Title:
The boy that forgot to die

Author:
evil minded

Date:
November, 25th 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"
And so he didn't give an answer just tried to not listen as good as possible while his shoulders threatened to burst with the strain he felt in them. He tried to loosen them, tried to think of his room at home, with the fire and the soft carpet where he could lie on, in front of the fire, especially now when it got colder outside, he tried to ignore the pain in his tense shoulders and back that became worse and worse and he tried to keep his breathing as even as possible, his fingers from shaking – but only when a hand was placed on his neck did he relax a bit. It was as if this particular hand was his anchor to reality, and looking up Harry could see his now officially new father standing there suddenly – and the always so calm face of his father calmed him down completely while the dark black eyes that could look so cold and harsh went soft for a short moment before they were back into a blazing cold fire when the older wizard looked up at the lady.

The boy that forgot to die
Chapter twenty-five
I wanted to make you and the boy happy
Or Highway to hell

"I really would appreciate it, if you cease bullying my son." Severus drawled after he had made sure that Harry was alright and calm again. Never before had he felt the boy's emotions as deeply as he had now, and the worry had been too overwhelming. He simply had ignored anything that would be considered as appropriate and had entered the office his son had vanished in, after he had felt the boy being so very upset so that even he, Snape, could feel it.

He knew that they had formed a familial bond by now, a bond only a father and his child could form, or a mother with her child, but he also knew that such a bond would not allow him to feel what his son felt – and therefore it must have been extremely what Harry had felt – what had been the reason as to why he simply had entered without having been given permission.

"Can we finish this process now so that I can take the child home for a much needed rest, or do you plan on consulting the Wizengamot first?" He asked, coldly, his hand still on his son's neck to keep him calm. He knew what Hanson had said, he had heard the last sentence after all, and the fact that Harry was so very upset about it, having had signed the paper despite those words, it meant a lot to him, it meant the world to him.

"Very well." The idiot woman said, looking at him coldly. "Mr. Snape already has signed the papers, so it's your turn now."

Sneering at the woman he took the quill, released his son's neck and then took the papers to sign them – and his eyes fell onto the signature his son had done just moments ago.

Snape.

Harry Snape.

He stared at those words unbelievingly, unable to keep the soft "Merlin" from escaping his lips and for a moment he had to close his eyes. When he reopened them, he quickly signed the papers himself, noticing that his hand was shaking, something that normally never happened, and then he turned back towards Harry, towards his son, the boy looking at him worriedly and scared again.

"Come here, son." He quietly said and the boy did, slowly coming close, his unsure green eyes never leaving his form. He clearly could see the boy's emotions over his face, over his stance, in his eyes – everywhere, as if he spoke them out aloud: 'What if he had overstepped a line? What if he had made him, his father, angry with it? What if he had done something horribly wrong? What if …?' He even could feel the child wanting to say something, could feel him being unable to do so and he could feel the panic rising within the small form of the ghost child.

Reaching over he cupped the back of the child's head and pulled him close until a pale forehead was leaning against his, Snape's stomach.

"You have done nothing wrong, Mr. Snape." He whispered against the child's hair while leaning down. "On the contrary, you could not have made me any prouder today."

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Back at Hogwarts it wasn't as if Harry could have gone home to have a nap or at least lay at the sofa for a while before anything else as – they were guided into the great hall upon entering the castle, and a moment later they were greeted by half the school, teachers, ghosts and students alike awaiting them to celebrate the new familial bond that had been formed just moments ago – as if this bond had been formed upon a signature only. It had been formed throughout the past few weeks already so, nothing new here and he didn't understand why Albus had to make such a big deal out of the situation. Not to mention that he wondered why the headmaster would have made a big deal out of it to begin with, as he had made his point clear to the old wizard.

Harry finally noticed all the people gathered around and his face paled while he stood closer to his now official father, looking down at his shoes, as was his usual stance these days since he had come back from the summer holidays on September, first.

His stomach started to cramp, and he felt himself starting to tremble, felt cold and hot at the same time and a moment later he could feel cold sweat running down his spine, wondering – and not for the first time – how that could happen to a ghost. None of the other ghosts ever had sweat running down their bodies! Why he?

