Title:
Twenty-one days
Prequel to:
A few days more
Author:
evil minded
Date:
November, 23rd 2009
Timeframe:
Fourth year at Hogwarts
Summary:
AU / Death Eaters besiege Hogwarts. A spell from Dumbledore is going astray. A cauldron explodes during potions class. And the old castle enfolds its own magic. Can some students survive for the next twenty-one days?
Disclaimer:
Did you see Severus alive at the end of 'The deathly hallows'? no?
Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?
Then you know that 'Harry Potter' does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably …
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 twenty-one days
"Remember my correct words, professor – 'if you ever need someone willing to continue Severus Snape's work, then you will have to find me'. If those children need help with their Death Eater parents, then they will have to find me. If those children need help with their abusive parents, then they will have to find me, but I refuse to take over Severus' job as a teacher and head of house."
"I have hoped you would, Mr. Hrothgar, but I can understand your refusal." Albus said with a heavy sigh. "Wouldn't it have been for the ministry, then I would not have held this remembrance vigil yesterday. It was good for all those people to say what they have thought, and it was good for all those people to hear what was said – but it was as if giving up on them."
"That it was." Hereweald Hrothgar admitted. "And yet – I refuse to give up on them, I refuse to believe that they are dead."
Chapter twenty-three
Day seventeen - Wednesday, eighteenth of September
Last will and a teddy bear
"Harry?" Severus asked, frowning, the moment he woke, noticing that the spot beside him was abandoned and cold. How in Merlin's name had the boy managed to get off their – 'bed' without waking him? And what was the boy up to anyway?
"Dad?" Came said boy's answer from where the table stood in the middle of the classroom, near their – makeshift camp – and he got up, stretching his limbs before he walked over to his son, wondering how he had gotten used so quickly to the term 'dad'.
"What are you doing up, son?" He asked, frowning, sitting down beside the boy that clearly had been scribbling on a parchment for a long time. "It is not even morning yet."
"I … well … I just …" The boy stammered before sighing and averting his eyes, looking down at the parchment he had been writing on, murmuring an apology, and frowning Severus took the parchment from beneath the boy's hands, ignoring the startled and horrified look on the Harry's face.
'Harry Snape's last will' he read, and he sighed.
He wasn't sure about how he should feel about the child writing down his last will. On the one hand – he did not like the fact that Harry made a last will in the first place, that it might even be necessary. But on the other hand – the boy only tried to prepare himself, to the best of his abilities, what even was his right, and he sighed again, slowly sliding the parchment back towards the child.
"You have never had an adult to go to when you had a problem and so you had no other chance than learning to solve all your problems alone." He quietly said, his voice sad. "This parchment is proof of that. You have learnt to prepare for whatever lies before you to the best of your ability alone and you try to think of everything that could be necessary – even concerning your own death … never mind when it will come in the end. The fact that you fear I would not be pleased about you writing down your last will – it is proof of how unsure you are about yourself and your actions due to the fact that you had never had an adult who taught you what would be appropriate behaviour and what not. And while I am indeed not pleased about the fact that such is even necessary in the first place, I am not angry with you for writing this parchment. I have done so myself, writing a last will." He said, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder for comfort. "If it provides you with comfort, you may place it on my desk where it will not get lost, where it will be found. I promise, I will not read it without your consent."
"So … so you're not angry with me?" The boy asked, unsureness still in his voice despite his earlier assurance that he wasn't angry.
"About writing this parchment in the first place?" He asked, a hint of amusement on his face. "No, I am not, Harry. I am, however, not pleased about the fact that you wrote this during the night. You do need your sleep and you do need sleep desperately."
"But I couldn't sleep." The boy quietly said. "I woke in the middle of the night, and I felt so restless. I just had to get up and start on this."
"Why didn't you wake me, child?" Severus asked. "I could have provided you with at least company if with nothing else."
"Because … well … I didn't …"
"You didn't think that I would allow you writing your last will, did you?"
The teen shaking his head made him sigh again.
"And neither am I pleased about you writing this without at least one candle by your side." He then said. "Your eyes are not well to begin with, and you are only making it worse while writing in the dark."
