Title:
The boy that forgot to die

Author:
evil minded

Date:
November, 29th 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"
Of course, he had known that the boy wouldn't be able moving, coming over by himself, but he was sitting close after all and the moment the child would have been about to move, he easily could have pulled him close too. But there had not been any movement.
Neither had there been a question about why he couldn't move his legs, a fact that had him worried a bit, because it not only showed that Harry had known about his back being hurt already before he had taken him from the Dursleys – what made him wonder how long it had been the child had been laying there with his hurt back – but it also showed that he simply accepted, whatever fate threw his way, he simply accepted it.

The boy that forgot to die
Chapter twenty-nine
To anyone who cares
Or you have done nothing wrong, Harry

Well, that had been this late morning, and now they had noon and still there was no improvement, on the contrary.

He was more than just a bit unsettled by the boy actually defying him when he had tried to give him some potions – and later on some rusk and milk with honey for breakfast and one question the child had asked didn't leave his mind: "Why would you even care?"

But now it was time for lunch and again – the child wasn't ready to easily take anything from him, never mind the boy's ghost form taking the bowl with the light soup and again he could see – the boy wanted being part of this, wanted eating with them together, but he didn't know how, or rather what could happen if he did, was scared, while at the same time he was playing the defiant brat, anything to not appear weak.

"You need to eat something, Harry." He said, as calm as possible after another "why would you even care" and he kept his face as impassive as possible too, knowing that this was what would help the child to feel somewhat normal at least.

Well, of course he would not allow his anger to take the upper hand of him, the child had really been surprised that he of all people had cared to provide him with food, and considering the little fact that the Dursleys had denied him even basic food, it was no surprise that the child thought this way only. This was not the child he'd had for several weeks now and that had gotten used to their relationship after all but a child that was entirely new to the situation and that didn't know what to do, how to act and how to re-act. And though he was a strict man, he could overlook a pre-teen tantrum as he knew the reasons behind. Namely that no one ever had shown the child any care, nor mercy or kindness and neither understanding and so he wasn't used to it now, was scared of it even. The child had far too much on his shoulders and he needed some space – and an outlet. He would have to look for something constructive for that, and soon, something that would benefit both the children.

But at the moment he was willing to ignore the child's attitude, knowing that venting was most likely healthy and glancing over at the Gryffindor student he noticed that his eyes seemed to be growing glossy – the child was retreating into himself.

He had seen this behaviour before with some of his students, unable to handle situations that became too strenuous, too much for them to bear, they withdrew into themselves, an unconscious act of self-preservation.

Sitting onto the edge of the bed, forcing himself to not look back at the startled ghost child, he reached over to touch the bony shoulder of the physical Harry. It was time to bring the child back to the present.

"Harry." He softly said, but the boy showed no sign of hearing him. "It is time to return, Harry." He said, more demandingly now and a moment later drained and guarded green eyes met his own black ones. "It is time to eat something, Harry." He then added, again reaching the bowl with the soup at the child. "I want you to eat and you won't be punished for taking the food. You are not at the Dursleys any- …"

"I don't believe you!" The boy immediately said – again – and though the words were defiant, it was all too obvious that his attitude was a mask only, his voice quivering with repressed tears while the green eyes watched the bowl longingly. Clearly the child was hungry and now he tried to play all brave and strong man so that he, Snape, wouldn't dare hurting him, would leave him alone.

Yes, better attacking someone first so this one left, because it was better being alone than being attacked.

Knowing that right now he would get nowhere he just placed the bowl into the boy's lap and then got to his feet and sat into the armchair he had occupied all night long.

The child had sat up earlier, having to accept his help as his arms had been too weak to hold his weight without the help of his legs and this too had been a fight that nearly had ended in a panic attack, but now the boy was sitting there, the bowl of soup placed above the blanket in his lap and he, Snape, he tried to find a solution, tried to find something that would show the twelve year old boy – he cared, but he would allow him some space, for now at least.