And why couldn't they just leave him alone? Why had he to be here? What was it to them that he was now officially Snape's son? Nothing had changed except for his name, Harry Snape instead of Harry Potter! It wasn't their business! And what was more, he didn't like that there was now one more reason for him to be stared at. And students were staring. Partly at him – again – but also partly at Snape. Judging from the confusion, then shock in their eyes, it was especially Snape's strange attire that was drawing their attention, the Potions Master wearing more private clothes than they ever had seen him in before, namely a black Jeans and a white shirt, because he hadn't had time to change before Dumbledore had ushered them into the great hall.

Feeling ill he wanted nothing else than going home and into his room and then to lay down and never ever again come forth from beneath his blankets! And he had enough of them! Snape fearing that he would freeze to death one night, as it seemed, because he had a soft, brown knitted blanket in his bed, a soft cream blankie – and no, he would not admit this to anyone except of his father ever – and he had his normal blanket, not to forget the second blanket that lay over the foot of his bed. In the nights he covered himself with the knitted blanket while he cuddled with the blankie – and only because the stupid thing lay in his bed and in the way – and then his father came in and covered him with the blanket as well. And later in the night his father always would come in when he slept and cover him, or at least his feet, with the second blanket, as if he would freeze to death one night, honestly!

And yet – he wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he enjoyed it.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Despite of the ruckus Dumbledore had organized, Snape was – more than mildly – proud of the boy and he placed a hand on his shoulder to show his approval, but a moment later he looked down with a frown on his face when Harry unconsciously leaned against his side, his stomach beginning to react to all the strain of this day if the boy running his arms around his stomach was any indication that he felt unwell and ill.

"What is wrong, Harry?" He asked as he felt the weight of the boy against his side and he kept the boy from pulling away the moment he had asked him, the child immediately feeling caught of having done something wrong. But – and how could it had been otherwise -

"Nothing sir." The child immediately answered, and he knew – no way was Harry going to complain. That child had learned his lesson at the hands of his uncle, of Vernon Dursley too well, about telling anyone that he felt ill. It was well drilled into this child's head that under no circumstances was he to complain about anything that bothered him.

Looking down at the child he knew that it was more than just food and rest the child needed.

"Is there a special reason as to why you have asked us into the great hall except of celebrating with this – crowd of people, headmaster?" He asked, his hand still on the boy's shoulder and he could feel the child trembling beside him.

"Isn't a celebration like this reason enough, my dear boy?" Albus smiled at him pleadingly. "I wanted to make up for what had happened, and I wanted to make you and the boy happy."

"I do not appreciate crowded celebrations as you should well know by now, and Harry needs something to eat and some rest, and not even more strenuous activities."

"Oh, but a celebration surely is nothing strenuous, my dear Severus." Albus chuckled and he growled deeply at the man. "And something to eat – here is enough, my boy. Harry can go and have some rest later. I have cancelled all classes for today afternoon after all."

A soft tug at the sleeve of his cloak made him looking down at his son, the boy giving away a quiet "'m fine, 's ok" and he frowned. The boy didn't look 'fine' and neither did he look as if it were 'ok'.

"I rather would have you at home and resting instead of dealing with this here." He quietly said, his dark eyes never leaving the boy ghost.

"'S ok." The child insisted, again. "Really. Professor Dumbledore has done all this, and surely, I won't die just because of …"

"No, you probably won't." He growled, leading the boy to the Slytherin table. "I do not like being meddled over anyway and I expect you to inform me – immediately! – if you feel any more unwell as you already do." He waited until he got a nod from the boy and then he cast one last glance at Draco, waited for a nod of that boy as well before he turned and went towards the head table. Draco would inform him of anything if Harry did not.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

It was an hour later that the Potions Master went over to the Slytherin table to pick up his son and go home.

"You are too pale for my liking." He quietly said, startling the boy that had been listening to a story Draco told the other first year boys. "Let's get you home." He didn't add the 'and into bed' part, knowing that most likely Harry would curse him if he did add such a thing in front of his new house – as ridiculous as it was, seeing that nearly all of his Slytherins had been at this particular point at one time or another too – but well, none of them would like such a comment and surely not that child that had come into this house only a short time ago.

A moment later however he scowled in displeasure when the child stood – and swayed on his feet. Calmly he reached over and took the boy's upper arm to steady him and without a word he led the boy out of the great hall.