"But we need to save the candles." The boy said, looking up at him desperately, the graveness of the situation written on his drawn face. "And there's the fire that gives a bit of light."
"That small fire still does not provide you with enough light for writing. Why didn't you just take the candle from my desk, child?" The Potions Master asked sadly.
"The … your … but …" Harry stammered and again he couldn't keep the amusement from his face – even if this amusement was mixed with worry and concern. "I couldn't … I couldn't just take the candle from your desk!"
"It is not glued to my desk, you know? However, then why did you not write this parchment on my desk instead?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the shocked face of his son.
"At your … but … no!" The child nearly screamed by now. "I couldn't just sit at your desk to … it's your desk!"
"So what?" Severus asked, his voice, too, now filled with amusement. "If I manage lowering myself to sitting at the table together with all of you imbeciles, then I am sure that you can lower yourself to sitting at my desk."
Well, the shocked, the flabbergast, the absolutely horror-stricken face of the boy was nearly enough to make him laugh, but the seriousness of the situation caught up with him rather soon.
"It at least would provide you with enough light and next time you plan on writing anything, I ask you to do just that." He seriously said.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
He had ordered Harry back to bed, and he had taken the parchment the boy had been writing and had placed it on his desk, together with his own notes he had made during the past days. Albus would find it there and he knew that the old wizard would regard the boy's last wishes, whatever they were. He had promised he would not read it, and so he hadn't.
Sighing he ran his hand over his face.
Merlin, he was tired!
But he also knew that going back to sleep wouldn't be possible. He had laid down behind Harry when he had sent him back to bed, had wrapped his arms around the thin body of his son like he always did lately, knowing that the boy would fall asleep sooner that way, but he had not been able to sleep himself, and so he had gotten up again the moment he had been sure that Harry had fallen asleep in his arms, working his arms carefully from underneath and around the boy without waking him – something he had become rather good at lately.
The other children had woken shortly after and right now they were about to take a shower, one pair at the time like he had demanded a few days earlier.
It had been strange, but none of the children had complained about his order and – even if he had thought they would – none of them had disobeyed him with it either. The girls had looked uncomfortable when they had left for the first time, but when they had come back from the shower, they had even joked and soon they were not only in pairs but in a threesome or foursome. As were the boys. The only one still not ready to go to the shower with one of the other boys was Harry, and so he took him to the shower himself.
Both of them had been uncomfortable in the beginning, and the boy was still somewhat uncomfortable, but he never had really complained.
Flashback
All the other students were back from the shower meanwhile and still Harry had made no move to go to the bathroom himself and the Potions Master sighed at the green eyes that were lowered stoically onto the potions text book in front of him without moving, indicating that he wasn't reading at all – most likely hoping to avoid this walk.
He himself did not look forward to it and he had hoped that Harry would go with one of the other boys. But he had not, and so he had no other choice than going with the child. But well – he was his son and so – well, he would manage doing it. It wasn't the first time after all that he saw a naked teenage body. He was a head of a house on a boarding school after all, so of course he had seen one or another of his students without clothing at one point or another during the past thirteen years since he was a teacher at Hogwarts now.
He noticed the teen holding his breath when he approached him and the bony shoulders stiffened when he placed his hand on them while the child slowly turned his head up to him, looking at him questioningly, as if he actually had to ask him what he wanted, as if he didn't know the reason of his approach already.
"It is your turn to take a shower, Harry." He said, keeping his voice as well as his face as indifferent as possible, knowing that it already was hard enough for the child without any emotions he, Severus, might display at the thought.
"Oh." The boy made. "Ok, I'll just go." And out of his chair he was, quickly hurrying towards the bathroom, nearly fleeing their current position, and it was clear that he thought he could go alone.
Shaking his head, he followed the teenager out of the classroom and along the corridor that led to the bathroom, catching up with him the moment Harry tried to close the door after entering the room.
"Not so fast, young man." He said, stopping the door from going close. "I am sure you know the deal. No showers are taken alone and that goes for you as well."