He nearly smirked to himself when he called for his house elf that appeared a moment later with a soft "pop", startling the boy.

"Would you please bring the book I have started reading to Harry, Zilly?" He asked and with a soft "of course, Master Snape, sir" the house elf vanished, leaving behind a gawking Harry Snape who apparently hadn't seen a house elf ever before, causing the ghost child to softly chuckle at his facial expression what caused him to scowl at his – brother, for the lack of a better word and he, Snape, he sighed. Barely a day old and already they started with typical sibling behaviour.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Harry watched the Professor warily between half lidded eyes.

He didn't want to know what Snape was doing, he absolutely didn't! Because Snape only was here to make everything worse for him!

Wasn't it enough that he still couldn't move his legs? Wasn't it enough that he still couldn't move his entire lower body and that he felt too week to actually hold his upper body upright without the support of his legs or an armada of pillows? And he knew what this meant! He knew that it meant that he'd never ever again would be able moving his lower parts of his body, because if Madam Pomfrey had healed everything else – what she clearly had, much to his embarrassment about her knowing about his home life with the Dursleys – then she surely would have healed that, too, if she would have been able to. And the fact that she didn't made clear that she hadn't been able to.

And well, wasn't that enough already?

And wasn't it enough that he felt ill actually because of his hunger? And wasn't it enough that he was so very, very tired and exhausted?

No – no, apparently it wasn't enough, because it had to be Snape who had to be here. Snape of all people!

Why couldn't McGonagall be here? Or Dumbledore?

Alright, maybe not Dumbledore, he wasn't so fond of the old wizard anymore since the end of last term and during his holidays with his relatives he'd had enough time to think, too. But McGonagall could be here during the holidays instead of Snape, but no – it had to be Snape who stayed during the holidays! Snape of all people!

And this other Harry, his other self, his ghost self, or whatever it was.

He was scary, no wonder he seemed to like Snape.

On the other hand – there was a familiarity between them that he wanted too, and it hurt, it actually hurt in his chest watching them while at the same time he couldn't take his eyes off them.

Snape touched the other boy, and not in a bad way. Neither did he beat him, nor did he touch him at inappropriate places, but he touched his shoulder, or his forehead, or his arm, and in a way any father would with his son. Wasn't that what Snape had told him? That he had adopted him? But it was Snape still, after all, Snape!

For years Snape had ignored him, had disowned him, had denied that he was his father – and he was sure that Snape had known, never mind what, surely a father would know about his children?

His mother had written in her letter that Snape wouldn't know, and that he would have to tell him, but surely that couldn't be right, because surely Snape would know if he had a child, a son, but he had hated him so very much that he rather had disowned him instead of acknowledging him as his son. Maybe he had feared that he wished to be his hair, but he wouldn't want anything, he wouldn't want any inheritance. He always only had wanted that what this other Harry, his ghost, seemed to have, his father's care, nothing else.

But every now and then Snape seemed to invite him, Harry, seemed to ask him over too, and he wanted, he so badly wanted that too, wanted being held like this ghost form was held, but he knew that surely he couldn't have that, not he, never he! He was bad and he was ugly, not even uncle Vernon wanted to touch him anymore. Surely nothing he was unhappy about, but nevertheless, it only showed that surely Snape wouldn't touch him either.

But well, he didn't want it anyway and he couldn't understand how this other Harry would want that. It was Snape after all, and he neither wanted to know what Snape was doing nor did he want anything from Snape, or the professor being friendly. It simply was a survival instinct that had him following his teacher with his eyes, but he wasn't really interested in whatever the man was doing.

Not one little bit!

He watched the man sitting down in the armchair and opening the book the strange creature had brought a moment ago and he sighed with relief. At least Snape allowed him some space and some peace while reading, he'd be able to think and he'd be able to dream himself, to go back into his own world where he had built a safe place.