Another moment later he had to tighten his grip around the thin upper arm, the thought crossing his mind that he might crash that fragile limp accidentally, and he had to take his other hand for help to grab the ghost child's other upper arm to prevent his son going face first down towards the floor to have a closer look at the tiles.

He took a deep breath the moment he had the boy prevented from that and then pulled him closer, run his right arm behind his son's knees to simply lift him into his arms securely, once more frowning worriedly over the little weight he held in his arms before he hurried down to their quarters.

Of course, he could bring Harry to the infirmary, and he knew that Poppy most likely would scold him for not doing just this, but he wanted the child at home and close to – his body, to the child that most likely, soon, would be either dead completely or alive as well, that soon would live together with them, because he was sure that Harry the ghost would not be ready to go back into his body in time. The little strength the child had left was already waning and he knew that it was a matter of two or three days by now, perhaps even less.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

A moment later he stopped mid-step after he had entered his office, finding none other than Lucius Malfoy standing in the large room and chatting with Venenatus. The blond aristocrat turned the moment he heard him entering and his face immediately went paler than he ever had seen it – and that meant something, considering that a vampire's face barely could get much paler than it already was.

"What happened?" The blond Slytherin softly asked, his pale eyes on the child in his arms and he took a slow step towards him.

"It has been a strenuous day and the headmaster, in his oversized wisdom decided to have a party prepared the moment we came back from the ministry." He said. "I take it that you have come for celebration as well?"

"Actually – yes." Lucius answered, stepping out of his way when he came close to the door that led to his quarters. "Even if not in such a big style as Dumbledore, I would have been happy with a mug of your mead. However, when you wrote that you'd be to the ministry today I wanted to warn you about Hanson being on charge, but I guessed that you wouldn't have enough time to wait a week until Harvest was back."

"Unfortunately – no." He quietly answered, placing his hand onto the door and then opening it, stepping through the doorway and into his private quarters.

"I do hope that she didn't give you too much trouble, Severus." Lucius Malfoy growled, and he sighed.

"No." He answered. "But he gave Harry too much trouble. I actually could feel him being upset through the closed door of her office and I only can hope that I went inside in time to prevent any more harm done than already is with this blasted boy. Sadly, I couldn't do too much concerning Hanson as my first priority was getting my son out of there, but she definitely will hear from me at a later point of time."

Lucius Malfoy was more than mildly worried when he saw Severus carrying the still body of his son, the Potions Master's face pale and the black eyes that were just the more intense in this pale face expressing emotions he hadn't seen in them for a very, very long time, for many years actually.

"I take it that this might have worsened his situation?" He asked while closing the door, watching the man carrying the child's ghostlike body through his quarters and then laying the small body onto the sofa, immediately going over to his kitchen and he knew that most likely the man would get a potion from his laboratory below. Severus wasn't one of the best Potions Masters worldwide for nothing and so he surely would have something that could make the child feeling better.

A moment later the man already hurried back and to his immense shock, Severus knelt beside the couch on which he had laid Harry. He slowly extended his hand and softly as a whisper smoothed the dark hair, muttering soft and comforting words into the unconscious child's ears before he opened the first two buttons of the boy's shirt and then rubbed some salve on the boy's chest, causing the child to shiver and to softly whimper even in unconsciousness.

He doubted that anyone would catch the softly whispered words, but little if anything escaped a vampire's ears and he easily could hear Severus telling Harry that he was safe now and that he wouldn't be hurt, that he wouldn't allow anyone to ever hurt him again. Amazingly, where the history between one Severus Snape and one Harry Potter was unrivalled throughout the entire last year – Harry's shivering now got lesser and his soft whimpering quieted. He even leaned into the soft caresses of Severus' hand and he himself sighed.

That was, what should have been for all those years!

That was, what he knew from those two, Severus and Harry Snape, and only Lily now was missing from this picture.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Later in the afternoon the Potions Master had Harry sitting on the sofa, not allowing the boy to get up to even walk to the bathroom alone and he felt a bit more than – embarrassed, especially with Lucius Malfoy sitting there, Draco's father. He still hadn't found out what their relations were, but what he definitely knew was – the blond man looked like a vampire, just with less large and sharp fangs.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He knew meanwhile that Lucius Malfoy and his father were very close friends – even if the two of them had gotten into a rather loud and angry quarrel the moment he, Harry, had been awake and had recovered from whatever it was he'd had to recover from in the first place, over Lucius Malfoy not telling him about him, Harry, being his son and Lucius telling him that he only had tried to keep both of them safe as the headmaster had threatened him with both their safeties, with his dad's and his, Harry's – or at least something along those lines. Well, a fact that had him still startled and he knew that maybe he'd made the right decision in not trusting the old wizard so much anymore, at least not as much as he'd trusted him last year.