"Uhm … well … you don't have to … I mean, I'll manage …"
"Yes, I am sure you will manage the three parchment essay about obeying my orders which are set not without a reason." He drawled, watching the boy's face going into defeat mode, and he entered the bathroom after the teen, and then closed the door.
For a moment the teen made no move to undress and take the shower and the Potions Master kept himself from giving away a sigh.
"Take off your shirt und come here before you undress completely and take your shower so I can take a look at your back while we are in privacy." He said, just to take some of the awkwardness out of the situation, to get the boy to take the first step and Harry slowly did, definitely stalling for time.
He just as slowly came over to him and Severus had to force himself to keeping his eyes at the child's pale face instead of looking at the thin and bony chest when Harry came close, knowing that his son would only feel more uncomfortable then, and just when he stood in front of him he gave a curt nod at the boy and placed his hand on the bony shoulder, turned him towards the candle that burned on a small shelf in the corner he stood in, moved out of the dim light so he could inspect the scars that littered the boy's chest and stomach, running his fingertips over them to make his intention clear – namely not gawking at the boy but concentrating onto the scars alone.
Of course, he knew that they had healed meanwhile. Not only had he had a look at them twice since he had applied the healing salve over them twelve days ago, but he also knew that his potions and salves worked the way they should. But at the same time, he also knew that the boy needed time to get used to the situation and to get used to his presence right now, that he needed reassurance right now. And so, he took that time to do just that, never mind how pointless it was in the first place.
Turning the boy with his hand on his shoulder he continued inspecting the scars on his son's back, again running his fingertip over them, again solely to make clear his intention while his anger at the boy's relatives grew anew at the sight and he gritted his teeth to keep from growling darkly.
"They look alright." He quietly said. "None of them are infected. Go on and undress and then take your shower. I won't look, I promise. But I want you to address me the moment you feel the slightest trace of dizziness or weakness or pain. Did I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." The boy answered and he could hear the relief in his voice. Had he thought that he would have to shower together with him? The boy was fourteen and surely it was not appropriate to take a shower together with the teen. It would do if he was close by and had an eye and ear on the situation.
"What have you planned for the day?" He asked while sitting onto the stool that stood in the corner beneath the candle, turning slightly so he could give the boy some sense of privacy while he still had him in the corner of his eyes.
"Dunno." The boy answered while getting off his shoes and socks, and he concentrated on the voice. "I've started chapter seven in the potions book, about the Draught of the Living Death."
"Hmm … we would have brewed a lighter variation of that potion during the second term, shortly before the summer holidays." He mused, wondering if they would even brew that potion at all at one time this year. "The actual Draught of Living Death is brewed in your NEWT class during sixth year."
"I wondered … why couldn't we brew this potion to fall asleep and then simply wait until the headmaster found us?" Harry asked while he leaned out of the shower to place his trousers and shorts which he had taken off in the shower stall onto the floor outside and he could even hear the sigh of relief at the fact that he was hidden from his view.
"I see your point of view." He said. "It would be like hibernating and the headmaster could wake us with the counter potion. However, you forget that an animal that goes into hibernation is gathering fat reserves before doing so. None of you have done so. And nevertheless, it could have been possible, if all of you would have been fit in the first place, but you have not. Neither Theodore nor you would have survived such 'hibernation' in the first place for example and Draco, Tracy, Daphne, and Blaise as well as Lavender and Parvati would not have survived waking from the Draught of the Living Death as it takes a lot of energy the moment your body has to regain all his functions. Then there is Pansy for example who is allergic to the asphodel in the potion, she wouldn't have been able to take it at all, while Neville is allergic to the sopophorous beans in the potion. He would have died the moment he had swallowed the draught."
"Oh." Came Harry's voice from under the shower. "Ok, then that was a stupid idea."
"No, it was not a stupid idea, Harry." He said. "It was a very good idea indeed and you have a lot of such good ideas."
"Yes, just like the white knight that is still running along the walls in the classroom." The boy growled.
