Title:
A few days more

Sequel to:
Twenty-one days

Author:
evil minded

Date:
November, 24th 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

"Dad!" The boy called out. "Are you trying to get me exploded?"
"Sure." He smirked. "Because shortly before that, we will put you on a roast and have a nice barbecue."
"Nice, then I'd like to have one of the thighs, I think they're best." Draco said, laughing, causing Harry to roll his eyes.
"May I have your fingers then, Harry?" Adrian asked, looking up at Harry with large eyes, and he nearly couldn't keep from laughing at the seriousness of that child – and the seriousness Harry answered with.
"Sure, Adrian, but I won't make good barbecue meat." The boy said. "Dad always says I'm too skinny."
"Regrettably that is correct." He huffed at his son. "If you were to be put on the roast, not even one of us would have a good meal. Don't look so shocked, Mr. Krum, we of course do not eat children, never mind what the papers say, it was a joke only."
"Uhm, jokes ... all the stone eaters are meeting in the forbidden forest – who's missing?"
"I should not have used the word joke." He said, sighing playfully. "Please remind me to not using that particular word in future."
"Dunno, the big blue stone eater of course?"
"No!" Harry smiled, even though he could see the tiredness and the exhaustion through the smile. "It's the small blue stone eater, he's still in the fridge."

A few days more
Chapter twenty-four
Time is like ...

"Dad?" The boy asked, unsurely looking at the corner where he was leading him into, unsurely looking at the piece of sports equipment he had recently added. He had changed the large underground room every so often now, and the boy had always been eager to try the new things there, rolling on the floor which he had covered with one large and thick mat completely meanwhile, like a carpet, balancing on the large beam, swinging on the ropes which hung from the ceiling now – even though he never managed holding himself on these ropes for long – or crawling through the large tube he'd installed along one wall just two days ago. Even climbing up the wall bars a bit the boy had been eager doing – but apparently the boy was unsure about what to do with this new device.

Not to mention that – he had already learned a new pattern.

Whenever Harry felt unsure about having done something wrong, then it was "sir", whenever the boy was discouraged, then it was a "professor" even, whenever the boy was surprised or annoyed, then it was "Severus" and whenever he felt unsure about new things or situations, about things he didn't know how to handle – as well as whenever the boy felt desperate – then it was "dad" – luckily it was a "dad" too, when he was happy, that caused him to feel some hope at least.

"Take off your shoes." He said the moment they had reached the device. "I want you to walk on it without your shoes." He calmly explained when the boy watched him unsurely and questioningly. "Outside in the gardens I won't have you walking without shoes as your ankles are too weak for my liking – one false step on the uneven paths or lawns and you could hurt your ankles, I won't risk that. On this strap you may walk safely, even without shoes, and so I want you walking with your feet bare."

"Why?" The boy asked and he could hear the unsureness in his son's voice still – and the hope that he might not take him as being insolent.

"Because you need to walk, and this is an ideal equipment where you can walk on for as long as you like, especially without shoes as it is even, and provides regular movement." He answered.

"But – if you want me to walk more, then I could walk in the garden." The boy said, and he would agree with Harry – under different conditions. "Wouldn't that be better even? In the sun and fresh air?"

"Of course, that would be better." He therefore agreed. "What is the reason as to why I have you walking out there, too, your feet need to feel the uneven ground, too – but I need you walking on safe ground for the time being as not only have I noticed that you always try staying close to a wall or similar so that you might get a hold whenever you feel unsure and the need to steady yourself, but also that you turn your feet inwards when walking a distance farther than from the mattresses to the table in the midst of the old potions classroom."

"But ... but I'll fall off this thing." The boy said, large eyed, desperately, and he nearly laughed.

"You surely won't fall off." He said.

"But ... but I can't run so fast ..." The boy tried again to argue, nearly scared meanwhile.

"You are not supposed to run, but to walk." He answered, frowning. "The speed of this equipment will automatically adapt to the speed you are walking with, and you are expected to walk as slowly as if you were walking through the garden. I promise that we won't have it going faster as you are able to walk."

"But ... but ... dad ..."

"Step on the device and take a hold at the handlebar beside you." He said, realizing that simply trying to get the boy comfortable with words won't work, but that the boy needed to see the safety of the device for himself by doing it and that he therefore needed to lead the child.

There was one more unsure – and clearly pleading – look Harry cast at him, but then the boy obeyed, like always, stepped on the equipment. And again he wondered how it was that he had never seen this particular child's readiness for obedience before.

Pushing these thoughts and the guilt he felt again, aside, knowing that they were only hindering here, he waved his hand and slowly the treadmill started moving.
Harry gave a gasp away but started – as supposed – to move his legs, slowly walking, nearly as if in slow motion – even though the boy cast a startled, questioning, pleading look at him, again.