Before he however could concentrate on the small place that was his very own residence in his dream world, surrounded by large trees that weaved a web of protection that no one could penetrate, with ladders, fences and plank bridges that led from tree to tree, forming a small town high up in the trees, with chairs, sofas and tables scattered around and above the trees, the Slytherin opened the dark brown leather bound book and – "to anyone who cares – or the story of the valley of wolves" Snape read aloud and for a moment Harry couldn't help gawping at the man.

Snape!

Snape reading a book to him!

Snape of all people, the darkest and coldest and meanest person at all Hogwarts, the one teacher that had made his potions lessons a living hell twice a week and he of all people was reading a book to him! Imagine! Snape reading a book to any student! It was impossible and surely he had hurt his head or something because surely he was hallucinating.

But – "the valley of wolves surely was not a valley that was built for wolves nor were only wolves living there but humen mostly." Snape read on, apparently not caring about him, Harry, gawking at him like a fish in a glass and he watched the ghost leaning against the man's side, Snape actually – and here he nearly gave away a chocked noise – running his arm around the ghost's shoulder! "No, there just were a few wolves too, living in the midst of the valley, not at the borders but in the very midst of the valley and therefore the place was called – the valley of wolves. It was located in the midst of a desert but there was a large river running through the barren land and the valley was built into one of the many stream bends. It wasn't large either, only a few houses, maybe twelve or thirteen houses and one larger building that could be called a castle or something similar. The strange thing about this valley however was not the wolves, and believe me, there was a strange thing about that village, but it was the children, because in this village there were only children. Not a single adult could be found there, and even the village itself – it had been built by those children even, with magic, but built by them.

It was called wish-magic and it provided the wisher with what he needed and wished for in his darkest hour and so it was clear that something must have happened for those children to live there alone, without their parents and families, something must have happened for this kind of magic having enfold itself."

Closing his eyes, he started to relax.

He just wouldn't listen to what Snape read, he simply wouldn't allow himself to be drawn into the story Snape was reading. He wasn't as weak as Snape clearly thought him to be and he wasn't a fool either. Snape couldn't mess around with him. He might have been able to with his ghost, but not with him! He just wouldn't listen and then everything was alright.

"But let us get back to the village and the children themselves first." Snape went on reading, apparently unaware of his inattention. "They all were around the same age, boys and girls, and there were exactly twenty-eight of them. Some of them were friends and some of them were enemies, in fact, they had come to the valley in two groups actually, and as some of them were weak and some of them were strong, just like it always was in real life, those who were strong, they soon had overtaken the lead of both groups.

There was no visible line going through the village, nor were they actually separated, even their houses were mixed instead of separated in two groups! No, it rather was an invisible line, one that lived in their hearts and in their minds only, but knowing that they had to work together if they wanted to survive in the wilderness of the desert, and amongst the wolves no less, they tried to at least work not against each other.

Well, on the one group there was Dominic Houston, a fourteen year old boy with white hair and a pale skin, nearly like a doll, fine limbs and blue eyes that were as deep as an ocean, but as delicate as he seemed, he had the strongest will of them, and his magic was powerful. It was that reason as to why he soon was the leader of that group and he even had been the one who had the built houses being mixed instead of separated into two groups."

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed further while despite of all his trying he couldn't help listening to the story.

Well, Snape didn't have to know that he was listening, did he?

He just would listen a bit, until he knew who the leader of the other group was and what they were doing there in this desert, and what the wolves had to do with them and where the adults were, why they were alone and what had happened, because anything was better than thinking of his own situation and listening to Snape's deep and velvet voice actually helped him to finally relax.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Watching the boy out of the corner of his eyes while he was reading, he was satisfied. This child, relaxing into the pillows he had stuffed behind the boy's back earlier, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, was reacting very much similar to his ghost, something he had hoped for, and for a moment he actually felt his ever present calmness arising again. Maybe it wouldn't be as difficult as he had feared, handling this Harry, because he already knew how to handle Harry the ghost.