"So what?" Severus growled back. "It has been an idea that had not worked, but it had been an idea in the first place and every idea is worth a try. It could have worked, and the Draught of the Living Death could have worked just as well. What if you have an idea tomorrow and keep it to yourself just because you think it would be a stupid idea and later you learn that it could have saved the lives of your friends because it would have worked? It was a good idea, but unfortunately one that simply didn't work, and you just have to think of something else, Harry."
"I'm too tired to think of much, lately." Harry sighed beneath the running water and the Potions Master lifted his eyebrow. If the boy admitted that he was too tired to think of much, then he really must be tired. The boy normally admitted nothing. At least nothing that had to do with anything that could be thought of as weakness.
The boy's head, appearing out of the shower, green eyes looking around the bathroom and coming to rest on the towel that hung over the bar to the Potions Master's right, out of his reach, made Severus smirk for a moment.
"Looking for this, Mr. Snape?" He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm at the teen's blush, but then he took the towel and reached it over to the boy who reached a wet arm out of the shower to grip the anything else than dry fabric after all the other students already had dried themselves with the towel. He watched the towel disappearing behind the shower wall and a moment later the boy reached out again, placing the offending thing on the floor beside his trousers before gripping them – and slipping into them while still being in the shower stall.
End flashback
Harry had tried to get himself dressed while exposing as less body parts as possible and he had slipped into his shorts and trousers while still being in the shower stall even, even though he had again turned slightly, looking at the door instead of into the boy's direction.
It had become somewhat easier over the past three days, but Harry was still somewhat uncomfortable, and he always tried to hide himself away as much as possible. It was a thought that didn't leave his mind and he wondered if there might be more to it than simple shyness. Not only should the boy have gotten used to his presence in the shower for four days now, but the fact that he still slipped out of – or into – his trousers while being in the shower stall, and the way he sometimes looked at him, not only uncomfortable but actually scared, it made him, Severus, wondering if there might be more to the abuse those monsters had bestowed upon the boy.
If someone starved a child like the Dursleys had done – for years, if they locked a child into a cupboard – for days on end, and if someone beat a child like they had done – would it be so absurd to think that perhaps – just perhaps – they could have abused said child sexually as well?
He always talked to the boy when he was in the shower where he couldn't see him, trying to decipher the boy's condition by listening to his voice when he answered, and aside from the strain of simply feeling uncomfortable, he always could hear fear in the boy's voice as well. He had closed his eyes at one point when they had been talking in his office, concentrating on the child's voice alone then, but back then he had not heard the same fear that he always heard in the shower when the boy was naked. And therefore, he knew that Harry feared something might happen there or then.
And the fact that Harry did not address him with his fears, that he even had them – told him enough, namely that not only something might have happened when being with his relatives, but also that the child still did not trust him, not completely at least.
He looked down at the boy that, just now, started to wake and with a sigh he sat down beside him, waiting for him to wake fully, still thinking. The boy did not hold the same fears when he touched him while he was dressed, not even when he pulled him close and embraced him, and not even when he lay behind him on the mattresses, holding him in his arms until the boy fell asleep – as long as he was clothed.
"G'morn." The boy made and he looked down at him again, his eyebrow lifted.
"Morning …" He commented dryly. "It has to be around eleven meanwhile. Did you at least sleep better than you have last night?" He then asked, his sarcasm changing into worry.
"Yes." The boy answered, running his hand over his face and yawning. "The noise of all those imbeciles maybe helped me sleeping." He smirked sheepishly and the Potions Master couldn't help huffing.
"Imbeciles, indeed." He growled. "Including yourself, Mr. Snape. Get up and ready for the shower, you imbecile."
Of course, at the mentioning of the shower the boy's face fell and he was sorry for that, but … well, it just was that way, he couldn't change it, never mind how much he wished he could, and so he led the boy out of the classroom and along the corridor to get this over with as quickly as possible so Harry would be able to relax for the rest of the day.
Harry, who slowly walked in front of him, stumbled and the unexpected movement got him out of his thoughts again. He barely had time to reach out and to take a hold on the boy's falling form, on his upper arm to prevent him from crashing face first into the stony floor and a moment later he heard a sickening scream and quickly lowered the boy to the floor, his hand coming to rest on the whimpering child's back while Harry cradled the arm he had gripped to keep him from falling.