"I am behind you, Harry." He softly said, again waving his hand and therefore carefully increasing the speed until it was a slow walk instead of moving in slow motion. "You won't fall off, even if you stopped walking now at all, the belt will stop, too, not to mention that I am behind you and I would catch you if you fell."

He waited a few moments until he could feel that Harry was a bit more comfortable on the walking device while he thought about the day, realizing that this was what he was doing with all these children lately, catching them, never mind if they fell, if they just stumbled, or if they just couldn't catch up – like Ginevra Weasley, Ronald's sister.

Flashback

Movement across the hall caught his attention and he watched Minerva walking over at their table with a very unsure looking Ginevra Weasley, having waited for the girl and then met her at the Gryffindor table, asking her to follow her and he hoped that Minerva would already have explained the situation to the youngest Weasley – but considering the clearly questioning expression on the girl's face, no – Minerva had not explained anything, and he sighed with annoyance.

"Minerva." He greeted the deputy and Gryffindor head of house the moment the two approached their table – accompanied by curious looks coming from the present student body, as few as were present seeing that it was Tuesday morning and most of them were either still in bed, trying to get as much moments of sleep as possible – clearly the male population in the castle – or trying to get awake beneath the shower – clearly the female population in the castle – and only a few students from each house being present.

The only house except of the Wolvenhowls that was nearly complete, was Slytherin, seeing that he had taught them better than skipping breakfast just because of fifteen minutes of prolonged sleep, and even though he wasn't the head of Slytherin anymore, but had a new house now, he was still proud of them – and of Hereweald.

His old friend seemed to lead his former house the way he had done, making sure that the children were actually behaving and staying healthy.

"As we've agreed upon yesterday evening, I bring you Miss Weasley, Severus." Minerva said, not really sounding happy but he knew meanwhile that it wasn't misgivings because he was "stealing" one of her students, but that it was rather unsureness about not only the girl and her well-being, but also about how Molly would react upon the news about her youngest daughter being sent to his, Severus', house.

"Professor?" The girl asked, looking up at Minerva questioningly. "Sir?" She then added, looking up at him when Minerva just patted her shoulder in a futile attempt of trying to give comfort, and he simply inclined his head towards Minerva before looking down at the girl, keeping his expression neutral as always.

"Take a seat, Ginevra." He said, extending his hand towards the bench at Emma's free side. "And partake in breakfast. You, too, please, Minerva, take a seat, and a cup of coffee and some toast. We will talk while you eat. There is no reason for you to abandon your own breakfast, Emma, please finish your porridge. And the same goes for you, Harry. Now, Ginevra, Professor McGonagall and I have decided that – despite your mother's wishes – you would do better in this small house than in Gryffindor where you are not only forgotten but also unseen. I expect you to take a glass of orange juice to your breakfast each morning together with your cup of hot chocolate. You are far behind your classmates, Ginevra, and even though I don't want you overly minding that, it is no long-term solution. You need the freedom to learn without frustration and without the constant negative factor of being behind, and this small house here allows you exactly that. You will have the possibility to learn at your own speed and in your own ways. Please take more than just a piece of toast, Ginevra, there are scrambled eggs and porridge with fruit, too."

End flashback

Well, alone seeing the girl's shocked face at his speech about learning without frustration and negative factors – it had been worth the onslaught of curses and hexes he would receive from the Weasley matriarch the moment Molly learned of this here. And alone Minerva's shocked face, too, but really, what had Minerva thought? That she would bring the girl over and then leave? Of course, he would ask her to partake in breakfast at their table, seeing that it would help Ginevra sttling in, if she realized that her old head of house, and her new head of house were getting along well, and were working together to get these children back to health. But otherwise, well, it hadn't been a problem as he had feared, the girl had just started eating, only once looking up at him with a soft "thank you" on her lips and that alone was proof enough for him that it had been the right decision.

Ginevra Weasley had always been a polite girl, even though she had the same loud and overbearing characteristics all Weasleys showed, suffering from the need to compete with six older brothers – not to mention Molly having handed it down to her daughter. Sometimes he really pitied Arthur, with not only a wife like Molly, as much as he liked the generally kind woman, but seven loud and boisterous children that surely drove him mad from time to time.

However, the girl was more silent, lately, slower – not only in learning but in her movements, too, and he had sometimes seen her just sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring holes into the air. A clear sign that the girl was neither well nor happy where she was, and he hoped that she would be able to integrate into their small house.

"I want you to put weight on your forefoot first and your heel second, Harry." He said, watching the boy close. "Like you do whenever you have a headache – and yes, I have noticed you walking very carefully then, what is proof for me that your headaches are as bad as you say – we are meant to land on our forefoot first while walking, and we just changed this with time while wearing shoes which incite us to wrong walking. Very good." He said when Harry did, even though he could see that the grip the child had on the handlebar did increase at first upon the unused walking style for a moment before the boy got adapted to it rather quickly.