And then he had learned that his father was Draco's godfather since Draco had been born, that Lucius had been friends with his mother as well, that Draco's mother was some kind of cousin to his dad and that …

"So be it." His father's resolute voice got him out of his thoughts, and he looked over at the man, questioningly.

"I fear that your son has been elsewhere with his mind, my dear Severus." Draco's father said and he looked from one to the other, the blond man smirking at the black haired man and the black haired man giving away a suffering sigh at the blond man – it could have been funny, if he wouldn't feel so tired, and unsure.

"Yes, I can see that." His dad said, lifting his eyebrow. "I have just appointed Lucius Malfoy as your godfather, seeing that you do need one." The man then explained, and he had the impression that he wanted to add something but then didn't. "I do hope that you are amenable with having a godfather that is a vampire."

"You really thought of giving me …" Harry gasped, looking to and fro between Lucius Malfoy and his father. "I've never before had a godfather!" He then added, and suddenly he was really unsure of what to do. He would like hugging his father who was so considerable to give him anything he just could need even, while he at the other hand knew that his dad of all people surely wouldn't want being hugged in front of Lucius Malfoy. He knew how private a man his father was after all – however, a moment later he didn't fight against his impulse to hug the Potions Master anymore and he just threw himself at the man, clinging to him tightly.

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Surprised by the emotional outburst Severus almost lost his balance, but he recovered quickly. He was working with bloody emotional children in his house for more than ten years now after all and so he was used to first year Slytherins smiling and laughing happily in front of him, throwing themselves at him to hug him or clinging to him and smearing snot and tears all over his robes. Taking a deep breath Severus patted Harry's head. "It is a godfather only, Harry, and any child should have one."

"Uhm … know … it's just … and I did never have one … and sorry 'cause … well, this … " Harry murmured into his chest and he was sure that the always so pale child had blushed deeply.

"No explanation necessary, Harry." Severus inwardly smiled, not ready yet to tell the child differently, that he actually had a godfather, but that said godfather was a mass murderer that was in jail. "Whenever you feel like hugging me, just do it."

"Yes, Mr. Snape, your father here is a hugging monster himself." Lucius said teasingly, giving away a quiet and deep laugh.

A moment later he frowned at Harry's startled face and then the boy shooting up from the sofa and running over to his room. It took him another moment during which he blinked stupidly into the direction of the child's room before he had comprehended the situation completely and then looked at Lucius who was about to get up while he threw a worried look at Severus as well.

"Stay, I will take care of him." The younger of the two said and headed for the bedroom to which Harry had fled, knowing that Harry might be happy about having Lucius as his godfather – at least it had seemed that he was a moment ago – but that he surely would not trust the blond enough by now to have him in his room and in a situation where he was upset no less. Not yet.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Carefully, Severus opened the door and peeked in.

Seeing that Harry just stood in front of the window, he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"What has happened?" He softly asked. "You actually ran from the room."

"Nothing, sir, sorry." The boy said and frowning he took a few steps closer until he was standing behind the boy.

"I am sure that 'nothing' is not the correct answer." He said, placing his hand atop the bony shoulder and then turning the child. "I do understand if you are not amenable with Lucius being your godfather, seeing that he is not only Draco's father but a …"

"No!" The boy said, startled, and he knew that this had not been the problem – what only deepened his frown.

"Then what exactly is the problem, Harry?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at the child. "And do not tell me that there is none."