"Harry?" He quietly asked, rubbing calming circles over the teen's back, but he got no answer aside from a weak headshake that most likely was meant to tell him that it was nothing.
"Harry." He said when it was clear that he wouldn't get another answer. "Let me see your arm."
But again, there was only a headshake, accompanied by a weak "'s ok" in a trembling voice.
"Harry!" He growled, cursing himself. "Let me see your arm. Right now!" Damn! He should have been more careful. He should have had a better eye on the boy, wasn't that the reason he accompanied him to the shower in the first place? And he should have been more careful when he had gripped his arm. The boy was so thin, his arms sticks covered with skin only. Of course, a tight grip on them would hurt him, maybe he had even broken the fragile limb by gripping it as tight as he had.
"'s ok." The blasted brat repeated. "Really."
"It is not 'ok', Harry." He sighed, reaching out and opening the buttons of the teen's shirt, ignoring the startled look on the pale face that never left him and his hand, while he gently pulled the arm that seemed to hurt out of the sleeve. Gently he touched the fragile upper arm, searching for broken bones, but there was none, only a bruise already forming where he had gripped the arm to keep Harry from falling, and he sighed.
"I apologize." He quietly said. "I should have been more careful when I gripped your arm. I did not want to hurt you."
"What?" Harry asked, looking up at him with eyes that were startling wide, green orbs blinking at him. "No!" The boy then shook his head, frantically. "No! 'ts not your fault! Its mine! I stumbled! I didn't mean to …"
"Why don't we get you into the shower, Harry, so we get this over with and then I can apply a bruise salve over your arm." He tiredly said, not having enough energy left right now to argue with the boy about who was at fault and who was not before he had the shower. A fact that frightened him actually. He had never allowed one of his abused students to blame himself for anything if it wasn't appropriate, never mind if it had to do with the abuse or anything else. And he always had fought teeth and nails until those children had understood that it had really not been their fault. That he felt too tired to do so right now – it frightened him, and he gave himself a figurative kick in his backside.
"And no, it is not – absolutely not – your fault, Mr. Snape!" He then growled. He would not allow Harry to take the blame for it so easily. "I did not intend to hurt you, but I could have been more careful. I just wanted to prevent you from falling. And no, it is not your fault either, that you stumbled in the first place. You are not the first one of us who started stumbling. And now shut up and go inside. Take your shower."
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
He had watched the boy closely, and he had listened closely, while Harry had been under the shower. Harry definitely had taken more time today than he had the days before, his movements slower and sluggish, and after he had slipped into his trousers again and had left the shower, he had leaned against the wall for a moment, his eyes closed.
"Come here, child." Severus said, taking Harry by his upper arm, gentler this time, careful to not hurt him again, and he led him to the stool he had been sitting on just a moment ago. "Are you just tired, Harry, or do you feel dizzy?" He then asked, trying to read the thin and drawn face. It was pale, the skin stretching over bones and the eyes holding dark circles that got larger and darker with each day that passed.
"Both." The boy sighed, his shoulders slumped and again his eyes closed.
Severus gritted his teeth and closed his eyes himself for a moment. He couldn't do anything, neither against Harry being tired, nor against the dizziness. He simply couldn't do anything. He could give him a nutrient potion, yes, and he could give him a relaxing potion as well, yes, but that was all he could do and it wouldn't be enough, and he knew that. The boy needed food and real sleep and sunlight. He needed fresh air, and he needed being out of here. He needed a warm bath. and he needed sitting in a classroom during a real, a regular class, not locked in one of the dungeon classrooms, trying to learn something out of the need to distract himself from fear and pain and weakness. He needed sitting in the great hall and he needed joking with his friends, with all the other students. He needed …
"Let me help you." He said, taking the teen's worn shirt from the hook where he had hung it up earlier and he slipped one arm into the sleeve, then the next arm, and finally he started buttoning the shirt. The boy finally seemed to come out of his daze, and he opened his eyes, straightened, and shaking his head he took over in buttoning his shirt before he slipped into his socks and shoes.
