Title:
A few days more

Sequel to:
Twenty-one days

Author:
evil minded

Date:
November, 12th 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

"Alright." The boy sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm sorry. It's just ... well ... I've been to the kitchen on Monday night, after curfew ... I didn't mean to sneak around, really, Professor ... I just wanted to get a glass of water, I swear ... really ..."
"Harry." He calmly said when the child's breathing started to get irregular with clear fear, placing his hand atop the child's knee in a calming manner. The boy, anyway, flinched upon the touch. "Calm down, you are not in trouble, neither for getting a glass of water nor for getting something to eat, even if it is past curfew. This is your home, child, you are allowed to visit the kitchen if you are hungry, even if it is in the middle of the night."
"But ... but the ghost ... he said ... the ghost said I had no dealings in the kitchen after nightfall." The boy softly said, and he nearly seethed with anger. "And he'd threatened to tell you and ... and I didn't want to lose you ... and ... and I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to ..."
"Stop." He softly said, increasing the pressure of his hand on the boy's knee. "I know that you didn't mean to do anything wrong – and you didn't do either. You did absolutely nothing wrong, child. You are allowed to go to the kitchen never mind the day- or night-time. You are allowed to have a snack whenever you want, there is no need for you to go hungry ever again, child, not while you are living under my roof and under my protection. And concerning that ghost, I will have a clear word with him – or he will be taken off his nail. I'll cut his canvas off its frame if necessary. Do you understand this?"
"Yes, sir." Came Harry's answer, the boy sounding very relieved, looking very relieved, too.
"Good – and now, what is it, that is blue, small and loves pebbles?" He asked, just to get the strain off the situation, even though he already knew the answer to this yet another silly question.
"What?" The boy asked, confused, looking up at him as if he, Snape, had lost his mind, and he lifted his eyebrow.
"That blue and small thing of yours that loves pebbles, what is it?" He asked. "That thing with which you wanted to divert me earlier."
"Oh ..." The boy made, blinking up at him, owlishly. "Uhm ... well ... it's the little brother from the big, blue stone eater."
"I should have known." He sighed, shaking his head. "Of course, it would be the little brother from the big, blue stone eater."

A few days more
Chapter twelve
Nocturnus arensentia lupus

It was a strange thing, with his father.

He'd never had someone who had cared what he did do or what he did not do. He'd never had someone who had cared if he did something dangerous or if he did something that might be unhealthy. He'd never even had someone who had told him what would be healthy or unhealthy to begin with.

Of course, he wasn't stupid, and so, of course, he did use his common sense to find out what could be deadly, what could be dangerous, or what could be otherwise unhealthy – but that had rarely helped him. It had definitely never helped him with the Dursleys, and it had rarely helped him at Hogwarts either, even though that was for different reasons. The Dursleys had just kept him unhealthy because he hadn't been worth their food, and because they had needed him as their slave and punching bag, and here at Hogwarts there had just no one had ever cared – until Severus had started to care, that was – while at the same time they expected him to do great things – again, until Severus had become his father, had become the first one seeing him as the child he was. Maybe that was the reason as to why he didn't really mind the Potions Master calling him a "foolish child", because for once in his life, he was allowed to be a child.

The problem was, the man cared so much that he, Harry, didn't know how to deal with it sometimes.

You just had to take the PE-lessons, and they were every day, and then you knew the problem.

He, Harry, he was a seeker for three years now, since he was eleven, since his very first beginning at Hogwarts, since he had barely known anything about the wizarding world, since he had touched a broom for riding on it, for the first time, instead of cleaning the Dursleys' house with it – but Severus kept him from a broom as far as possible, and he was sure that the Potions Master would rather kill him than allowing him on a broom anytime soon – meaning for the next five hundred years or so, because for his father a broom seemed to be something evil and deathly dangerous that should be banned from the wizarding world like the flying carpets had been about a hundred years ago.

But he was allowed to balance on the high beams in the gym.

Alright, he was only allowed on them because there were mats beneath them, and charmed mats at that, but he was allowed.

Flashback

"Dad?" He softly asked, approaching the man who was sitting at a bench in the gym.