"It's …" The boy started before he took a deep breath. "It's just that … I've never realized that … I've always hugged you, but I've never thought 'bout you and if you'd feel uncomfortable and now Mr. Malfoy said you'd be a … and now I thought of you always valuing your privacy so much and I have just invaded your privacy and now even Mr. Malfoy knows and …"

"Harry!" He called out, startled. "Stop this nonsense right now!" The boy looked up at him with his pale face and his wide green eyes and he took a deep breath before he pulled the boy's head close until the pale forehead rested against his stomach. "I have to admit that yes, I am a very private person and I do try to appear as indifferent and as cold as possible whenever I do leave these quarters and have to deal with the world out there, including students and colleagues. And nevertheless, I am a human being and I do have a different side to the cold bastard that is your Potions Master. My Slytherins are the only ones who know this particular side of mine, Lucius does know this side, Minerva – and your mother knew it. And now you do. I do not expect you to ignore it, because as cold as I might appear out there, even I do feel – affected – by my son clinging to me in his overemotional foolishness. I only expect you to keep private what happens here in privacy as I will do the same in regards to your privacy."

"So Mr. Malfoy didn't mean it in a sarcastic way?" The boy asked, small arms coming around his waist hesitantly. "And you don't mind?"

"You are my son, Harry." He sighed. "And so no, I do not mind."

"But you would if I weren't?" The insufferable child asked, and he took another deep breath.

"No, I neither would mind if you were not my son." He then said, increasing his grip on the child's head so that the boy couldn't pull away. "You are living with me for one and a half months now, Harry. Do you not think that what I am feeling towards you is not dependent on our familial relations? I have learned to know you, Harry, not the boy that I have seen last year, and I do regret deeply not having seen you last year. I would do anything to make it undone, but this is something I am not able to."

The boy clinging to him tightened his grip again while small shoulders started to shake, and he knew – once more his robes were smeared with snot and tears.

"And nevertheless – you are my son, and no one can change that now, not even you or me." He softly said while carding his fingers through the boy's hair. "And a son that has made me very proud today by taking my family name." He then added, leading the boy out of his room and back into the living room, relieved that now he wouldn't have to constantly battle with the Ministry – or Albus – and that Harry had opened up to him while Harry at the same time was relieved to have a real family for once and that his dad had listened to him and had talked to him, but especially that his father was proud of him for taking on the Snape name. Maybe his life really started to become normal – well, except for the fact that he was a ghost, that was.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

The remainder of the afternoon had been peaceful. They'd had tea and hot chocolate in Harry's case, and Lucius had made his fun about it, about him, the dark and cold Potions Master that gave a child – hot chocolate.

"I rather have him drinking hot chocolate than anything else as it has a lot of calories, and he does need any calorie he can get to begin with." He had growled darkly at the other wizard. "The boy is still far too thin as it is!"

"Of course, my dear Severus." Lucius had smirked at him. "I never would accuse you of presenting your son with anything he would like. You only order him to drink this stuff he surely does not like because it is nutrient."

"Exactly." He had said, smirking at the blond man.

"But I like it?" The boy's quiet comment that had reminded him more of a question than of a statement had made both adult wizards smile with amusement.

"Of course, you do, child." He had said, running his hand through the boy's hair.

Getting off the sofa wearily he prepared for bed, smirking at the sight of his twelve year old ghost son. The boy had already fallen asleep on the sofa, his arms laying across a book, and the pages rustled while the child breathed evenly. He couldn't suppress a smile while he pulled the book from beneath the sleeping boy's arms and then summoned a blanket, threw it cautiously over the sleeping form.

He knew that – would he now try to lift the child and to get him into his own bed, he would wake and most likely he wouldn't be able falling asleep until much later, and so he left him laying on the sofa, knowing that if Harry woke in the middle of the night he would be able to get him back to sleep easier than now.

After watching the sleeping boy for a few moments, he finally went towards the bathroom to prepare for bed.

Lucius had left after dinner. He had called Draco over after the boy's afternoon lessons and it had been nice, having both boys, Draco and Harry together with Lucius, and he imagined how it would be if he had Harry's body sitting with them as well.

He still knew how dangerous it was, trying to keep both boys alive while being separated, but Harry was dying anyway and there was no sign of the child ever going back into his body. The child, both forms of the child, were getting weaker not only on a daily basis but nearly every hour. He nearly could watch the child getting weaker and stiller, calmer, more tired and more exhausted. And he was not ready to lose him, never mind the risks he was taking, his son was dying, and he was not ready for that. So, if this potions were the only way, if they were the only chances for the child to survive, even if only perhaps, then he would take this chance in the end.

