Title:
A few days more
Sequel to:
Twenty-one days
Author:
evil minded
Date:
November, 22nd 2010
Timeframe:
Fourth year at Hogwarts
Summary:
"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.
The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindor have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace.
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 …
But Hereweald Hrothgar does …
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 A few days more
He was sure that Harry would have whispered another "sorry" if he hadn't led the boy's hands with the glass to his mouth, gently dipping the bottom of the glass a bit while at the same time placing one hand behind the boy's head to steady him, to give him a sense of safety while drinking.
Well, it came later, the "sorry" after the coughing fit, of course.
Of course, the child would choke on the juice upon being scared and unsure, upon being weak, and surely in pain, too, meanwhile, and quickly he placed the glass at the nightstand. Surely he couldn't pat the boy's back, but he at least could prop him up and steady him.
"Easy, child." He softly said while he pulled his son closer until he leaned with his chest against him and carefully he ran his free hand over the boy's neck and shoulder, trying to give at least comfort until the fit was over. "Try to breathe slower ... slower, Harry ... that's it ... well done, son ..."
"'m sorry ..." The boy murmured, nearly sobbed, and yes, of course there had been another apology.
And he knew that he wouldn't hear anything else from the child for some time, for a time much too long for his liking, but he would deal with it, he would deal with it like he had dealt with anything else, and he would get Harry back to where they had been before this needless and cruel abuse. He knew that it would take him a long time, but he would manage.
"It vos a long day?" Victor had asked during dinner when he had run his hand over his face for a moment, and he had leaned back in his chair, nodding at the boy.
"Yes." He had answered. "And they seem to get longer."
But he would manage.
A few days more
Chapter twenty-two
And here the inevitable comes
Quickly he stepped aside the moment he saw Snape hurrying through the corridor, even though he knew that the Potions Master would never hurt him, but the man's face was – he'd never before seen the man's face so dark and worried, and he knew, his former head of house was short from exploding. And he better was far away, and more importantly, out of the way, the moment that happened. He'd seen the Potions Master exploding before, while having a less dark face than he was wearing right now.
Looking after the man after he'd passed him he took a deep breath and then turned, hurried towards the Slytherin common room. It wasn't curfew yet, but he better was where he belonged to tonight, because the man's face didn't bode well, absolutely not, and if he had learned anything about his former head of house, then it was that Severus Snape exploded seldom – but if he did, then it was a near catastrophe and everything – as well as everyone – near him got drawn in the tide.
Said man, Severus Snape, had a clear destiny, namely the potions classroom. But not the new potions classroom where they were holding lessons now, for several weeks. No, he was heading for the old potions classroom, knowing that he would find one of his children in there, his son, to be exact, Harry.
The boy had fled the table this morning after he'd told the children that all of the classes would be cancelled and held by him instead, so that they wouldn't have to deal with teachers who would either right out abuse them, or teachers they were uncomfortable with, that would disregard their needs, and at first he had been worried to no end while searching the dungeons. The boy was anything than healthy, the fever having risen again during the nights, and of course, it was no wonder that it had risen again, seeing the new stress and damage done to the child.
He'd taken a deep breath after he'd had Fenrir paying, and then he'd tried to control himself as good as possible before he'd been back with Harry, trying to control his anger which still had burned deeply, so that he wouldn't startle and scare the child, his son.
His son.
Merlin, and his son had been suffering so much already, and now this. Again, the child had been subjected to brutal cruelty because of the hate of one person towards a parent of him.
Opening the door to the old potions classroom he didn't even stop to have a look around but immediately went through the room and towards the door that led to his office, the place where he had found the boy sitting on the floor more than once during their twenty-one days, and he heaved a sigh of relief the moment he stepped through the door, seeing the boy sitting in the corner of the room – before he silently cursed.
This bloody child would give him a heart failure before he was even old enough to stop teaching!
Forcing his emotions behind his mind shields he slowed his steps and slowly walked towards the nearly hysterically sobbing child and crouched down in front of – his son.
The boy had his head buried in his arms, the skinny legs cradled to his chest, and it was impossible to understand the soft murmur he was giving away – and anyway he knew exactly what the child was murmuring over and over again, knew that Harry was apologizing over and over again in the hope that he wouldn't punish him if he just apologized long enough, while at the same time the child had long ago learned that – never mind how often he apologized, it would never be enough, he would be punished anyway.
"Harry." He softly said, reaching out to touch the bony shoulder, already knowing the reaction he would receive, but he also knew that he just had to do anything to get the child out of it – and as he had known:
"'m sorry sir, 'm so sorry ... won't do it 'gain, promise ... please don' be mad at me ... please don' send me 'way, 'm sorry, 'm just sorry ..." The child mumbled between his shuddering sobs and there was no 'dad', no 'Severus', not even a 'father' – but a sir, again, and Severus felt his heart ache in pain – after all this time, his son still feared he would be sent away if he made a mistake.