"Yes, Harry?" Severus asked back, moving over a bit and he sat down beside his father.

"I wondered ... well, I wondered why I am allowed to balance on the high beams here, but not to fly on a broom?" He asked, carefully, watching the man leaning back against the wall.

"Because if you fall off them, you can't hurt yourself as the mats below are charmed." His father answered, calmly.

"But I wouldn't fall off a broom." He pouted. "I've never fell off a broom."

"You did." His father said, his eyebrow raised, and he groaned. Of course, the man would remember that. "Last year."

"That's not fair." He said. "It's not been my fault. It's been the dementors' fault."

"Perhaps." His father said. "But you fell. And remember the cursed broom in your first year."

"That's not been my fault either." He sighed, not understanding.

"No, it has not been." Severus admitted.

"So, I've never fallen off a broom by myself, without an outward force." He said, smirking at his father. Surely the man's cunning was rubbing off on him.

"That might be because so far you've had more luck than brains." His father huffed at him. "But that doesn't change anything. You are too light at the moment, and you are not back to your full strength yet, Harry, and until you are – you won't sit on a broom and that is final. One gust of wind, and you would fall off, child, hurting yourself."

"No one has ever cared if I get hurt before." He growled darkly.

"I would not have kept your backside safe for the past three years if I had not cared." The man seriously said, his dark eyes piercing him.

"Sorry, sir." He said, softly. "I didn't mean it that way."

"I know what you meant, and you are right, Harry." The Potions Master said, seriously but leaning his arm over his shoulder and pulling him close, until he was resting with his shoulder against him. "So far, no one has cared about your general health and safety, and even I, I have only tried to keep you alive in the face of danger but nothing more. That will change from now on, child. You are the child here, and I am the adult, you will have to trust me that I mean well, and that I do what is best for you, child."

Leaning against his father, he took a deep breath before releasing it, knowing that yes, his dad was right. And as much as he would like having his independence back, he liked this here more, having someone who finally cared, having someone who finally took care of him, who was there to – to do anything, who was just there for him, for him!

"But couldn't you charm a broom, too?" He hopefully asked. "So that maybe I couldn't fall off?"

"And cheat on the game?" Severus smirked down on him. "I think not."

End flashback

"Harry?" The man he had been thinking about asked, getting him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, dad?" He asked, looking up from his breakfast.

"I got word from St. Mungo's, Harry." His father said. "Your examination is on Saturday afternoon at three."

"My examination?" He asked, frowning. His dad hadn't told him of any more examinations so far.

"Your examination." Severus confirmed, looking at the child calmly, knowing that this surely wouldn't go down smoothly and without a fight.

"What examination?" The boy asked and he sighed. "I've had one, and you've never said something about a second one before, only that I had to visit therapy on Saturday afternoons together with Theodore, Draco and Adrian."

"True." He sighed. "But I've asked St. Mungo's for a general disorder examination for you anyway and they have scheduled this one for Saturday afternoon."

"A general disorder examination?" The boy asked in a mixture of being upset and confused. "What's that? And do the others have that thing, too?"

"No, they have not, Harry." He said. "I had them scheduling one for you simply because I have noticed one or another thing which I would like to have clarified."

"Oh." The boy made, looking thoughtful for a moment before inclining his head and then getting off the table, departing for his room, and he took another deep breath. Well, that had – in one way – gone better than he had thought, but he didn't like the way the boy had accepted that scheduled examination without a real fight. Nor did he like the fact that the boy had left the table despite their agreement on waiting until all of them had finished their meals.

He didn't want to call the boy back, however, knowing that the boy needed some time for himself to get clear with this new information. Again, he was an exception, again there was something he had to do that others didn't have to do, and he could only imagine how the boy must feel with this.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"I don't really understand how simple signs can have any deeper meaning." Harry groaned, frustrated. "It isn't that the alphabet has a special meaning after all, or numbers. They're just needed for calculation – or for writing."

"Oh, but numbers do have a meaning, Mr. Snape." Professor Babbling said. "Just take the number one, it reflects new beginning and purity. The symbolic meaning of the number one is further clarified when we understand that this number represents both kinds of action – physical and mental action. The number two stands for kindness, balance, and tact, duality, and it reflects a quiet power of judgement and the need for planning. The number two beckons us to choose. The spiritual meaning of the number two also deals with exchanges made with others, both in harmony and rivalry – or communication."