"Now, release the handlebar, Harry." He softly said from behind the boy a few minutes later, already placing his hand between his son's shoulder blades, not to really steady him or to catch him as he knew – the boy surely wouldn't fall right now, but just to give Harry a sense of safety.

"Wha– no!" Came the immediate call, the boy not only increasing the hold he had on the handlebar, but also trying to turn around to look at him incredulously.

"Continue walking." He said. "I am behind you, and you won't fall off. Just release the handlebar. I want you to walk freely and without using the hold. You need to get more sureness when it comes to free walking."

"But I can walk freely." The boy said, his hand still on the bar.

"I know that you can." He reassured. "But not only do you always seek a wall close by while walking, but also do I see your hand going towards the wall more often than not. I know that you can walk freely, this particular learning process you have mastered already years ago after all – but you are tired and you are not healthy, and therefore your footing is unsure. And understandably so in your situation, but we have to work on that, or you will have troubles later on. You have been unsure your entire life, child, you don't need to be insecure for the remainder of your life, too. Just trust me and release the bar."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

He'd been – well, surely not scared!

He was a fourteen year old teenager, after all, and surely he was not scared of walking on a thingy people used in a gym. He could walk after all, like Severus had said, even though the man had expressed it – cooler. A few weeks ago, he would have said snarky and sarcastic, and he wouldn't have liked it, but now, well, somehow Severus' jokes actually were cool.

However, so – no, he hadn't been scared, he'd just been – something. He'd been unsure, because the ground so often seemed to move lately and then he slipped and stumbled, not to mention that he was always so tired, and in one thing the older wizard was definitely correct: he'd been hurt enough in his life and somehow, he didn't want to fall and break new bones again, not to mention that it only would be a new indication of his weakness.

But well, it had been ideal to get a new stone eater joke at his dad.

Flashback

Merlin, he felt so damn stupid, it was as if – as if he were a small baby.

Of course he liked it when his dad called him a 'foolish child', because no one had ever acknowledged him being a child, no one had ever … everyone had always expected things of him which had been far over his head, except of his real parents maybe, he couldn't be sure about that, because he didn't really remember them. But everyone else.

The headmaster and all the others expected him to be the savior of the wizarding world, to save them all from uncle Voldie and his Death Eaters – but he didn't even know how he could do that when all the adult wizards around him were scared of uncle Voldie and were unable getting him out of the way.

And Professor McGonagall had always expected him to do exceptionally well in classes because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, because he was the chosen one, never mind the little fact that he'd never even heard of the wizarding world before he had come to Hogwarts, never mind the little fact that he'd grown up in a household where the words magic or wizards or something like that were forbidden and got punished, and where he wasn't allowed to do his homework, even.

And then his friends, they always had expected him to lead them through several adventures, and safely so, they had expected that some of his fame would spread over at them, one had just to look at Ron to know that. And Sirius, too, had expected him to be brave and adventurous, saying that his father would be very proud of him because of all his adventures.

And even Hagrid had always expected to solve his problems, with Norbert, with Buckbeak and with some Blast-Ended Skrewts.

The only one who'd ever addressed him as a child, who'd ever allowed him being a child – was Snape, of all people. Snape allowed him to be scared, to be weak, and even to be silly, to make his jokes – and he even smiled about them. Surely the man wouldn't outright laugh at his jokes, because Severus Snape didn't laugh. Well, he'd seen the man laughing, and so he knew that Snape could, but Snape had also told them that, should this make public notice, then he'd kill them. In other words, he better forgot that the Potions Master had laughed out loud, even though he'd liked it each time it had happened, even though it hadn't been often.

But the man often smiled at them, at him, and he definitely smiled at his jokes and at his silliness generally. He accepted him as the child he was and even forbade things that could hurt him or that could be dangerous – no adventures, he'd said, and no going after uncle Voldie. Alright, Snape had not said uncle Voldie, he'd said the Dark Lord, but that was the same anyway.

However, so – yes, he was a child, and he was happy that Snape acknowledged him being a child, but he wasn't a baby!

And learning how to walk safely fell very much into this category!

So – no, he was definitely not scared, but – yes, he didn't feel too well about his constant fear of falling, either. Of course, he knew that falling wasn't too bad, he'd often fallen when he'd been smaller. But he didn't feel too comfortable about this thingy either, because on the ground he could sit down whenever he was tired, before he fell, but this thingy moved! How was he to simply sit down when his legs were tired now?

Taking a deep breath he released the handle of the thing while walking, already expecting to fall off the thing but nothing happened, he just walked on, the thing didn't run fast enough so that he'd fall off.

Not to mention that still his dad had his hand on his back, he could feel it, and it felt good, it felt secure.

For a moment he wondered how his childhood would have been, had he had a father who'd comforted him through different things, but then he gritted his teeth and shook the thoughts off – he was here, and he hadn't had a father like that, so it was a moot point anyway.