He even nearly huffed when he noticed how hard the boy tried to appear not listening to him while his head was turned to one side a bit, a sign of concentration, his eyes either closed or elsewhere but at him while he seemed to very much straining his ears to hear.

Foolish child!

As if he wouldn't notice that he listened to the story. What did the boy think? He should know him well enough by now to know that he barely missed anything, he'd been his teacher for an entire year after all, and surely not a pleasant teacher to mess around with.

But well, most likely exactly there lay the problem and maybe it was better leaving the child in his believes for now, thinking that he didn't notice him listening, because this Harry didn't know him as did the Boy Ghost.

And so he simply read on, the book held in his left hand while his right arm was draped over the ghost child's shoulders, the boy leaning against his side, his head resting at his, Snape's shoulder and he only could hope that the need and the want the other child clearly expressed, the green eyes watching them longingly, would overcome his distrust and his hate, that he either would give away any sign of wanting to be held too, or that he would try to scoot over.

Harry, the ghost form at the same time, was unaware of his physical form watching them so longingly.

He simply sat there on the armchair his father sat in, in the tiny, small space between the armrest and the man's thighs, but he didn't have any trouble with the small space, he fit in there perfectly and he was leaning against his father's side, his eyes closed and simply enjoying being held, like always, listening to the man's deep and velvet voice and even if he knew the beginning of the story already, knew that there had been an accident, that the two classes had been on a trip and their teachers had died, and that they now were stranded in the desert, he nevertheless listened, because soon they would reach the part he didn't know, his dad had started reading him the book just the evening before after all.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Watching both Harries while he read he could understand the ghost form being so unaware of his physical form watching them so longingly, because he knew – Harry had lacked any attention, any affection, any touch and any other means of comfort or support, had missed even basic survival needs, and now he just wasn't able to concentrate on any of his surroundings when it was given and he only could hope that one day the same shy smile, as small as it might be, would spread over the other child's face, too, like it did right now with the ghost form that was so unaware.

Merlin, he really needed to re-name one of the two children.

But not now.

Right now, he knew that he had to get both children comfortable with each other – and with him, by the way.

Well, he surely wouldn't hope for a really laughing child, even Harry that was a ghost he had heard him laughing only once, when Draco had told them about all the questions Weasley, Thomas and Finnigan had been asked for three days – not to mention the howler Molly had sent during lunchtime when nearly all the student body was present.

Flashback

"You won't believe it, but Weasley got asked every few minutes of how long he had wet his own bed during the night, and know what he answered? He said he'd been eleven still, at Hogwarts even!" Draco said upon entering, not even waiting for their answer and he shook his head. That was a typical behaviour of his godson, and he really would have to have a serious talk with the boy. But for now, well, he'd known that his godson would inform them, but he hadn't thought that it would be so soon already, but well – anything that would cheer up Harry, because the child really was feeling dejected after the potions lesson two days ago.

"Know." Was all Harry said however and both, Draco and he, Severus, gaped at the green eyed child.

"You knew, Potter?" Draco asked, incredulously. "Sorry, Harry, I meant. But if you knew, then why haven't you got back at him for peeing in your bed? Because that definitely is disgusting!"

The idiot boy only shrugged his shoulders, but he too, he barely could believe it.

It was one thing if an eleven year old child – or a twelve year old child even – wet his bed once in a while because of emotional stress, because of a trauma he'd been living through – and dying, or being abused, surely could be counted as a trauma – but it was an entire different story for a child that age to wet his bed regularly and maybe he should inform Molly about that, because clearly she should take the boy to a healer as there had to be a reason for that.

And Harry had known about it and had never teased Weasley because of it? Had most likely covered his friend's accidents so that the others in their dormitory might not learn of it? Just the more unbelievable and horrendous was the fact that Weasley had now urinated on Harry's bed, his friend that had covered him apparently in more than one area of life.

"You know what the Weasley twins asked?" Draco went on, sitting down onto the sofa and taking one of the cookies he always had there since Harry was living here in his quarters.