"And the alphabet?" He asked, frowning, He hadn't known that numbers could stand for one thing or another – or for so many things, at all.

"Well, take the letter A." Professor Babbling said, smiling. "It is the numerical equivalent of the number one and the first letter of both the Hebrew and Roman alphabets as well as the first vowel. And so, as the alpha of the alphabet, it leads the way with a great deal of confidence and authority. If it is the first letter in a name, the bearer tends to be alert, active and adventurous – or arrogant, just for example, and the letter B is the numerical equivalent of the number two and represents duality, the energy bouncing between two opposites, and emotionally triggered reactions bursting forth from balanced containment. In the Hebrew alphabet B means 'house' – a box, a home base, with boundaries for emotionally bounded people and things. A bearer of a name that starts with the letter B might be beautiful, benevolent and might enjoy bonding activities while they also could be brutal, brash or a bully. They tend to be bold and brave in battle."

"What's the letter H meaning?" Draco asked, smirking at him, and Harry groaned.

"Well, H is the numerical equivalent of the number eight and represents creativity and power." Professor Babbling answered, smiling at their antics, at Draco's smirk and his groaning. "While the number eight represents endlessness, the letter H has a great deal of business skills, and if it is the first consonant of a name, the bearer is likely to be successful in business. Negatively it can be self-absorbed and selfish."

"But I'm not self-absorbed and selfish, am I?" He said, frowning, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Of course not, Mr. Snape." Professor Babbling said. "I am just trying to explain the meaning of numbers, letters and signs to you, seeing that you are lacking an entire year of the subject and therefore we have to start at the beginning. It is a possible meaning, nothing that 'is' but something that 'could be'. Every letter and every number has a good meaning and a bad meaning, like a person can be good or bad. I assume that you have learned from Professor Snape that magic cannot be good or bad – that it just is, but that it is the wielder that is good or bad. And the same it is with the letter in a name. Not the name is good or bad, but the bearer and if the bearer would be named Adam or Carlson or Dennis or any other name, he still would be good – or bad."

"But, if that all could be, or could not be, then the meaning of the runes isn't certain either?" He asked, understanding what Professor Babbling meant but not sure if he could believe it.

"Exactly." The woman said. "It has no meaning at all – for muggles. Like brewing a potion has no meaning for muggles, or a number – except for superstition. But how did superstition arise in the first place?" Professor Babbling asked, walking along the aisle in the middle of the classroom that, just a few months ago would have divided Gryffindor and Slytherin but was now nothing but an aisle, as they were all mixed up. "It arose because of the wizarding world dying." The teacher answered her own question. "In old times, a few thousands of years ago, before witches and wizards had been chased down by muggles, they were openly living amongst each other and the muggles had always gone to the 'shamans' to ask for their aid or their approval, their blessing, because they knew that – they knew best. And they learned from them, too. If the 'shaman' threw his runes, then they learned that for example the rune Fehu stood for possession, income and luck – but they never learned that it was possession won or earned, that it was income earned and only a bit of luck. They never knew that it was a rune from Freya's aett, that it stands for domestic cattle and wealth and that its letter is F – its number therefore six. They realized that if it fell the wrong way round, then it meant loss of personal property, esteem or something that put in effort to keep but they never realized that it also could be some sort of personal failure, also. You see – muggles learned a lot from the wizards and witches around them, but they never understood what they learned – and people tend to fear that what they don't understand, and they destroy that, what they fear. Much knowledge got lost over the centuries on the muggle side, but there are a few things they still remember. But they don't understand it, and so they fear it. They can't destroy that knowledge of course, as it is in their minds – and so they are trying to ignore it, what is not possible if they are confronted with – for example the number thirteen, or the letter S, or a rune they don't understand. A black cat crossing the street coming from their left side, or if they break a mirror ... there are a lot of examples muggles don't understand, even if it is in their minds, handed down over generations. But those things do have a magical meaning. You need two candles if you start a sexual bond, two candles for balance between the witch and the wizard and you need seven candles if you change that simple sexual bond into a deeper familial bond the day your children are born. You need one candle but seven familial thoughts if you start a parent-child bonding and you need seven counter-clockwise stirs if you brew an adoption potion like your father has done, Mr. Snape, while you need the seventh rune for child protection. You see, anything to do with children needs the number seven, or the letter G. In other words – for us wizards letters, numbers or runes do have a meaning, but that is not what rules our lives, Mr. Snape."