"There's a river and you want to get across, but it's known for its very vicious stone eaters who'd all changed their eating habits meanwhile – so, how do you get to the other side?" He asked, just to get his own mind off the stupid thoughts.

"I don't know how you'd get across that bloody river, but I know that you would have, indeed, had a far better life had you had the support of a father who stood by your side, something I would have been very happy to oblige, even though I fear, that I wouldn't have been able to adopt you then, but I know that you would not have the troubles you have now, that you would be much healthier than you are." His dad said and he smiled, already feeling better, because he knew that – yes, his life might have been better. "Now, how do you pass those vicious stone eaters in the river?"

"That's easy, dad." He playfully whined, nearly smiling at the older wizard lifting his eyebrow at him in his typical Snape-mannerism. "You swim, because all the stone eaters are at the meeting anyway, they can't eat you!"

End flashback

He didn't really know why he came up with all those stupid jokes, and he knew that they were stupid, too – but somehow he was able to lighten the mood with them, and somehow he was able to divert his father's attention away from his weakness. And he was able to give himself a bit of sureness too – at least that was what he thought it was.

It had been really funny when Victor had asked about them, because they all had told him joke over joke about the stone eater and Severus had looked as if he'd had a very severe toothache or something like that. Even though he was sure that inwardly the Potions Master had grinned, because his black eyes had looked not cold, but warm, and they had sparkled with mirth.

Strange, how he meanwhile knew the difference in Severus' several expressions while in the past he'd never seen anything than a mask.

Sighing he turned back towards the essay he was to write, about the misuse of the unforgivables – or rather the use of them as they were forbidden and as therefore they couldn't be misused as alone the use of them was already misuse. Somehow he was sure that his line of thinking held a mistake, but he didn't really care. He'd finish this essay, and then he'd lay down and sleep.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Leaving the dungeons and approaching the ground level with the main hall, the entrance hall and the great hall, he ran his hand over his face for a moment, tiredly. He'd rather be with his children right now, sitting with them in the parlour for some time before retiring to bed. But well, they had a teacher meeting once a month – and knowing that those bloody meetings were actually important, he attended, of course.

Trelawney never attended them, and he – as well as Minerva and other teachers – always got angry about it, because lack of knowledge what was happening at the school led to mistakes, not only in teaching but in handling one or another student, too.

He should have listened to Minerva and Poppy in the past during those bloody meetings.

He'd always attended them, never mind what, because he thought them important, but nevertheless he'd never listened to those two, or he would have found out about Harry being abused sooner. Poppy at least had mentioned one thing or another, while Minerva had at least been very unhappy about the boy's constant tiredness and being a skeleton.

But well, it was only fair that he had to deal with the child being two steps behind, now, again, while he, Severus had to be unbelievingly patient to not snap at the boy in any form for his constant apologizing and flinching away, or other signs of fear – and nothing else they were than signs of fear, Harry feared him.

And considering the child's latest encounter with Creighton alias Fenrir, it was no wonder that the child feared him, feared them all. He was sure that, regular lessons with another teacher, perhaps even Minerva or Hagrid, would be impossible. A near disaster had already been the talk about the mutt visiting.

Flashback

"I've had a conversation with Albus." He slowly started, leaning back in his armchair, preparing for the worst. But well, he's never been one beating around the bush, and so – "He has told – ordered me – to give your dogfather another chance."

Well, the reaction was better than he had thought it would be, the boy not screaming bloody murder and running for his life, but only going rigid and pale while looking over at him scared. Not a reaction he liked, but well, better than what he had feared.

"Breathe, Harry." He calmly said when the boy had clearly trouble doing so, getting off his armchair and approaching his son. "Just take a deep breath ... that's right ... and now release it slowly ... very good, again. Do not for one moment think that I would allow Black any kind of power over you, Harry, he can do absolutely nothing." He reassured. "He'll get one chance of seeing you, for dinner next week, here in our quarters and with my person being present, and with Miss Harvest being present, to watch the situation – that is all. Should he behave as poorly as he has done in the past then not only will he be thrown out, but he will also face constant banishment from these parts of the castle, set by our house elf."

"He'll always try to get me away from you." The boy whispered, his shoulders dropping, and it was clear, Harry knew what the bloody idiot dog wanted, he wasn't stupid enough to get lulled by his godfather – something he was very glad for.

"I know." He simply answered, truthfully. "One question anyway, Harry – do you know if you've been baptized by your parents?"

The boy looked over at him, questioningly for a moment, frowning with concentration, trying to remember anything his relatives might have mentioned one or another time as he was sure the boy didn't remember his earliest childhood, but then Harry shook his head in a clear way that wasn't a "no" but an "I don't know", and he inclined his head.