Not that the child had made a mistake in the first place, no – Harry had not, but the boy thought he had, and he thought he'd be sent away because of it.
"Calm down, child." He said, pulling the boy from the corner and leading him to one of the armchairs he had conjured just a few days ago. He put the child into the soft furniture before he pulled another armchair close and sat down opposite Harry, not once releasing his son's wrist, not once breaking eye contact. "There's no reason to fear anything, Harry." He said, summoning a blanket and covering the bony form. "And least punishment from my side. First, there is no reason for punishment, as you have done nothing wrong, and second I would never hand out any punishment that would cause you any kind of harm. What has you startled so, child?"
But well, if had he hoped that he would get an answer from the boy, then he had definitely thought wrong, because there was none – except of another ...
"I'm sorry, sir ... "
"You have done nothing that would require an apology, Harry." He said, trying to sound strict but not harsh – something he had gotten some practice at during the past few weeks. "You have fled the table because you have been clearly startled, even an idiot could have seen that, and surely you won't imply that I might be an idiot!"
There were large eyes watching him while Harry quickly shook his head – but well, he had achieved what he had wanted to achieve, the boy was out of his panic attack.
"Good." He growled, satisfied while at the same time pulling the child close a bit until his son's forehead rested on his chest. "Because if you had, then I would have been forced to hand out detention, having you spending time with me in our nice, new potions laboratory down in the lower dungeons. And now tell me, Harry, what had you startled so much that you felt the need to flee the table? And our quarters."
"I am trying not to." The boy hiccupped and he wondered what he wanted to say, what was he trying not to? It hadn't been what he had asked for. "Always being so startled, really, but then it's like something gets triggered in my mind, and I can't help it." The boy hid his head in Severus' robes, and he could feel his son's body relaxing. "I'm really sorry ... I know ... I know that I'm fourteen, but when these things just happen, it makes me feeling like a sniveling first year."
Tightening his hold around the boy he took a deep breath when the child relaxed even more, nearly slipping off his own armchair to sit on his, Severus' lap and he simply pulled the boy over onto his armchair, thinking.
So far he'd been avoiding the subject of counselling, but perhaps Harry would benefit more from it than Severus realized. The boy was clearly scared and startled too often, and even though it was clear that the subject about history of magic that had been taught by a madman like Fenrir who had abused the boy, who had cursed the child badly, who had caused new damage while destroying nerves, even though it was clear that a subject like that would startle and scare the child, especially as the experience was so fresh on the child's mind, he didn't like it one bit.
So – yes, perhaps it was really time to think about such a thing as counselling.
"There is no need to apologize for a reaction like that, Harry." He said, his mind running a mile per minute while trying to find a way so that he would make it clear to the child that he was allowed to be scared. "Don't you think that you have been through enough in your life to show reactions like that? Have you ever ridiculed Theodore because of one or another scared reaction he shows?"
"What – but ... no!" The boy immediately gasped, shocked, green eyes wide on him as if he couldn't fathom his question at all.
"So, Theodore is allowed showing fear, but you are not, even though you've been through worse than he?" He asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice, knowing that it was that sarcasm that would allow the boy to think about it, to really believe it.
"I ... I don't ... I don't know ..." The child answered, slumping his shoulders and averting his eyes.
"I am sure that you do know the answer very well, Harry." He huffed. "You're just not ready to give it."
"But ... but that's different." The child desperately said.
"Is it now?" He asked back, lifting his eyebrow. "Just as it had been different, the others being hungry? As it had been different, the others being tired? As it had been different back then, while we've been locked down here?"
There wasn't an answer, but he hadn't expected one anyway. He knew that Harry knew exactly what he meant. The boy knew him well enough by now, and he knew the boy enough by now, too.
"You won't use the crucio in defense, will you, sir?" The boy then asked, startling him with the question, and he frowned down at the child, not really understanding.
"Of course, I will not! Not only do I not wish to inflict harm or pain upon any of you, but also is the crucio one of the three unforgivables – and so no, of course I won't use it, Harry." He said, sure what line of thinking the child was clinging to, if there was one thing he had learned about this particular child, then it was that there was never a question the boy asked without a reason – and he knew this particular reason. "I will not continue where Creighton left, not only because I would end up in Azkaban, using it, like he does, but also because I don't want to cause pain. I wouldn't use it anyway. I would never do anything that would harm you, child, any of you. Why would you ask this in connection with the defence lesson instead of history?"