Having one last look at the boy on the sofa, he again, for a moment, wondered if he should take the boy to his bed where he surely would sleep more comfortably than here on the sofa, but then he discarded the thought. The boy was sleeping right now and right now he was sleeping well as it seemed. The sofa was large and the boy so small – it was as if he were laying in a bed instead of the sofa anyway, he shouldn't risk waking the boy who most likely wouldn't be able falling asleep anytime soon then. Barely able to keep his hand from traitorously reaching out towards the child and running through soft black hair he turned and then went into his own bedroom, leaving the door open, just in case.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Slight movement beside him got him awake and in the second between sleeping and waking he realized that it wasn't the first time tonight that he woke from a slight dozing rather than a deep sleep. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember the start of a dream he'd had, and he knew that it had been the start of a dream only, he hadn't been dozing off for long enough to have had a real dream. It had been something that had concerned Harry and –

And that's when the Potions Master became aware that a smaller, more slender body was pressed against him, radiating comforting warmth and he looked down to find Harry sleeping next to him, too close for comfort. A very rare surprised look appeared on his stern features which soon turned to something akin to pity. Even he had to admit he felt for the small child. First Harry had to grow without parents, then he gets abused by his aunt and uncle, after that he even got abused by him, Snape, his own father – and the boy had known that he'd been his father from the beginning on – well, he had died even, and now he had to live with his mean potions professor, said man who had made his potions lessons a living hell despite that he'd been his father, and to top it all off he now finds that some of his fellow students were hating him for just that, for having died – and he had taken all of this stoically, with a stoicism that made him wonder why and how.

Another moment later the slight movement that had woken him repeated itself and this time he clearly could notice that it was a jerking movement, as if the boy were trying to defend himself against an unseen attacker while at the same time a soft whimper escaped his throat. It was clear that the child was having a nightmare and gently he reached over to shake the small ghastly form – without success and he called the boy's name while shaking the small shoulder anew.

It was again – without success.

"Wake up, Harry." He said, softly, gripping the boy's shoulder and drawing him up – to have the child fighting him tooth and nail from one moment to the other, small limbs flailing and fists hitting, feet kicking, while the boy screamed a blood curdling scream.

"Stop this, Harry!" He said, trying to get fully awake while at the same time get a hold at the flailing and screaming boy and avoiding being hit by either a fist or a foot. "Wake up! This is only a dream, come now, wake up, child."

For a moment he wondered why the child had come to his bed, if he'd maybe had a nightmare before and then had come to his, Snape's, room for comfort. But if so, then when had he done so and how had he managed to get into his bed without waking him? It wasn't as if he didn't have a light sleep after all. He was used to getting awake by the slightest noise or movement around him. Draco even accused him that a spider crawling over the floor beneath his bed would wake him.

Just the more remarkable it was that Harry had managed to crawl into his bed even without him noticing. But maybe he had managed because he was a ghost?

"Calm down, child!" He growled, wide awake by now and finally having managed to grab the child around his shoulders and to turn him so that he could pull him with his back against his chest so that he couldn't hurt himself accidentally with his flailing. A moment later he had the boy's head hitting his chest and knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Merlin!" He gasped, trying to get back his breath. "Stop this! You are safe! Harry! Stop!"

But it was without success again and even while he tightened the grip of his left arm around the boy's shoulder and then placed his right hand over the boy's forehead to press his head against his shoulder and to effectively prevent him hitting his head back again – the child started to squirm in his grip like an eel and another moment later the boy had managed to squirm free, scuffling away from him and falling off the bed in the process, hitting his back on the nightstand and giving away another sharp scream of pain.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Severus knew that the boy surely was awake by now, but he also knew that this dream had to be worse than any other dream he'd had before. It had never taken Harry this long to calm after a nightmare since he had come to live with him and his reactions after a nightmare had never before been as violent as it was right now.

Throwing off his blanket he got off the bed and went over to the corner the child had scrambled to, trying to be as less intimidating as possible, nearly coming closer on his knees.

Merlin! What had that particular dream been about so that the child would show such a strong reaction?

"You are safe, Harry." He quietly said while inching closer. "It has been a dream only and you are safe, no one will ever hurt you again, just come here to me."

"No!" It was the first word the boy gave away, but it was a high pitched and panicked scream while the boy at the same time kicked out his feet as if to warn him to not come closer and he frowned. This really was not normal and throwing caution overboard he knew that he had to react now. So, he leaned closer and a moment later he had the boy back in the same grip as he'd had him before, but this time he placed his leg over the boy's legs to keep him from squirming too much.