"Then we'll find an answer to that." He said. "I'll do a floo call to the ministry first thing tomorrow morning, and then we'll have an answer to that."

"Why?" The boy asked, calmer than he'd been moments before and he sat back into the chair he'd been sitting in before.

"Because a godfather has the responsibility of taking over when your parents cannot look after you anymore, whatever reason for that may be, death, illness or anything else. A godfather, however, is then appointed when a child gets baptized. Have you not been baptized, then Sirius Black – clearly appointed by your father as I know that your mother wasn't so fond of him – isn't your valid godfather in the first place what gives me the freedom to appoint a different godfather."

"That means – you'd have me baptized?" The boy asked and he lifted his eyebrow.

"Would you have any problems with that?" He asked back. Of course, he wouldn't force the boy, he knew well that a statement of faith should be done by free will or it wouldn't be valid anyway, but of course he would give the boy a little shove into the direction to begin with as he was sure that the Dursleys had never cared about any kind of religious education.

Flashback within flashback

"What do you believe in, sir?" Harry's small voice was heard, softly enough so he could have chosen to ignore it, but the question had sounded so desperate, somehow, he couldn't, and he regarded the child with a long and thoughtful look.

"Come here, Harry." He then said, feeling that this was very important for the boy, and he wanted to have him close by. The teen hesitated for a moment, looking at him unsurely, as if he didn't know if he were in trouble for asking that question or not, but he waved him over, and finally the boy scrambled forth from underneath the blanket and over to him. He still had one arm around Seamus' shoulder, and with his other he pulled Harry closer.

"This is a very difficult question and the answer to that is not easy." He started. "I definitely do believe in our Lord. And I do not mean the Dark Lord, but God. And I do believe in him, because I think that the way life functions, human beings, the way we are able to move our limbs, our body functions, our brains and our hearts, the way we feel, the way animals are living, plants, our planet – this all would not be possible in its entire fineness, if there were not a much more powerful force at work than what we can grasp with our limited understanding. But it is, life in its entire fineness does exist, and so – yes, I do believe in our Lord. I, however, do not believe in any kind of churches, because in the very beginning there had been no churches either. People had been praying without a church and people had been talking to our Lord without having a building they went into. I am sure that if there is someone like our Lord existent, then he surely will not mind if we are praying in a church or if we are praying at the toilet. I believe that he will be very satisfied if we talk to him wherever we are, as long as we do."

The boy was quiet for a while, looking thoughtfully, as did the other children and he wondered what was going through that child's mind.

"What do you believe in, Harry?" He then asked.

"I don't know." The boy then said, nearly whispered, averting his eyes. "I've never … I mean, no one ever talked to me about that. My aunt always said I'll rot in hell anyway."

"That is not true, child!" Severus seethed angrily, and the boy looked up at him, startled, as did some others. "That is not true." He repeated a bit calmer then. "You are a child, and our Lord surely will not have any child going to hell. What have you done, Harry, to deserve being punished like this? No, Harry!" He protested when the boy started to open his mouth and to say something, most probably some ridiculous notions his blasted relatives had been beating into him for years until he had believed them.

"You have done nothing that would warrant a stay in hell, child." He said, piercing the boy with his dark eyes before doing the same with the others. "Nor has any other one of you. 'And he arose from thence and cometh into the coasts of Judaea by the farther side of Jordan, and the people resort unto him again. And, as he was wont, he taught them again. And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them, and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God.'"

"You are versed in the bible?" Hermione asked startled.

"Of course, I am." He growled darkly. "My mother had taught me some things after all, you foolish child!"

At that, Harry beside him started giggling, and with a raised eyebrow he looked down at the child that leaned against him, knowing well what had caused that giggle, namely the words 'foolish child'. A moment later however he noticed that the giggles started to change into sobs and another moment later Severus felt Harry pulling him down to wrap his thin arms around his neck, silently crying as the realization of true freedom, of support, and caring, and relief sank in, and with a sad sigh he pulled the boy closer, wrapped his own arms around the horribly thin body of the child.

End flashback within flashback

He had not thought that the child would survive, back then, had been so sure that Harry would die soon, but Harry hadn't, and with each day that passed now, his chances of survival grew more and more, just a tiny, little bit, but they grew.

Of course, he knew that the child would never grow as tall as others would, and he knew that the child would always suffer from several disorders, but he would live and he would live as healthy as possible, he would make sure.

"No." The boy answered, an answer he was glad about. "I just don't know how to take it, what it means or – well, whatever."

"We'll talk about that at a later point." He said, relieved. "It will be your decision anyway."

"Will it be catholic or protestant?" The boy asked and he frowned. So, Harry knew that there were two big churches, that was a beginning, seeing that Petunia had kept the boy as a house elf for years, not even allowing him primary school, it meant that Harry had found other means to gain general knowledge.