"It's not important." The boy shrugged it off, and he scowled down at the little imp.
"Harry!" He growled, demandingly, ignoring the startled look he got for his strict tone. As if the boy didn't know that he was a strict teacher – and parent – by now.
"It's just ... well, it's just that professor Moody said that there's only one unforgivable left now as I can throw off the avada and now the imperious too, and when you said that ... that you'd overtake defense ... see, I just thought that you'd test ..."
"You ..." He couldn't help gasping at the child's line of thinking, horrified at alone the boy's thoughts, while at the other hand he could so very well understand his line of thinking – with all the abuse the child had been forced to live with for years, of course he'd take it for normal if he were hurt in class. "Run that by me again, Harry, I believe I am missing something." He then added, sharply.
"Well I ... I didn't die when uncle Voldie tried the avada on me, back then, when I was little, and now I can break out of the imperious, too." The boy softly answered, clearly unsure and scared. "And Moody said he'd have to test ... well ... Neville told me, last year, that his parents are in St. Mungos because of that curse. That's the reason he lives with his grandma."
"Who used the imperious curse on you?" Snape growled catching Harry off guard.
"Professor Moody, in class." The boy said and he took a deep breath.
"Moody used an unforgivable on you?" He couldn't help asking, shocked, even though it was hard to shock him at all. "He's been casting unforgivables on students? Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Snape growled out angrily, getting to his feet and pulling the boy with him, holding him at both his upper arms and looking him over, even drawing his wand and casting a diagnostic, not caring the startled flinch when he waved his wand at the boy.
"I ... I'm sorry ... I ..."
"I know." He growled. "Calm down, I won't hurt you. I've just cast a diagnostic. Merlin! Child! Do you not realize that Moody has done a crime that will see him in Azkaban? These spells are banned and declared as unforgivables and with a reason so, Harry, and he could have seriously hurt you! And none of these imbeciles have told me, either!"
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
It was not even an hour later that he burst into Albus' office, not even minding with knocking at the old man's door.
He had brought Harry back to their quarters, and he had made sure that the boy had lain down at one of the sofas. He had then had them all starting a game, making sure that the boy was well cared for and distracted, before he left them with the promise that he'd be back an hour later.
Flashback
"Care to explain to me as to why no one has told me about Moody using unforgivables on students during defense lessons?" He growled while entering their quarters, not even bothering with any kind of explanation. "And don't deny it, don't question my intelligence – nor yours."
There was silence for several moments and he already took a deep breath to give those bloody imbeciles a piece of his mind – when Neville, Neville of all people, stood from the chair he'd been sitting at.
"I'm sorry, sir." The boy softly said, but looking at him and alone that fact calmed him immensely.
Neville was one of those students that had feared him until this school year – had feared him to a point where he'd been trembling upon his approach alone – and that he now dared not only standing in front of him despite his clear anger, but looking at him also instead of averting his eyes, it meant a lot to him. Even though the boy used a 'sir' instead of 'Severus' as he would do under different circumstances, he started seeing a pattern with not only Harry but several other children, too – especially the former Gryffindors.
"It was me who suggested that we not tell you about Professor Moody." The boy said after having taken a deep breath. "You've had so much on your hands, with Harry, and with our lessons, and with keeping us alive, and getting us back to health, and I'm sure that it wasn't easy. And now what happened with Professor Creighton and Harry ... it's not that we didn't trust you, I just ... Professor Moody was one thing we could deal with on our own, Harry needed you more than we did, and before you'd end up ... well, we've just had to set priorities, sir, and that we did."
"Are you implying that you feared I might – suffer from a breakdown, boy?" He asked, growled, glaring at the idiot child in front of him while at the same time tightening the grip he had on Harry's upper arm the moment his son flinched away at his sharp use of the word 'boy'.
"No, professor." Ronald stood, too, taking a step towards him and Neville. "We just know that you're human too, like we, and that you are not indestructible. We've had to make a decision and we've made the one that was the most logical to us, namely, to give you some space to care for Harry."
"So you didn't think that this would be important?" He asked after having taken a deep breath to calm his anger at those bloody imbeciles that had been Minerva's students once, wondering if the woman had never taught them that they could rely on a caring head of house. "So, you didn't think that I would like to know about such a thing as a teacher at this school hurting not only my son, but my students generally?"
"We did, sir." Cameron said, coming over, too, and he lifted his eyebrow in curiosity. "And we would have informed you – but not while we didn't know if Harry would survive, and not while we didn't know how badly he was hurt and how much he needed you at that precise moment. You have come in, carrying Harry in your arms, sir, wrapped in your cloak and for us, it looked as if Harry was dead. What do you think we have thought? In our opinion that was more important than Moody."