It wasn't as if the boy wouldn't try and he wondered where the child took the strength from, but he didn't manage to get free this time. And nevertheless, he was more than worried. Not only was it not normal that the child still was in the midst of a panic attack, but he also could feel Harry's heartbeat racing through his chest and after a few minutes awake Harry was still muttering as Severus held him and rubbed his back, trying to calm him in any way he could.

In the end he accioed a calming draught as he was more than just slightly worried over how fast the boy's heart was racing, not to mention the child clearly hyperventilating by now.

"Drink." He ordered, knowing that he would get nowhere with kind and pleading words – the boy tried to shake his head and to get out of his grasp somehow.

"Stop this, now!" He ordered, tightening his grip. "And drink! Now! Swallow!"

A moment later his world seemed to explode.

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He saw Harry laying in his cupboard, already beaten into a bloody mess, while Dursley approached with a cane in his hand.

He could feel Harry's fear and pain, the utter terror, and he could see the boy shaking uncontrollably in his mind.

He could see the same boy laying in a corner while Dursley brought down a belt onto his back over and over again.

He could feel the child tensing to a point where surely, he was to snap while struggling with holding back his cries of pain.

He saw Harry being thrown back by Vernon Dursley, against a wall that was lined with a workbench, and even before the small body hit the edge of the bench, he knew that it would break the boy's fragile back bone – a moment later he could hear the cracking sound and the child's screams of pain while the small body hit the floor.

But then the memory was pushed down into blackness and Harry's owl came into view, Hedwig, if he was correct, an owl so beautiful he always had watched the bird when it entered the great hall during breakfast to nibble at the boy's fingers, begging for food, even back then when in his eyes the boy had been Potter's spawn, the animal now sitting in her cage silently and staring at the boy with fear in much too intelligent dark eyes.

Another flash of Dursley with a cane, with a belt, with a knife – before the memory once more changed to the boy's familiar, the owl staring back.

And suddenly he understood!

Harry had not only taken the abuse without ever complaining because he'd had no other chance, but because he had been trying to keep his owl safe while his uncle had increased the abuse this summer to push the child into any reaction so that he could blame the boy for killing the owl. And now the child even was pushing the abuse he had suffered, he still suffered from, out of his memories to – to what? To still keep the owl safe? Was Harry still protecting his owl? Was Dursley still holding Harry's owl to keep the boy quiet?

"Hush, child." He softly murmured between flashes of Vernon Dursley lifting a cane or a belt high into the air before bringing the beating instrument back down onto a small child. "You're quite safe, and I'll make sure that your owl is safe, too. I'll go back to the Dursleys to get her, and I'll bring …" It was another "no" and the boy increasing his struggle, increasing his squirming and kicking at anything he might reach that got his worries up like a rocket.

He tried to get Harry's attention while he was in his memories still, but the child was so far gone that he didn't even seem to understand what he wanted of him, let alone react in any form possible. Finally, he forced himself out of the boy's memories and then called out for his house elf.

A second later the small creature was beside him, large eyes watching the scene startled while large ears seemed to flap for a moment.

"Get a calming draught and a pain reliever, and mix both potions together." He ordered his house elf, knowing that Zilly would manage. Zilly was the house elf of a Potions Master after all and he often had asked the small creature for help, was even sure that at least until seventh grade Zilly would be able brewing each potion he taught at Hogwarts without his help if necessary.

So, he knew that no further instructions about how to mix them was needed and when the house elf came back a minute later, holding a vial with a purple potion, he knew that it was the one he wanted. He wordlessly took the small glass container, placed it at Harry's lips and then dipped the vial to pour its contents into the boy's mouth.

Again, like he had done twice now with the child since he had come here, he clasped his hand over the boy's mouth and nose, pulling him closer even.

"Just swallow the potion, Harry." He instructed. "I will release you the moment you have swallowed, come now, child, Merlin, please! Just do it for me, child! I promise I will release you the moment you have swallowed this potion."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in "The boy that forgot to die"
Welcome to hell

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 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 …

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

Slytherin 64
Gryffindor 34
Ravenclaw 25
Hufflepuff 07
Hogwarts 19