"Neither." He answered. "With the baptism you only declare that you believe in Jesus Christ and that you seek to follow him. It will be a baptism in a free Church."

End flashback

Well, the boy had asked a lot of questions, had found a different subject that distracted him from Black, and so he'd been happy to answer them as good as possible – even though his answers had awoken new questions, and not only from Harry, but from others, too.

Later they had practiced a bit of occlumency and he'd been very happy about the progress the boy made with that.

Harry had soon chosen to visualize a forest with overgrown foliage as – some kind of barrier that would protect his mind from outside intrusion and he had only recently added hunting beasts similar to Diagon, that prowled the perimeter as further protection and now they had started to work on separating his thoughts into well-ordered compartments that were scattered throughout the forest, the real start of occlumency. He'd been very interested in seeing what the boy would be going to devise for that, and somehow he had been satisfied when he'd noticed that Harry had used trees, small caves, and a lake even.

He still wondered how it was that he could enter Harry's mind, that he could just like that step through the barriers the boy had erected. Neither of the plants was keeping him, nor were the animals attacking him, the hunting beasts just looked at him in a friendly manner. It was as if the child was giving him free access to his mind, unconditional and unlimited access.

He'd watched the boy at one point, had seen a small smile crossing the pale face, and upon taking a step closer he could see a snake slithering across the roots of a tree, a brown and small snake that might easily and comfortably fit onto Harry's outstretched palm. Well, he knew that the boy wasn't scared of snakes, seeing his reaction to his, Snape's, animagus form, but it was still strange anyway, a child being happy about snakes, and even wanting to have them in their imaginary world.

"You're late, Severus." Albus said the moment he entered the staff room.

"Don't fuss, Albus." Minerva scolded the headmaster, patting the chair beside her as if calling a small child over to sit beside her, and he lifted his eyebrow at her. "We've been waiting for you to start with the meeting anyway, you've missed nothing."

"Thank you." He said, straightening up to his full height – as Harry had so effectively noticed during the past two or three weeks, he did have a reputation to protect, after all – but then he went over to her to sit beside her anyway, knowing that the woman only meant good anyway.

"Well then, let's start with the meeting." Albus said, sighing.

"Severus." Minerva whispered, leaning over at him. "You look like you haven't slept in days. Why haven't you asked for help with the children, and with Harry especially?"

"He's my child." Severus whispered back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He didn't need help! "And I am perfectly capable of taking care of my own son."

"That's not what I'm implying, and you know it." Minerva shook her head. "This is not the time for stubbornness. Harry needs you at your full strength, and there is nothing wrong or shameful about having someone sit with Harry – or the other children – while you get some sleep. Must I visit you daily until you accept help?"

Holding his head high he huffed at the woman, his face dark. Merlin, this woman always managed to unbalance him enough so that he felt like a bloody student again.

"Well, you are a head of a house, having access to each and every part of the castle – and I will not key the wards of our quarters against you should you desire – tea." He then said, and that was as close of accepting help as Severus would ever allow. He didn't ask for help or rely on others, never! It was enough that Filius was already involved in this! "That will be as acceptable as possible, for a Gryffindor to invade our private quarters." He then glared at the woman.

"I believe that has already happened before, but I look forward to tea nonetheless." Minerva coughed to cover up her laughter, leaving him scowling. Damn! How could he have not foreseen cornering himself with that remark, and towards a Gryffindor no less? He really must be more sleep deprived as he had thought, if he allowed a Gryffindor of all people to outwit him!

"Severus, Minerva, please." Albus said and he frowned at the headmaster. "You're worse than the students. We're currently trying to find a substitution for Alastor, after all."

"You're what ...?" He couldn't help coughing, his eyes large on the headmaster.

"Had you paid attention to the meeting instead of chatting with Minerva, then you would have heard my explanation to that." Albus said, but he still couldn't help goggling at the older wizard. "Honestly, Severus, were it one of your students, then you already would have appointed detention and taken house points."

"I know your explanation, seeing that Moody has cursed one of my students with an unforgivable if you haven't forgotten that." He huffed at his old friend the moment he had himself back under control. "I just cannot believe that he has really admitted to that – nor that you would really question him about it, not to mention throwing him out of the castle. You cannot deny that you suffer from the tendency of allowing dangerous and criminal people at your school because you think they should get at least fifty more chances before you lose your patience with them, and often to the detriment of others."

"Oh, my dear Severus." Albus sighed and he huffed again, nearly shaking his head but lifting his eyebrow instead – that was much more dignified than shaking his head or rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes, you are right, of course, my dear boy, I am too soft, and I know it. But this time I really haven't had any other chance, because I've seen it when I entered his mind. There was something strange with his mind though, as if I had scanned the mind of a wrong person, but well, that's another story and I'll deal with it later. However, after I have seen him using an unforgivable on Harry, I haven't had another chance than having him leaving the castle. Harry has suffered enough, and I wouldn't have him suffering yet more, even if that meant that I had to hurt Alastor. I'll visit him later in the week, and then I'll care about his mind and why it was so strange. Maybe you could accompany me, my boy? You are far better in legilimency than I am."