And it was.
He knew that the children were correct of course, that they had not thought he was weak, that they had not handled on their own because of disrespect, or because of distrust. No, they had just seen him coming in, carrying Harry who'd been unconcious, who'd been injured, and he knew that they might have been scared enough to not thinking about Moody or how important it was to inform him about this, too, yet.
"My apology." He said after taking a deep breath. "You are correct of course, and I apologize – not only for neglecting to provide you with more reassurances on Friday, but also for acting out my anger on you today. That was not only unjust, but uncalled for, too. Please allow me an hour so that I can visit the headmaster, I will be back as soon as possible and then we will talk. And do not worry, I won't punish you, we will just talk. Please make sure that all of you are occupied with a game. Lay on the sofa for playing, Harry, you need rest."
End flashback
"Severus?" Albus asked, calmly, despite his forceful entrance, motioning for him to take one of the seats across the desk. He did not sit however – he never did when he was angry, needing this freedom to move.
"Don't try that on me Albus." He growled at the old man. "You know fully well why I have come up here to speak to you. You aren't a fool, so don't act like one." Really! He liked Albus, one of the few people he actually did like – and a lot so – but sometimes he'd also like to wring that old man's neck – alright, again scratch that … most of the times he'd like to wring that old man's neck.
"I have already agreed on you teaching your house alone, Severus." Albus answered, frowning at him, and he took another deep breath to calm his anger. Could it really be that Albus didn't know about Moody using unforgivables at his school? There was barely anything happening within this school that man didn't know. And an unforgivable – as the headmaster he must have felt the wards reacting to that curse being used within Hogwarts' halls.
"Well, I fear that – never mind my teaching of my house – you will need to hire a new defense teacher anyway, Albus." He huffed at the man. Really! Sometimes Albus grated more on his nerves than even the first year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors together.
"I know that Alastor and you are not getting along, Severus, but with having Igor Karkaroff at Hogwarts for this year, I really need an auror here, even though he's just an ex-auror, because I can't call one to school officially or I would have several wizards from the international department of ..."
"I suggest you do just that, and call an auror officially to arrest Moody, Albus, because he's used unforgivables on students." He growled back at the headmaster.
"He ... Severus?" Albus asked, looking at him unsurely and for the first time since he knew that man, he could see that Albus, too, never mind how great of a wizard he was, was human only.
"Moody has used the imperious on Harry." He growled, darkly but calmer than he'd been before. "During class! And if I got this correct, then not only had he attacked all of them with several spells despite Poppy telling him in clear terms that no magic is to be used on the children until further notice, but also had he made them standing in corners, in clear Death Eater manner – and you know what that means, Albus, forcing spells upon them that punished any lowering of their arms, and not only for ten minutes but for an entire double lesson. He has also threatened to use the crucio on Harry, too – apparently wanting to test the child about his resilience concerning all three unforgivables seeing that he's survived the avada and apparently can throw off the imperious."
"These are serious accusations, Severus." Albus said and he scowled at the older wizard.
"I have seen enough in Cameron's mind, even though I have not used legilimency consciously." He huffed at the headmaster. "The boy's mind has been as open as a book and he's allowed me in without any fuss."
"I will talk with Minerva and then we will question Alastor together." Albus said, and he lifted his eyebrow at the man. He hadn't thought that the old man would give in so soon. "I ask you however to not interfere before I can be sure that your accusations are true."
"As if he would admit to what he's done." He huffed at the headmaster.
"Do you really think that I have no means to learn of the truth, Severus?" Albus asked and he sighed, knowing that the older wizard was correct of course. Albus did have more means than he, Severus, was aware of. He was sure of that.
"What will you do the moment you learn of my accusations being true?" He asked, his eyes narrowed at the headmaster.
"I won't promise you to call for the aurors, that depends on Alastor's answers and his motivations." Albus said and he took a deep breath to calm his newly growing anger. He should have known that Albus wouldn't do anything against Alastor. "Alastor is a very old friend of most of the order members and he's done great things for the order during the past war against Tom. I cannot forget that, Severus, but he will of course leave the school if what you say is correct."
"Then you can look for a new defense teacher already, because what I say is correct." He growled angrily. "I hope you will question that man as soon as possible, preferably right now."
"I would like to." The headmaster said and he knew – it wouldn't be today, nor tomorrow. "Tonight, the goblet will choose the champions, Severus, and I would like having this out of the way and done before I take any other matters in hands. And there is another thing I need to talk to you about, Severus, Sirius has asked to visit Harry."
"Absolutely no, Albus." He growled at the man.
"Severus, please ..."