"But, if it is not certain – for muggles, but for wizards, then why would it not rule our lives?" He asked, confused. On one hand Professor Babbling said that it had no meaning at all, but on the other hand she said it was important. He didn't really understand, and his head was swimming.

"Well, first and all most – it we allowed those things to rule our lives, then we would lose a lot of chances, because we'd entirely believe in something, that could be, or could not be. And second – it does have a meaning for us wizards, but it is nothing we really use anymore." The teacher said. "In old times all witches and wizards knew about the runes, but that knowledge got lost over the years because they thought that a good spell is more important than a rune. Over the years there were spells invented for protection, so why would they need a rune? It is nothing we depend on anymore, but it still exists, and it is still very powerful if used wisely. For example, a muggle might find a root that is shaped after Sowilo and they think it's a pretty root. They take it and they keep it, and they might nail it to their wall, or they might put it on a shelf without knowing that it stands for success, goals achieved and honour, for health. Of course, they might be a bit successful, of course the root might help them to achieve better health – but they would never achieve as much as a knowing wizard, because a knowing wizard would use the root with wisdom, with the knowledge that stood behind it. While at the same time, just being in posession of such a root, would not be the guarant for success, we would have to work for our goal anyway. Do you see what I mean, Mr. Snape?"

"Merlin, that sounds very complicated." He groaned, laying his arms atop the table and laying his head over his arms, closing his eyes for a moment. Of course, he understood what the professor wanted to tell him, and of course it all sounded interesting, but it also sounded complicated, and he knew, already, that he would have to do a lot of learning, not only about the runes, but numbers and letters, too, and how to use all of them together, how to calculate with them and how to – play with them, as his father had said.

"Why don't you all just take a rest." Professor Babbling suggested. "It's lunch break in ten minutes anyway, and you all could use the time to rest a bit until then."
Sighing he closed his eyes for a moment.

Why did all the teachers have to worry? He didn't like it, not a bit! He'd never had someone who'd been worried over him, and he felt enclosed, trapped, as if all those people kept him from breathing. Of course, it was nice to have someone who cared about him for once, like Severus, but one person surely was enough, wasn't it? And yes, of course, it was better than Filch or Professor Creighton, or Professor Vector.

He hadn't been there at her class, but Draco and the others had told him about what had happened and Ron getting in detention because he had stuck up to the others. It had been unfair.

So, of course, he was glad that not all the teachers were like that, and of course he was glad that Severus wasn't unfair anymore, that Severus cared about him, and that he even ... liked ... him, but sometimes he thought that it was too much – he just wasn't used to it, and it wasn't easy to adapt to the new changes now – even though it did feel nice.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"I want all of you to take a seat." He softly said when the children entered the PE room this evening.

The day had gone exceptionally well.

Filius seemed to get along very well with this class, being able to have them resting and eating and he was glad that he had scheduled charms for their first lessons in the morning – and at the beginning of the week. Bathsheba, too, seemed able to keep them not only interested but to have them resting, too, before sending them to lunch. And Filch as well as Creighton had kept their hands away from them, too, especially from his son.

"Great, no exercises today." Gregory and Vincent whooped while doing a dance that was worth any physical exercise he could have come up with before heading to the mats he had put up in the PE room in a circle earlier.

He had watched them closely during the past few days and he had of course noticed that, not only had they to rebuild muscle mass, but that they had to work on movement and on reflexes, too. He'd had them doing stretching exercises yesterday and he would work on reflexes with them tonight.

Frowning he watched them sitting down at the mats with little fuss, some of the children clearly not understanding why he would have put up the mats in a circle in the PE room, but he waited until they all had a seat before he himself took the last remaining seat beside Theodore and then summoned a box.

