if not an O for the exact same work?"

"Wouldn' have made a difference, sir." The boy ghost said, again shrugging his shoulders.

"What do you mean, it wouldn't have made a difference?" Severus asked frowning at the boy. "Of course, it would have made a difference, and a big one, no less! There is an entire spectrum of marks between a T and an O after all and instead of being one of the worst students in my class you could easily have been one of the best students in my class as the marks for your written essays take fifty percent of your end mark and nearly all of them had been an outstanding. You easily could have gained an Outstanding in your end mark last year instead of the Poor you actually got."

"They're marks, what are they good for?" The boy asked, his voice quiet and he knew – there had never been someone who would have incited the boy to do better, as there had never been someone who had cared. On the contrary – the boy had been punished if he had done better than his cousin.

"I do know, Harry, that neither your aunt nor your uncle would have cared, but perhaps it would have made your teachers proud of you?" He then asked, his voice as quiet as the boy's voice had been, and suddenly he knew that – despite the dislike he had felt towards Harry last year, he would have been able to feel proud at the idiot child if he had managed an outstanding, nevertheless.

"For being proud at someone, one has to care, sir." Harry simply replied with a frightening straight logic. "And so – no, it wouldn't have made a difference."

"You are wrong here, child." Snape quietly said. "Because, actually, I would have cared."

End flashback

Well, the boy still had been hurt somehow, but he had understood, and in the end, he had ordered lunch into his classroom where they had been sitting together, eating and talking. At least, in the end, Harry had understood why he'd had to ask him, and afterwards he had changed Harry's mark from last year from a P to an O while he had summoned Miss Granger's file to change her potions OWL from an O to the P she had deserved, but Harry had stopped him.

"Please not." The boy had said, and he had frowned at the small ghost that was sitting opposite him.

"Why not?" He had asked, curiously. "It would be just the deserved mark, and seeing that I do not understand why an intelligent girl like Miss Granger would have to cheat – do you have an explanation to that, Harry?"

"Guess so." The boy had said, shyly and he had narrowed his eyes at the child.

"And that would be – why?" He had asked when there had been no answer.

"Well … you see, Hermione's parents are both dentists." The child had started to explain. "They have a medical job and in the wizarding world you need potions for becoming a real healer. Not so for simply becoming a medic witch or something like that, but for becoming a healer, you need potions, but potions is a subject where you can't rely on books only, but need intuition also, and Hermione always relies on books only, she doesn't know how to listen to her intuition and so she was so scared that she would fail because then her parents would be so disappointed in her. She's just been scared."

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"He's been crying last night." Harry said, carefully sitting down in one corner of the sofa and pulling up his knees, running the tip of his forefinger over the small dragon on his chest, getting him, Snape, out of his thoughts and he smiled at the boy being so fond of that particular hoodie.

He had told Harry that he would change Miss Granger's mark to an A instead of the P she would have deserved, and the boy had accepted it, even if he had not looked happy.

"The wizarding OWL and NEWT system is subdivided in two classes." He'd said, trying to explain his reasoning to the boy so that he understood. "There is no middle field, they are either good or bad marks and I am sure that you do know that the first three marks, namely 'outstanding', 'exceeds expectations' and 'acceptable' actually are good marks while 'poor', 'dreadful' and 'troll' are the bad marks. And while Miss Granger would deserve a 'poor' at the best for cheating, and nothing else it was if she has copied her work from you, the 'acceptable' I will give her is still one of the good marks that will allow her to not only get better but to having a chance of getting an apprenticeship or job in later years that requires the subject potions."

The boy had accepted his words, and in the evening, they had been alright again.

"I know." He answered, concentrating onto the presence and summoning a cup of hot chocolate from the kitchen, as had become a standard meanwhile, him, ordering a cup of hot chocolate for Harry first thing in the morning, and summoning it the moment the boy left his room. "He has been laying uncomfortably for too long a time and I haven't noticed. Of course, he had started crying at one point or another."

Later in the week he had sent an owl to Gladrag, and he had ordered that particular hoodie Harry had watched with bright green eyes when they had been there, smiling, and seeing that Gladrag still had the boy's measures – it hadn't been any troubles. Saturday after that the hoodie had arrived early in the morning and he had placed it onto the boy's bed while he'd been in the shower – and well, since then the child only had taken it off for bed and for the piece of cloth being washed.