"Last time that idiot has met with my son it took me hours to calm the child after he's not only threatened to take him away from me, but has also abducted him and pointed his wand at me, his father, with the threat of attack." He growled, leaning with his hands on the tabletop. "And now you expect me allowing this man close to my son anytime soon again? Surely not!"
"Severus ..."
"No, Albus, and this is final!"
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
"No!" He growled, wondering why in Merlin's name he had to use this particular word as often as he had today – first Albus, and now his son.
"Please, I'll be ..."
"Don't tell me that you'll be alright, Harry, because you won't – I can see it in your face that you'd rather stay here than going to the great hall and actually I can understand your wish."
"But that's not fair to the others!" The boy insisted and he took a deep breath while watching his son. He could see that the child was pulling up all his bravery and strength to argue with him, the small form trembling with fear, and the thin arms were halfway raised in preparation to go up and in front of his face for protection.
"I do realize that you might feel that way, but they have agreed to stay here with you without – as none of them would be chosen anyway, seeing that none of them is of age yet – and so there's no need for you to make a fuss over it either."
"But they're just ... it's just not fair and ... don't you see, dad?" The boy said, desperately, and he could feel his 'no' crumbling to pieces at the bloody word the boy used. He knew why this damn word, dad, was the worst word anyone could have come up with in any human language! There was a reason as to why he disliked that particular word as much as he did! "It's not fair that they have to do without one thing or another and always because of me! I'm sure that they'd like to go and watch, and now they cannot because of me! Always because of me and ... dad! I hate it! I ..."
"Alright." He said, sighing heavily. "Alright. But under several conditions only. One is that we will leave the great hall without any fuss the moment I say so, the second is that you won't get excited. I expect you to stay calm throughout the ceremony, never mind who's chosen on the Hogwarts side. And the third is that you wear warm clothes and take a pain reliever as well as a calming potion beforehand."
"Ok." The boy immediately said, obediently, and he sighed. So much to the boy finally going against him.
It had not been for his own sake but for the sake of the others that he had pleaded with him about the ceremony, and the moment he had acted – not unfair – the boy was back to doing whatever he expected of him and without a word of contradiction.
Taking the announced potions from the small cabinet he had in the corner of the dining area, he placed two vials at the table and again, Harry took them without fuss, without even grimacing at the taste. Well, it was half an hour until the ceremony started, enough time for the potions to not only taking hold, but for the child to calm down and get comfortable, too.
He would have the boy wearing a cardigan over his hoodie, even though it was not cold inside the castle.
Harry had gained weight during the past two weeks – a little bit of weight – but considering the skeletal look the child had presented at the end of their imprisonment, it was not too hard and honestly, he was nowhere near satisfied with the child's weight – or health – generally, as he was still a skeleton.
But very well – so they would go and watch the ceremony.
Nothing he was too happy about. Neither about the competition itself, nor about them partaking in the ceremony of the choosing, but well, he couldn't change it. The only thing he could do was making sure that the students would visit classes and learn, competition or not.
He'd had two of the Durmstrang boys in potions twice now, even though Karkaroff had them not partaking in potions at their own school. The girls from Beauxbatons got their lessons by Madam Maxime only, but of course Karkaroff would be too – lazy – to teach his students himself, they were partaking in Hogwarts lessons.
Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine
He hadn't been looking forwards to the ceremony in the great hall – and neither was he really happy about being here now.
Not only that he couldn't help feeling scared – even though he hated himself for being such a coward – but also ... he was tiered. He was tired and his nerves and muscles – well, they didn't hurt, seeing that his dad had given him the pain reliever, but it felt – it felt strange, everything felt tight and if he'd had sore muscle, and it was anything than a pleasant feeling. So, he would prefer staying in the safety, and in the calmness of their quarters.
He didn't need his room, he knew that, but in their private common room down in the dungeons, together with the others, he would prefer being there instead of sitting here in the great hall. There were too many people here for his liking, very much too many people.
All the house tables were filled to the brim with not only the Hogwarts students but their guest students, too, and all the teachers were present, including Madam Maxime and Professor Karkaroff. It was like at the welcoming feast each year, just a bit more crowded than that even, like with this year when the other schools arrived. And then there were the people from the ministry. Fudge and one of his people, Crouch, and Bagman, a guy that was organizing sport things, a former Quidditch player if he'd gotten that correct.
However, never mind what, his father liked none of them.
"Fleur Delacour." The headmaster called out and with a huff he watched one of the girls to – glide towards Professor Dumbledore, because surely that girl was not walking. Well, yes – of course it did, walk, but it looked like gliding and so very girlish, he rolled his eyes before turning back to their table.