"I'm sorry." He finally whispered, his head down. "I didn't mean to be so …"
"Do not say it, Mr. Snape, except you wish to get into detention with me, writing a three feet essay about admitting to our weaknesses while we are down here. I thought we had been over this, two weeks ago already."
Harry said nothing about it, but he sighed in defeat. What could he have said? Snape wouldn't understand anyway. If his uncle would have found him like that, he would have found himself in more trouble than he would have been able to handle. Because it was his fault, never mind what Snape said, it just was his fault. He wasn't a small child anymore, he wasn't a toddler. He was fourteen and it was expected of him to be stronger than that.
And somehow he just couldn't understand the Potions Master's worry and gentle words. How could Snape even apologize? The man had kept him from crushing face first into the stony floor where he would have gained himself at least a bloody nose if not more. What about a few bruises? Snape had only tried to … Merlin! His father, for Merlin's sake! Severus Snape, his father, had only tried to keep him from falling and it wasn't the man's fault that he was so damn weak and that his limbs were nothing more than thin sticks!
And why couldn't he still think of Snape as his father? Hadn't he done anything possible to prove to him that he meant it? Hadn't he tried to help him wherever he could? Hadn't he done anything to comfort him? And hadn't he told him, reassured him, over and over again that he was his father? That he wouldn't abandon him? That he wouldn't send him back to the Dursleys? That he would take him to his manor and that he would …
His heart started racing from one moment to the other when he felt himself falling again, when he felt Snape's hand gripping his upper arm, again, but this time it didn't hurt as much as it had before.
What was it with him today?
Wasn't he able to put one foot in front of the other today without falling over them?
How pathetic! How weak! How stupid!
Again, the boy stumbled, but this time Severus was prepared, and he only tightened his grip on the child's upper arm, reached out with his other hand to steady him on his shoulder until Harry had regained his footing and without a comment he continued leading him into his office where he pushed him onto one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"Stay there." He said, his voice calmer than he actually felt. "I will be back momentarily." And with those words he went into his laboratory and got the bruise salve, the relaxing potion, and the nutrient potion. Of course, he was not upset about Harry's weakness, he was Severus Snape, and Severus Snape simply got not upset about one of his students getting weak, it was just as simple as that – yet, he was upset, and he knew it. First, it was not a simple student, it was one of his children! It was his son even! And second, he had notice how the teen had gotten weaker and weaker by the days that had passed! And third – well, third was simply third! And third was simply anything! The entire situation, the fact that this boy had wormed his way into his heart, the fact that Harry would die, the fact that …
Growling at himself he took the required potions and the salve and went back to his office.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
The salve had been applied to the bruise on Harry's upper arm quickly, and the boy had taken both potions, the relaxing potion, and the nutrient potion without a fuss, and then he had led him back into the classroom where he had gone to the mattresses immediately, and a moment later the teen had been asleep, had slept for another two hours, a sign of how tired and exhausted he was.
And right now, he was sitting tiredly at the table together with Neville, Blaise, Hermione, and Gregory and Vincent while the others were having a late afternoon nap.
They all did, sleeping for an hour during the day, some for two, and mostly they did so between about two and three or four in the afternoon. After that they were awake until about eight or nine in the evening and then slept through the night until the next morning.
It was hard to tell the correct time as here, in the dungeons, they had no windows and they were unable to cast a simple tempus, but he could make a rough guess of the time at the candles they used, knowing that the candles he had stored in his classroom and office burned for twelve hours each.
So, as soon as he had noticed how important it was to the children to have at least a small sense of the time, he had started judging time that way, he had made sure that he had the first candle started at roughly nine in the morning. Twelve hours and one candle later, it had been nine in the evening, just before they went to bed so the next candle would burn throughout the night, and they wouldn't wake in utter darkness. The next candle he had lightened had been at nine in the morning again and so on. So – yes, he was fairly sure that it was between about two and three or four in the afternoon they all took a nap normally.
He also had started to always have one unused candle near the one burning at his desk as a scale unit, and if the burning candle on his desk was burnt down halfway, then he knew that six hours had passed. Those candles on his desk he kept burning day and night. In the beginning they had five or six candles burning throughout the day, but he had soon started to only light two during the day, placing one at their 'common table', and one at his desk.