"Of ..."

"He won't!" Filius huffed at the headmaster at the same time as ...

"Surely you'll find someone else, Albus!" Minerva turned towards Dumbledore, and ...

"No, he won't, Albus!" Poppy said and he looked over at first Filius, then Minerva, and finally Poppy, incredulously.

"And why ever not, woman?" He asked, nearly angrily. He'd never allowed anyone – except of two madmen, namely the Dark Lord and Albus – ruling over his life, and he wouldn't start doing so now.

"Because you have a house full of ill students which are still recovering – as you do." Poppy said, and even though he inwardly had to agree with her, he glared at the woman.

"That does not qualify you for ruling over my doings or not doings." He growled darkly.

"Actually, it does, Severus, as I'm working hand in hand with Adam Chandler." Poppy smirked at him, and he groaned. "And therefore, I know that Adam not only has appointed you to take free time – which you have not done so far – but that he also wouldn't approve of an action like using legilimency on a criminal. You need all your strength, and you need all your time for your house and yourself. So, you either refer from going with Albus – and take a rest for yourself instead – or I'll simply contact healer Chandler."

"Bloody woman!" He cursed under his breath, but inwardly he knew that Poppy was right of course, he couldn't deny that he was tired, after all, even though he would never admit it loudly.

"Of course, Poppy, and my apology, Severus." Albus said. "I should have thought about that, really. How are the children and you?"

"Well, yesterday we still stood at the abyss … today we're already a step further." He growled at the older wizard. For a moment there was silence in the room, and he looked up, questioningly for a moment, frowning at the looks he received. "What?" He asked.

"I begin to know where Harry has his silly sense of humor from." Minerva beside him said.

"I do not have a – silly sense of humor!" He growled – but again, he couldn't help feeling happy about his son being compared to him.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"Professor?" Came Victor's voice from behind him when he crossed the entrance hall on hid way back from the meeting, and turning he was just in time to see the boy getting up from the floor where he, apparently, had been waiting for him.

"I do know that your headmaster has not set curfew, Victor, but don't you think that it is a bit late for you, even though you're of age?" He asked when the boy came over and met him at the middle of the hall.

"Yes, professor." The boy answered, really sounding sorry – and rather nervous. "You are right aand you haf my apology – and I am really sorry to take your time away, but – I do haf a question."

"Time is like a companion that reminds us to live every moment as decent and as dignified as possible, Victor, because it won't come back to give us another chance." He said, extending his hand towards the dungeons, and he could see the boy releasing his breath with a relieved sigh, while he accompanied him to the Wolvenhowls' common room.

Victor could feel the wards washing over him, like last time, when he'd come here with that other boy, the older boy of the group, Cameron was his name. Back then he'd been able to feel the wards, too, strong wards, wards of a purity that was startling, but wards that allowed him through anyway, without a password as if they weren't present.

He'd heard what the Professor had said, last time, that the wards let anyone through while being invited and in company of one of the students living here, and so he knew that they were there of course, but it was strange anyway, passing wards without giving a password, or without placing his hand at a wall or door like at Durmstrang. It was also strange how they felt – but he liked it.

If only the Professor would not say no, but his chances for that were nearly nonexistent.

"What can I help you with, so that you were sitting on the floor in the entrance hall until late night, waiting for me, Mr. Krum?" The Professor asked and he tried to downplay his nervousness. He had already learned that students were in trouble if this particular Professor used the students' surnames. Not when it came to his own students, his own students seemed to be never in trouble, but the others.

Not that this was the reason as to why he – "My apology for that, Proofessor." He said, just to be on the safe side. Well, it was now or never, because he couldn't go back. "I knoow that it is a rather unusual question, but I ask you to admit me in your house."

Well, and now that it was out he would like to take his words back.

How could he have been so stupid!

Trying to read the man's expression in the hope to find out what the Professor was thinking, he nearly held his breath – but of course he couldn't read the man's expression, Professor Snape was as calm and as unreadable as always, not even looking angry. He knew that Professor Karkaroff would have had his hide for alone the question, for disloyalty and for treachery, for betraying not only his school but his headmaster also.

"May I ask as to why you seek – shelter in my house, Mr. Krum?" Professor Snape calmly asked, just the moment when he was about to turn, and he looked up, too startled to answer for a moment. He'd been so sure that the man would be angry at the worst or would ignore his question, waving it off at the best, not that the teacher would take it seriously.

"I – I do not want to study the dark arts, Proofessor." He calmly said. "I always vanted to becoome a potions master but my headmaster – at Durmstrang we cannot study what ve vant, but what our headmaster expects of us."