"Do not underestimate those girls, Harry." Severus said and he looked up at the man. "Madam Maxime is a very powerful headmistress and she demands anything of her students, those girls, even though looking as if made of sugar, they will be able rivalling even the Durmstrang students with their magic and power."
"That maay be, Professor." Victor said and he smiled. "Buut they lack our strength aand our endurance. As vell as our braveery."
"I agree with you on that." His dad nodded at the other student from Durmstrang, and Harry smiled again. He liked Victor, even though Karkaroff was using that boy as a flagship student, seeing that he was a seeker on the Bulgarian Quidditch team who'd played on the world cup this past summer.
This past summer, it was strange, this wording, this past summer, a wording that made him sad, because this past summer was just that, it was past, it was gone – and somehow he wondered if he would survive until the next one, it made everything so finally.
It wasn't that he was depressive. No – he was just realistic.
And he'd heard what that healer – he'd forgotten his name – had told his father about him, back on Saturday last week, at the end of this checkup namely should he survive ...
"Cederic Diggory." Came the headmaster's next announcement, and he jumped at the hall that exploded with applause and yelling students while a happy Cederic stood and went over to Professor Dumbledore.
He could see his dad taking a deep breath of relief beside him, and he knew, his father had feared that one of the Slytherins would be chosen by that goblet. He still wondered how the goblet did chose the students in the first place, if it just chose randomly a name from all the ones that had been thrown in last week, or if it actually knew who'd have a chance and then chose the one from each school that had the best chances.
"A Hufflepuff?" Ron asked, startled, looking questioningly at the others, but he just shrugged his shoulders.
"Why not a Hufflepuff?" Severus asked, lifting his eyebrow at Ron.
"'Cause they ... they ..."
"They're what, Ronald?" Severus asked, nearly sounding angry, at least sounding very strict. "Just because they have as big a heart as Harry here has doesn't mean that they are weak. You are starting anew with prejudices, Ronald, a dangerous thing, and I ask you to not going down that road. Hermione is intelligent even though she's been sorted in Gryffindor and not in Ravenclaw. Harry has a big heart even though he's sorted in Gryffindor and not in Hufflepuff. Draco is daring and always ready for a good fight, even though he's been sorted in Slytherin and not in Gryffindor. Neville, too, could have been a Hufflepuff just as much as he's a Gryffindor. Do not judge people by what you can see, Ronald, but give them a chance to prove themselves."
"Sorry, sir." Came Ron's voice just the moment the headmaster called out "Victor Krum."
For a moment their table was silent, and Victor looked at Severus who looked back at the other boy and then inclined his head.
"Good luck, boy." His father then said. "You better get up there and into the chamber behind the great hall."
A few moments later the hall was calm again and the headmaster turned towards all the students, while he silently agreed on his father's whispered words – "I had rather not Victor chosen by that bloody goblet but a different Durmstrang student", because he liked the other boy, as did Theo and Draco – and Hermione.
"Great desires will be fulfilled, great glory will be the prize for the one winning the competition, great honour for the last champion and a prize of one thousand galleons." The headmaster said. "Three students have now the chance to compete in friendship, to show ..."
And there the headmaster stopped – and looking over he could see that the man was watching the goblet of fire with a strange expression on his face while the goblet itself had started glowing again, and looking up at Severus, questioningly, he could see that the Potions Master had gotten off his seat, was standing, was watching the goblet with some kind of horror on his face – a fact that got him even more scared than he already was, because the Potions Master did fear nothing. A moment later –
"Harry Snape."
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The air in his lungs seemed to disappear altogether and left Harry feeling faint.
That was impossible.
He hadn't ...
But then again –
"Harry Snape!" More demanding, commanding, this time, and he could hear that Professor Dumbledore was angry, and with barely being able to take another breath he looked up at his father for a second time, unable to fathom what had just happened, while the Potions Master looked truly shocked and horrified, his face a pale mask, but he knew the man well enough meanwhile to know that this mask was – a mask, and nothing else, not a real expression that gave away what was beneath, what the man felt.
He was barely aware that he, too, stood up, shaking, and he was just about to follow the order and to go over to the headmaster, when Severus reached out and put his hand on his shoulder, a hand that he had learned to appreciate, even though he was scared enough to flinch away in the first moment. But then the hand steadied him, guided him through the hall and towards the headmaster who stood there, waiting, angrily, and he was glad that he didn't have to go up to the headmaster alone.
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Severus felt numb at the "Harry Snape" that came from Albus, the older wizard's voice ringing through the great hall and for a moment he froze. He had seen the goblet flaring a fourth time, and he had stood, had gotten up from the bench where he'd been sitting at beside Harry, narrowing his eyes, but never would he have thought that – Merlin! The boy that was right now trying to hide between Theodore and Draco was fourteen, for Merlin's sake! And this was too dangerous! How could he keep that boy out of harm's ways with such a task lingering over his head! People had died in that bloody competition and Harry was nowhere near healthy enough to partake in such a bloody thing to begin with!