Well, maybe Harry would take a page out from Draco's book and start taking a cookie himself without him, Severus, having to tell him to take one, because so far the child never took anything without being told to.

"One of them asked 'if you think no one is looking, what is the one thing you would do?' and Weasley said he'd pick his nose! And the other twin asked what he'd do with the boogers and Weasley went as red as a tomato and said he'd eat them. He added that everyone ate them, but no one listened anymore because everyone was laughing already."

Well, Harry didn't laugh, but he was smiling, shaking his head, and he started relaxing into the familiarity of the sofa he always was sitting at, accepting Draco in their presence without a fuss even if he could watch him getting quieter.

"I do hope that the Slytherins have behaved so far." He growled playfully.

He knew that they wouldn't, not this time, but for once he didn't really mind and for once he wouldn't punish them for making fun of someone else – this one time, he'd overlook. Weasley not only deserved it, but he also had brought it over himself by foolishly drinking the entire vial of the truth serum, the idiot child. And Thomas and Finnigan had just had to follow his lead! Not to mention that his Slytherins in acting up now were about to teach Harry a lesson on what it meant being a Slytherin, namely that they stood up for each other, never mind if this other suddenly was the boy who lived – or the boy that forgot to die in this case right now.

Well, theoretically he should teach Harry a lesson too, on what it meant being a Slytherin, by punishing them for their making fun of Weasley and co because that was part of being a Slytherin too – whatever they did, they either were praised for their accomplishments or they were punished for their misdeeds, and that surely did not mean points being given or taken. He had his own system with them, but as harsh and as demanding as he was, he was fair with them, the reason as to why they trusted him the way they did, like they did no one else, sometimes not even their own parents.

"And then Edgecombe, Bradley Edgecombe, the Ravenclaw prefect, he asked what the first thing was Thomas did when he woke in the morning, and he answered that he jerked off!"

"Any less primitive questions?" He asked with a suffering sigh and his typically raised eyebrow, just before he narrowed his eyes at Harry, wondering why the boy would look away at that particular question. Maybe he should have been present in the great hall when Thomas had been asked this, and maybe he should have pressed on with a few questions of himself and he saved his information in the back of his mind for later inspection.

"Well, one of the twins asked Weasley what his favourite toy was when he'd been a child." Draco then said, chuckling. "A question that did seem rather harmless, I first thought, but then Weasley answered with an 'a muggle doll that could cry and laugh when being fed.' Imagine!"

End flashback

Well, at this Harry had laughed, and it had been the first and only time he actually had heard the child laughing, really laughing – a sound that would have made him happy if it hadn't been caused by such stupidity like Weasley and Co had shown and caused.

"Andrew Charleston was the other boy that had overtaken the lead, from the second group." He read on, hoping that one day both boys would trust him and laugh and act like any normal twelve year old child would. "He was the pure opposite from Dominic Houston. He had black hair, darker skin and dark brown eyes. He wasn't fragile either but rather sturdy a bit and he had been the one who had suggested underground network of roads, just in case."

It had been good to see the child laughing, definitive.

There were so many horrible things in his son's life – and the worst wasn't even the boy's death, because as much as he liked killing the old man, but in one thing Dumbledore was right – death only was the next step to the next adventure. No, he rather thought of the pain and the fear the child had been living through, at the desperation and the helplessness, the hopelessness, the emotional pain as well as physical pain and again he couldn't get the memory of the boy's owl dying out of his mind.

But well, he had his ever calm demeanour back and he was more than glad for that. It was an unpleasant experience for him, losing his self-control, because his self-control was the one thing he could trust in and that had kept him alive in more than one situation during the past years.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

He nearly jumped at the stop of Snape's voice reading and he scowled at himself. He hadn't noticed that he had listened so deeply. He only had intended on listening a bit and he felt angry at himself for falling for the man's trap while at the same time he wondered what the man wanted of him to begin with.