"How can he be in pain while I'm not there?" Harry asked, not understanding.

"I cannot answer that question, Harry." He answered. "You are not supposed to being able touching things and yet you can – while your body is not required feeling pain and yet, it is. I guess that it has to do with you simply having left your body before it has died actually, something that rarely ever has been done, and so both, you and your body, are acting not like you should."

"Will it get better when we do this potions-and-spell-thing?" The boy asked, his voice scared.

"If the spell and the potion work like they should, then yes." He answered. "Then your body will have a chance to survive and to heal while you will continue on in your current form. There will be two of you, one physical Harry and one ghostly Harry, but both of you will life as separated and independent boys. But you also do know the risks, Harry."

"Know." The boy agreed, curling in on the sofa and pressing his hands at the warm porcelain from the cup. "But – I've never had a family and now I have one, and I don' wanna lose it and … and … I just never had something to really live for, and now I have and … and now I don' wanna die and … dunno …"

Unable to watch the ghost child's misery any longer he went over to the sofa and pulled the small form into his arms, carding his fingers through the black hair.

"Stop this infuriating rambling of yours, you foolish child, I do know what you mean, and I do understand your wish." He softly said. "But what if you wouldn't survive it? I do not care about two of you or one of you being here, and neither do I care if it is you as a ghost form or you as a physical form, but I wouldn't be able going on if I lost you a second time."

"But he won't survive if I don't … and I don' wanna … and if he dies then I could as well or vanish or anything … healer Weed said so." The boy stammered, murmured, close to tears again, and he tightened his grip he had on the child, on his son.

"I know." He softly answered. "And therefore, I do not dismiss the thought completely, but I refuse following that path before I absolutely have to take this risk."

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"How is your homework coming along?" Severus asked later that day when Harry came into the living room in their quarters.

"It's done." Harry answered, clearly uncomfortable and the words 'oh, please, don't let him want to see it' were written over the boy's face in large red letters.

"Get it, please, I would like to have a look at it." He said, knowing that he just had destroyed all of Harry's hopes and sullenly, the boy ghost went over to his room and gave Severus his essay a moment later after emerging with a pale face, causing the Potions Master to frown. Without saying anything, he drew the chair away from the table, indicating that Harry should sit down, and the boy did, letting his head hanging and clearly waiting for the scolding. Well – yes, he always had been scolding the boy for his work, why should he assume that it would be different now?

His frown deepening, he looked down onto the barely legible handwriting that was his son's, not for the first time considering a few hours of writing exercises with ink and quill, and he started to read.

'The potions book said, that in the year 1971 the ministry of magic wanted to declare any de-ageing potion as a forbidden substance because of its dangers, but that they refrained from actually bringing up this particular law, as many witches and wizards had reacted with protests at the declaration, some pure blood wizarding families even threatening the ministry of magic with withdrawing any support in future if the decree was brought up.

I personally do not understand how they could have been against this law so vehemently.

The benefit of a de-ageing potion clearly might be that one could make him- or herself younger than they actually were and therefore might increase their lives or make themselves younger to undo an illness that otherwise might be life-threatening, while at the same time they maybe could de-age themselves to a point where they could make one or another aftermath of an accident or similar undone if they reverted to an age before that.

Clearly a benefit that is worth thinking about if it could save a life and while the de-ageing potion does not pertain any poisoning or dangerous substance to begin with, it definitely might seem that those benefits are all right and the potion should be classified as not dangerous and therefore allowed.

On the other hand, however, the de-ageing potion easily can be misused to increasing one's live to a lifespan that is simply unethical or to mask as a person which they are not, to play pranks, to do crimes while taking the antidote afterwards so it can't be proved, and I am sure that there are many other possibilities to misuse this potion which I have not thought of yet.

The worst part of this potion however, I think is its use to revert back to an age before something might have happened that had an effect on a person like having had a bad childhood.

Imagine a teen having had a bad childhood and taking the potion to revert back to an age before that had happened. If he weren't out of the situation by then, it would just repeat itself, but while being younger, maybe too young to defend himself, the situation only would become worse and maybe even life threatening because the adults around him would just be unnerved by having the teen back to a child which they had to endure in their household for longer now.