Again, his eyes wandered towards the table Harry and some of the other teenagers were sitting at. They all were sitting there tiredly, their arms laying on the table and Harry and Blaise had their heads laying upon their arms. They all were tired and even Neville, Gregory, and Vincent, who always had been rather strong, were barely more than walking sticks now. All their faces were pale, and they all had no energy left – but the weak breathing his son displayed worried him greatly.
He had heard the boy's lungs wheezing again after he had stumbled before the shower. He had heard his lungs wheezing during the shower and he had heard his lungs wheezing during their way to his office. He had even heard his lungs wheezing while the teen had slept afterwards. And still he could see the heavy rise and fall of the boy's shoulders, and he knew that he had trouble breathing.
He knew that Harry had those troubles breathing from time to time since the potion that had exploded twelve days ago, and he knew that perhaps the boy's troubles with his eyes were from that too, but he still didn't know what he could do about it. He had given him the healing potion that had taken care of his lungs for three days, longer than necessary, and he had applied drops of the potion that had taken care of his eyes for nearly a week, again, longer than it would have been necessary – just to be sure. But still … the boy's eyes seemed to get worse just as did his lungs and just as did his entire condition in general.
"What do you think he's doing today?" Neville asked after some time of silence, and they all knew who he meant.
"Dunno." Harry replied, taking a small sip of the water he had in front of him. He hadn't gotten ill again upon drinking, but that most likely was, because he had done as Severus had told him three days before and took very, very small sips of the water. "Mione?"
"Well, I think he's in the library doing research." The girl mused. "He's trying to find a spell or something that keeps him from dying after he hadn't gotten his hands on the philosopher's stone during our first year."
"Figures." Gregory said. "I thought that you'd pick a library."
"But …" Vincent urged, looking questioningly at Hermione, urging her to continue.
"But what?" The girl asked and even he, Severus, couldn't help rolling his eyes.
"There has to be a but, Hermione." Vincent shook his head. "Otherwise, it can't be a story."
"Well." The girl sighed, and he could see that she would rather like to sleep instead of sitting here and he wondered why she didn't do just that. "Well, I guess the spell he'd found backfired at himself."
"Wouldn't be the first time, after all." Harry murmured, more into his arms than towards the others. "He didn't pay too much attention during school, I guess."
"Maybe." Blaise said, looking thoughtfully before turning towards Hermione. "So, what then?" He asked the girl to continue. "What happened then?"
"Well, I guess he used a spell that would keep his mind alive as I guess no one can keep a body alive if it dies." The girl answered, not knowing how close she was to the truth. "And as the spell backfired, his mind has now left his body."
"And where is it now?" Gregory asked, furrowing his brows.
"In a stuffed teddy bear." Harry mumbled with a grin on his face. "In a pink teddy bear, one with yellow ears and a yellow bobble."
"Oww! The poor kid whose teddy bear that is." Blaise grimaced and the Potions Master couldn't help shaking his head at their stupid ideas.
"Oh, I'm sure it won't be so bad." Vincent mused, his face a mask of concentration. "Just imagine, the baby drooling all over him, and then grabbing his ear while hitting him at the bars of his crib."
"Or trying to feed him and smearing baby food all over his face." Gregory smiled.
"I knew you'd chose something related to food." Hermione smirked, getting the boy back for his library-comment a few minutes before.
"Yes, if we just got an idea that worked." Blaise sighed and Harry nodded at him.
"We'll think of something." The boy murmured, closing his eyes for a few moments before forcing himself upright, and never mind what exactly it was the boy had on his mind – he didn't really like the look on his son's face.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
To be continued
Next time in "twenty-one days"
the bear and the rabbit
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 on ff, I'll install the house cup – with each review, please state your house, so that your house can get a point. There won't be loss of points, only gains … may the best house with the most reviews win …
House Cup:
At the present time it looks like this:
Slytherin 81
Gryffindor 39
Ravenclaw 27
Hufflepuff 13
Hogwarts 21
Durmstrang 03