"When would these studies of the dark arts start, Mr. Krum?" The professor asked and again he was – amazed at how serious the other wizard took his question.

"My headmaster said this competition would be a good start for learning the dark arts." He honestly answered. "He also said, that I cannot tell because in this competition the dark arts were not allowed."

"That is correct." Professor Snape said. "What will your headmaster do the moment you admit to him that you would like to change not only houses but school – and I am sure that you know, this is the condition for entering a Hogwarts house, that you become a Hogwarts student."

"That would haf me out of the tournament?" He asked and he couldn't help sounding hopeful.

"I am sure you remember the fiasco with Harry." The Professor said and he nodded his head – yes, idiotic question, of course he did remember. "Then you also should know that never mind which school you are from, the tournament will have you partaking. You have entered a magically binding contract and as much as I would like seeing all students out of these – games – never mind which school they are from, I am unable to do anything, or I would have Harry out of it in the first place. Now, an answer to my question, Mr. Krum, what would your headmaster do the moment you admit to him that – not only would you like to change houses, but schools, also?"

Professor Karkaroff had chosen him as his champion, and he had – in unmistakable terms – made it clear that he expected him as a participant of his school, or he would be dead. Professor Karkaroff didn't care if he survived the tournament or not, as long as he won it. The professor had always seen him as "his" demonstration piece. In other words, he was dead anyway.

"I better do not think about that, Professor." He said, shuddering, trying to not thinking about what Professor Karkaroff would do with him.

"In this case, I cannot help you, Mr. Krum." The Professor said, and he took a deep breath before getting up from his chair. He had known it, and he could be lucky that the man hadn't killed him so far – or at least punished him in any other way – for his audacity.

A moment later he frowned at the man's words, thinking.

He'd said that he better didn't think about it – in other words, that he didn't want to tell the man what Professor Karkaroff would do, and only then had Professor Snape said that – in this case he couldn't help him. He hadn't said he couldn't help him at all, only that in this case, should he be unable telling him what ...

"Weell, Professor Karkaroff would not be pleased." He said, slowly, unsure if he was correct, but Professor Snape didn't send him away. He sat there and listened, apparently he wanted him to be honest with him, without secrets. "He would accuse me of treachery and disloyalty, of betraying not only my school but my headmaster, too." And still Professor Snape listened instead of waving him off. "He would not only expel me openly, and in disgrace, but he would also give a bad report, making sure that I couldn't attend any other school or institution ever again – if he wouldn't kill me outright. Not to mention from his punishment before that."

"That would consist in – what?" Professor Snape asked and for a moment he hesitated before he took a deep breath. The man seemed to expect an answer, never mind what – and well, he had started going down that road, there was no going back now.

"Professor Karkaroff – first uses the cruciatus, and after that a cursed quill on the students." He carefully said, not sure how far he could go, not sure if it was wise, giving the dark man ideas. "He would write a line that would repeat itself automatically, chosing what bodypart of the student the words would be cut in, the lines themselves, their length, and the number of the lines being dependent on the crime of the students."

"I see." The man said, leaning back in his chair, still looking calmly, and he looked at the fire, just to take his mind off the upcoming punishment. He'd once displeased his headmaster. The man had magically glued him to sit at his desk, had then cast several crucios at him, and had then, when his nerveendings had already been on fire, started writing. It had been 'You are not to displease your headmaster, or you shall be punished severely', a small line only, he knew students at Durmstrang who'd been punished with much longer lines, but professor Karkaroff had made the quill writing the line two hundred and fifty times on a piece of parchment, slowly – and at the same time the lines had cut open his back over and over again while he'd been helplessly enduring the pain, feeling the blood running down his back. He'd been a wreck after that, and he'd never ever again disobeyed his headmaster ... until now ...

"Did your headmaster bring his quill with him to Hogwarts?" The man asked and he sighed.

"Yes, sir." He then answered. "He has packed it."

"Very well." The Professor said, and inwardly he prepared himself for the rejection. "In this case I expect you to remain here on the sofa for the time being, and until we have a better solution. I will have my house elf gathering your belongings, and I will have a word with Professor Karkaroff as soon as I get the chance. Seeing that this particular house holds lessons here, you will be safe from your headmaster during those, and seeing that we are going to meals together, you won't have him singling you out during meals either. He won't be able to touch you, as long as he is a guest at this school. Tomorrow morning after breakfast, Madam Pomfrey and I will do a thorough long term examination, but for now – from your last visit you know where the bathroom is, so now I expect you to prepare for bed and then lay down on the sofa – and for further notice, Mr. Krum, curfew is at eleven p.m. for you, and I expect you abed by then." – was all the man said before leaving him sitting on the sofa in his quarters, going to a room himself which he was rather sure was the man's private room.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in A few days more
Karkaroff, Molly and Malfoy ...

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