Even if the teen was out of the situation by then and the de-ageing potion given by a caring adult – it wouldn't be a perfect and absolute constant solution either, because the person that now cares could easily stop caring too and leaving behind a child that is de-aged and defenceless, maybe even unable to care for himself while he would have been able to at least care for himself without the de-ageing potion having been used if the now caring person had abandoned him as a teen instead of as a child.

Even if the administering of that particular kind of potion had been allowed by the ministry only in some exceptional cases if the need for it could be explained to the ministry plausibly – it wouldn't make it any better, because the ministry cannot know about the new guardian always caring, as not even they can predict the future.

One might now say that the ministry of magic could demand a wizard's oath of them to always care for their children then, but one: an emotion cannot be suppressed and if you hate someone, you simply hate him and can't help yourself in showing your hate. And second: even if the person always will care – he could die and leave the child behind.

And who would by free will go through a bad childhood a second time while he could have been an adult already by that time?'

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He didn't have to ask the boy why he had written those words, why his line of thoughts went into this particular direction or how he felt about not only this essay, the potion, but about himself and the situation they were in.

"You do not trust in me enough to believe that I would not – either revert back to disliking you, or to abandoning you one day." He simply stated, not even making an attempt of forming it into a question.

He didn't get an answer – and he hadn't expected one either.

"Is that the reason as to why you do not wish going back into your body?" He then asked, plainly. "Because you think that – I have started caring when you have become a ghost, and if you are not a ghost anymore then I would stop caring about you?"

Again, he didn't get an answer, the boy ghost only shrugging his shoulders and averting his eyes – and he knew, he was correct. It was so easy, why hadn't he thought about it earlier? He had even known that the boy would only then go back into his body if he felt safe enough for doing so and he had even known that he would have to help the boy in feeling safe. He had told exactly those words to Minerva already. How had he not believed his own words? How had he not seen them?

He had started caring about the boy when he had become a ghost – of course the child would now try to remain as a ghost because he feared – as he had started caring when he had become a ghost, he would stop caring when he stopped being a ghost! He had been so very stupid!

"Life only can be understood if you look back, while it can only be lived while you look ahead." He said, placing the boy's essay at the table and pulling the boy close instead. "You have had enough opportunities to look back and learn to understand life, I fear that you do understand life better than any child your age should, even better than old and wise Dumbledore. But perhaps now is the time you start looking ahead and living your life, even if it means taking risks, especially the risk of trusting someone. You are correct, and of course I could revert back to disliking you, yes, but tell me a logical reason as to why exactly I should do that, as I have seen behind your mask now and have seen the real child you are."

"Don't know." The boy answered, his voice hesitant and soft while his green eyes looked up at him pleadingly, as if to say – please make me being wrong. "But it could be."

"Of course, it could be." Snape answered, leaning back in his armchair and pulling the boy ghost, his son, with him. "But it could just as well be, that the world ends tomorrow, that I will wear a red cloak the day after tomorrow, or that you will have blond hair next week. It could also be that I die one day, but it could also be that I will live even longer than you. It could be that it snows tomorrow, and it could be that tomorrow there will be sunshine. No one can know, Harry, and living means to take risks, every single day again. I know –" He said, lifting his hand when the child opened his mouth with a look on his face as if he felt ill. "– that you have taken risks in the past, and I also know that most of the times, they have ended badly, but you have learned to understand life enough, and there is no need for you to look back. In your future however, I will be at your side, and I will help you in your decisions of which risks to take. And I will be here to make sure that your risks are worth to be taken. If only you allow me."

"Can't." The boy choked out. "I just can't. 'M sorry … I …"

"Hush, child." He said, pulling the boy's head close and securing it against his shoulder with his free hand. "We still have a few days, I guess. And even if you still cannot take this risk and trust me by then – we will deal with it when it comes to that." He said, knowing that never mind what, his son was already too damaged to ever trust anyone in his life ever again – not even him, perhaps especially not even him. "But never mind what you yourself believe, child – you do deserve life more than any other child here at Hogwarts, you deserve so much more than you had, you deserve the world!"

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in "The boy that forgot to die"
In the morning, sir?

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, please also note that I have done a 'go over' concerning the house points as I have lost track over the years. I have them now saved in a chart where I can keep them easily updated – I have also 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, you are making my work worthwhile, and I do appreciate that very much …

House Cup:
At the present time it looks like this:

Slytherin 45
Gryffindor 14
Ravenclaw 25
Hufflepuff 07
Hogwarts 14