Wordlessly he took a small green ball from the box, and narrowing his eyes for a moment he threw it at Harry – who was startled enough to have trouble with catching the ball, fumbling with the soft green thing for a moment, before he had it safely in his hands. The boy then looked up at him, startled, clearly not understanding, and clearly not knowing what to do with the small green ball now.

"Just throw it to anyone in the circle, Harry." He gently said, worried about the fact that Harry – despite not being prepared – did have such trouble catching the ball. The boy was a seeker after all, and one of the best seekers Hogwarts had ever seen, he had to admit that. He knew very well that Slytherin had only lost the Quidditch cup because of Harry, and that any game they had won had been due to luck and nothing else since Harry was on the Gryffindor team, even though he would never admit that in the face of one Minerva McGonagall.

Unsurely Harry did throw the small ball, to Draco, who looked questioningly at him, Severus, too, and he gave an encouraging nod towards that boy as well, indicating that he should just throw it at anyone in the circle.

And Draco did, threw the ball to Theodore.

Inwardly smirking he took another ball, a blue one this time and threw it to Adrian who was startled, too, because he had watched the green ball flying through the room. The boy actually lost the grip but quickly leaned forwards on his mat, laughing, and picked the ball up.

"Hey look, it's the small blue stone eater." The boy called out, stopping all action in the room for a moment while the others looked, and then laughed, too. A moment later Adrian threw the ball to Emma, while at the same time Hermione threw the green ball to Ron.

He took a red ball from the box and threw it at Cameron.

Ten minutes later there were five balls flying through the room, causing children to try and catch them in the chaos while they were unable to keep an eye on all the balls.

It had been Harry who had been the first one throwing a ball back at him, and for a moment the child had been startled enough about his own daring that he had become frozen on his mat, not able to move fast enough the moment he had thrown the orange ball at the boy, and the offending thing had landed behind Harry on the floor while the boy still blinked at him in shock before he finally smiled and hurried to get up, and to get the ball.

They all had fun with the game while at the same time they had to move, they had to use their reflexes, and they had to concentrate on several balls flying through the room at the same time.

"Nooo ..." Came a scream from Harry just before four balls were thrown at him simultaneously, the boy – apparently knowing that he wouldn't be able to catch them all – throwing his arms up in defense. "You ... just wait ..." Harry then called out a moment later, hurrying to pick up all the balls he had missed, and he even threw himself at the floor towards the last of them when Adrian had gotten off his mat, too, trying to pick one up for himself, both boys laughing with the fun of the game.

"Oh, oh ..." Adrian made a moment later, the boy backing away from Harry who stood there, with a smirk on his face – and four balls in his hands.

"Oh, oh ..." Neville, too, made. "Harry has four balls!"

Harry meanwhile stood there, smirking, holding three balls to his chest while he played with the fourth, the blue one, watching them with narrowed eyes, and for a moment he wondered where the fifth ball was, as the game had stopped completely.

"Know what is big, blue and gnaws at bones?" The boy calmly asked, still playing with the small blue ball in his right hand.

"That ball you're playing with." Draco called out, clearly ready for being attacked by Harry.

"The big blue stone eater who changed its eating habits – again, you've had this one already." Theodore said.

"Nope." Harry answered, still smirking, still playing with the ball in his right while keeping the other three in his left hand, pressed against his chest, and he dared getting his eyes off the boy for a moment to look at the others, trying to find out where that blasted fifth ball could be. "It's the big, blue stone eater with tooth ache, he can't gnaw at stone."

A moment later the boy threw the ball at Draco, the next one at Theodore, one at Ronald and the last one at Adrian, giving the younger boy enough time to prepare, and he chuckled. He had known that Harry would throw them all at once and he had known that he would throw them a bit harder than they had been flying before.

Another moment later something hit his shoulder and he realized that Harry had kept the fifth ball all the time – and was now sitting on the floor with laugher.

"You just wait, you little imp." He growled, summoning the ball that had fallen to the floor and then throwing it back at the boy, just as hard, glad that – even though they were already soft balls, he had anyways cast a softening charm on the balls earlier so that no one would be hurt by them even if the game went out of hands a bit – what it quite did.