Of course, he knew that Snape was his father, he had called for him long enough and often enough when he'd been younger, wondering why his dad had abandoned him there at the Dursleys, wondering what he'd done wrong so that his dad didn't love him anymore, but then he had come to Hogwarts and he had met the man again, his father, and it wasn't just the man not loving him anymore – no, he hated him even.

And he didn't even know why, he didn't know what he'd done.

But well, he'd given up on trying. He had tried during the first few weeks last year, had so hard tried to please the man and to gain back his attention and his care and his love – but Snape wasn't able for that, Snape was Snape and Snape always would remain Snape – and Snape was scary, mean, dark, cold and simply a bastard of a teacher that loved to torment his students, not like uncle Vernon, but in some ways.

So why was Snape now trying to – to do what even?

"You have done nothing wrong, Harry." Snape's soft voice got him out of his thoughts, and he looked over at the man, watching the calm face, the calm black eyes and for a moment he wondered why there was no hate in them. The next thing he noticed was how tired Snape looked, pale and tired as if he had sat there for days and nights, as if … he didn't know …

'As if he cared.'

Scowling he looked away from the man.

Snape didn't care. Snape never would care, not about him anyway!

"I do care, Harry." Snape's voice made him looking up at the man again, and again he noticed how tired Snape looked, but his black and calm eyes were serious. "I do care, and you have done nothing wrong. Do place the blame where it belongs to, namely at the Dursleys and at Dumbledore, at the Dark Lord and at me even, but not at your person because you have done nothing wrong."

"You haven't either." His own voice, the ghost's voice, this of the other Harry that was so scary too, said.

"In a way, I have, Harry." Snape said, looking down at this ghost he was holding still and the jealous he felt was becoming nearly unbearable. He too wanted that! He didn't understand why, but he wanted being held too! Why did he want being held by Snape? By Snape of all people? He didn't understand it! "I shouldn't have trusted Dumbledore from the beginning, I never should have spied on the Dark Lord for Dumbledore, and then your mother would never have taken you and left, because I would have been there."

"You would have been away never mind what job you've had." The ghost softly said and looking up at the man again – yes, as the father of the family he would have had to leave the house and go to work and so he'd been away anyway. So maybe his mother had been right? And it had been the situation, and no one's fault in particular? But then why had Snape never come to visit him?

Other parents visited their children, too, if they lived separated from them. So why had Snape never visited him? And if he had visited him, then surely he would have seen how he lived at the Dursleys and then he surely would have taken him away.

But would he really have taken him away? Maybe he had known and had therefore never visited him because then he would have to take him?

But he had taken him away in the end anyway, so maybe he would have done so from the beginning on if he had visited him?

But well, this was a mute question, because …

"I would have taken you from the Dursleys if I had known." Snape's voice got him out of his thoughts and out of his doubts, too, and looking up again, he again could see that the man's black eyes spoke of no lies. And again, he wanted being there, where his ghost was, in the man's arms. But why wanted he being held by Snape? It was SNAPE! "Even before I had any memories of you being my son back, I would have taken you away from there the moment I had learned of any abuse, never mind what! And if I had known that you were my son, then I would have taken you after your mother's death. I never would have allowed you at the Dursleys if I had known, I never would have allowed Petunia to take you."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in The boy that forgot to die
Even in the darkest of nights

Added author's note:
thank you for reading - and yes, I would be glad if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you
also, like in the past, I have installed the house cup – with each review, please state your house, so that your house can get points. There won't be loss of points, only gains … may the best house with the most reviews win …
Please also note that I have installed a new category: Hogwarts, as one reader or another (Jostanos, just for example) prefers to review for Hogwarts itself instead of one of her houses … and who knows, perhaps one day a reader might come from another wizarding school to add their review … thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing …

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

Slytherin 77
Gryffindor 36
Ravenclaw 27
Hufflepuff 13
Hogwarts 21
Durmstrang 02