"Harry Snape!" Albus' voice called out a second time and – wondering what the idiot child was doing – he watched the boy getting off the bench, unsurely, clearly scared out of his wits, and immediately he knew that Harry had not put his name into the goblet. Well, of course he knew that, because Harry had been with him all week-long! And Harry would never do such a foolish thing!
Where he would have accused the boy of just that, just a few weeks ago, there he knew now that no, that was not Harry's ways, nor his wishes.
His mind started running a mile per minute when he watched his son slowly getting off the bench, scared, looking up at him, in a daze, not knowing what was happening to him, scared, unsure and frightened, stopping for a moment, looking up at him as if asking for help, as if asking for his comfort, as if ...
Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder and accompanying him over to the headmaster, unable to let the boy taking these steps alone, he wondered who in Merlin's name might have put his son's name into the goblet, and why, and how he could get the child off the competition, knowing that he would stand no chance of surviving this bloody tournament – or how he could help him staying alive.
Merlin! What was he thinking? He'd never allow the boy to partake to begin with!
He watched Harry's thin fingers taking the parchment when Albus thrust it at the boy angrily, and he glowered back at the man just as angrily.
"That was uncalled for, Albus." He softly hissed.
"Have you put your name into the goblet?" The headmaster asked, ignoring him, and he watched the boy shaking his head, unable to give a verbal answer.
"Have you asked an older student to put your name into the goblet?" Albus asked and he growled, just the moment when the boy shook his head again.
"Of course he has not!" He said, tightening his hold on Harry when the boy flinched. "I suggest we discuss this later. I would like to get the boy home and to bed."
"Severus." Albus said and he narrowed his eyes at the headmaster – surely that man wouldn't ... "The goblet has chosen Harry."
"And I will not have him in this competition." He said, reassuringly squeezing the boy's shoulder.
"This is a magical binding contract that has taken place, Severus, and not even I or you can go against it." Albus said.
"And even if it were a magical contract with Merlin himself, Harry is underage and not only are underage students banned from the competition, but also am I his father and therefore clearly forbid his participation." He growled, turning and guiding Harry towards their table when he met an unseen barrier – and he knew, he couldn't go back with the boy, not before they had entered the chamber behind the great hall, the chamber where the other participants were waiting.
"Why you?" He softly asked while looking down, taking a deep breath. "Why always you? Why don't you get a little bit of peace, finally?" Of course, the boy that looked up at him, unsurely, scared, didn't have an answer to his question but he hadn't expected an answer anyway – it had been a rhetorical question anyway. "Alright." He then sighed. "Then let's go into this chamber, but do not worry, child, I won't allow you to actually participate."
"'m scared." He heard the boy softly murmuring just when they reached the door to the chamber, and he ran his free hand through the boy's hair that had grown as long as was his own hair.
"I know." He softly answered back. "But do not worry. You won't participate. We will find a way, Harry, like we always did."
"But what if not?" The boy asked and he could hear that he was short from actually crying in front of the other three students present in the chamber, and he got down on one knee in front of the child, not minding Diggory, not minding Krum and surely not minding Delacour.
"Be under no misconception that I won't have you going through this alone, Harry." He said, his voice as severe as possible, as severe as it had been back then, in the potions classroom. "Morality be dammed, Harry, I do not care about that, because I will get you through this competition alive, considering the fact that you are neither of age yet, nor have petitioned freely. We will figure something out, we always did, and you will survive this, do you hear?"
"What is theeze?" Maxime asked, coming towards them and he quickly stood, pulling the boy behind him before that bloody woman could startle the child more than he already was.
"Had I known the unfair conditions your school is working with, then I would have not come." Karkaroff growled and he huffed at the idiot. "Two champions for Hogwarts?"
"What has this child done!" Maxime shouted.
"This child has done nothing, you bloody, imbecilic woman!" He hissed back, his rage finding new heights while he was ready to draw his wand, keeping a safe hold at his son.
"Then 'ow 'as 'is name come into this goblet, Snape?" Maxim growled at him, and he glowered at the headmistress, not impressed, neither by her size nor by her growling.
"That is a question which I would like having answered just as well, Maxime." He growled back. "But be assured, I won't have that boy in this competition, seeing that he isn't even of age yet."
"He will have to partake." Albus said, softly, and he looked over at the headmaster who stood beside Fudge, Crouch and Bagman.
"I knew that there was one thing or another going to go wrong sooner or later, and Harry would find himself in danger again, as seems to happen every year – but this, this is ridiculous!" He said. "That boy has neither partaken freely, nor is he of age yet, Albus – he cannot partake, it would be cheating and surely the magically binding tract does recognize this little fact."
"I agree with Severus." Karkaroff said and he glowered at the idiot headmaster for a second. Of course, Karkaroff would agree with him.
"The boy's chosen he's to partake." Bagman said, a strange glint in his eyes, and he narrowed his own eyes at the man, knowing that the idiot would place one or another bet on the boy.
"Say you." He growled. "You can keep your money in your pockets, because I won't allow it!"
"Not even you can go against a magical contract, Snape." Fudge said.
"Barty?" Albus asked and he looked at the man.
He knew Crouch, an arrogant ministry official who'd been famous and who'd been admired for aggressively arresting Dark Wizards, even allowing his aurors the use of the unforgivables and imprisoning people – like Black – without a trial even. He'd fallen from grace however around 1982 after he'd sentenced his own son to Azkaban for being a Death Eater who'd taken part in the torture of the Longbottoms, of Neville's parents, the reason as to why that boy was living with his grandmother. He'd been then moved out of the public eye and to the department of international magical cooperation – where he had now organized this bloody tournament.
However – Crouch had changed again, since he'd last seen him shortly before the Quidditch World Cup, when they'd been meeting, the headmasters, the heads of houses, the minister and Crouch – and Bagman, the imbecile. The man had become worried, bent and – as if being loaded with a heavy weight.
Nevertheless Crouch's intelligence couldn't be challenged by anyone, he knew that.
"There is one possibility." Crouch said and he straightened, tightening the grip he had on Harry's shoulder.
"If Mr. Potter – Snape – is able to leave this chamber right now, then he is out of the competition, if he cannot, before closer information about the first task is given, then he has to partake."
"Very well." He said, leading the boy towards the door. He would make sure that – he would keep the boy out of – he would ...
A moment later there was another unseen barrier and closing his eyes he knew that never mind his wishes, he had lost, Harry would have to partake – because yes, not even he could go against a magically binding contract. The child, his son, as weak as he was, as newly injured as he was, as young as he was, the child had to partake in a deathly game even though it was not by his free will.
Would he be a bit more optimistic, then he'd think that perhaps the boy would be able to retreat from the several tasks the moment they were to start, but he was not an optimistic man, he was a pessimist, and always had been. That had been what had kept him alive for years and years back then during the last wizarding war, his pessimism, always expecting the worst, always preparing for the worst. But how was he to keep a child alive in all of this?
"Merlin, child, you will have me in my grave before I see a single grey hair even!" He sighed, pulling his son close and folding his arms around the small and shaking form – while at the same time Harry ducked his head in shame – or worry, he didn't know. Gently he lifted the boy's chin so that he had to look at him, just before the boy was to utter another one of his 'I'm sorrys'.
"Do not do that Harry." He calmly said. "This is not your fault and I do not blame you. I know you, and I know you'd never do something like this, especially as you hate attention so much. Do not punish yourself for something you had no hand in."
"Thanks, dad." The boy whispered and he squeezed the child's shoulder, knowing that the child was thanking him for believing him.
The room slowly emptied with congratulations to the other three participants, Maxime and her student leaving for their carriage that stood between Hagrid's hut and the lake, the woman being anything than happy, Karkaroff taking Victor to his ship, clearly angry and upset, and Diggory being led out and most likely to the great hall, by Pomona to partake in the feast.
"One thing I will put straight from the beginning, Albus." He growled at the headmaster, not even minding Crouch, Bagman and the minister hearing his words. "Never mind any morality, I will see my son through that tournament alive, and I do not care how often I will have to cheat for that, because I do not see any morality in a fourteen year old and ill child being chosen by that goblet just because someone else has put his name in. Harry has been through enough and I will make sure that he won't be harmed any more than he already is." And then he turned and led his son out of the chamber, too, led him back to their table and from there – picking up the others – to their common room, knowing that the boy surely would not wish to partake in the festivities that took place in the great hall.
He knew that he would have all hands full with keeping the child healthy, calm and able to sleep and eat regularly during the coming weeks and months, because if he had learned one thing about his son so far, then it was that stress was always making an impact on his sleeping patterns, on his eating habits, and on his nerves generally.
But he would manage, like he had always managed.
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To be continued
Next time in A few days more
the meeting in the forest
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, of course I have re-installed 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 98
Gryffindor 54
Ravenclaw 27
Hufflepuff 15
Hogwarts 21
Durmstrang 04
Tennessee Institute of Magic & Technomancy 01