The balls often fell to the floor and the children had to get off the mats to pick them back up. Some of them had just kept sitting in the middle of the circle, but he had told them to sit back down on the mats. He wanted them doing those extra exercises, not to mention that it was easier to catch a ball while sitting in the middle of the circle than while sitting on the mats.

Most of them didn't have too much trouble with that, but he noticed that Harry's movements, even though confidently, were still very slow and the boy's arms were still tiring too quickly for his liking. Draco, too, was not back to his previous strength, and Theodore didn't fare any better than Harry, the boy already being tired even though the game didn't even last twenty minutes now – and with twenty-one persons and five balls they had enough rest between movements.

Hermione was able to catch the balls, even though PE surely was not a subject she did like nor exceed in, and she even seemed to have some fun with the game, and the same went for Neville, the boy missing a lot of balls but he had fun anyway.

It was different with Emma.

The girl clearly still didn't feel well in this room here, and she was barely able to catch any ball, soon giving up and he had to try his hardest to keep her in the game at all, encouraging her over and over again and hoping that Hermione would be able to somehow pull the other girl with her, like she always did these days.

Who had him surprised was Cameron. The sixteen-year-old boy did laugh and joke around with the younger children as if he were twelve himself, the boy's face as happy as the faces of all the other children, and suddenly he noticed how good it felt, seeing their happy faces, hearing their laugher and receiving their smiles. It felt different from what he knew about teaching from his past … and growling he schooled his own face back to his usual blank mask when he noticed that he himself had started smiling like a goofy.

Merlin, what did these children do with him? Did they try to destroy his reputation?

He would have to work hard on that, or he would lose his touch with the other students, really!

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Finally!

This bloody ghost did have a mind of his own. He hadn't appeared last night at all, and the night before he'd been there at eight in the evening, already, while on Monday it had been after ten o'clock. Didn't ghosts have a schedule like any normal people, too? Bloody blasted thing!

"A word." He growled, placing the book he had been reading while waiting for the ghost to appear, at the table.

"Divination." The idiot ghost answered, giggling like an idiot.

"You will not keep my students from going to the kitchen for food, never mind the day– or night-time." He hissed at the idiot thing angrily, getting off the armchair he'd been sitting in and approaching the picture.

"That's more than one word." The ghost said, looking disappointed.

"This is not a game." He growled darkly. "I mean it. If you keep my children from going to this kitchen, then I'll take you off your nail."

"Oh, but you won't be able to, because the castle put me here." The ghost smirked at him.

"I see." He smirked back at the ghost. "But even the castle won't be able to keep me from cutting you off your frame."

"You wouldn't do that!" The ghost now said, seriously.

"Try me." He still smirked. "Keep one of my children from going for food again, and I'll do it, without magic, just with a knife, slowly and with due satisfaction."

Without another word he turned to leave. The ghost had paled at his last words, and he knew that he understood, maybe his reputation about being a nasty and ruthless man had even reached the world of the ghosts, perhaps this one here did even know some of the Death Eaters who could tell stories, and perhaps this idiot ghost had not seen him smiling goofily in the gym earlier.

"Snape." The ghost called him back, and for a moment he considered ignoring the bloody thing, but then he turned back to the picture hanging at the kitchen door.

"What?" He asked, keeping his voice impatient and annoyed enough to make his point.

"If your son had entered the kitchen on Monday night he would have disturbed the breeding of your blazon animal." The ghost seriously said, not a hint of his previous smirking or laughing on the pale face.

"What do you mean – the breeding of our blazon animal?" He asked, frowning. "The blazon is a crest, an emblem."

"Yours is not." The ghost answered. "You didn't wonder about all the colours here being different brown with a hint of copper and black, Snape?"

"They are house colours, I already supposed so." He answered. "What's it with them?"

"What animal bears different brown fur with a few small hints of black while having bright copper eyes?" The ghost asked again, and again he frowned, thinking.

There were a lot of brown and black animals and some of them even had copper eyes – and he was not in the mood for playing riddles. Tomorrow there would be this blasted press conference every available – and not available – reporter in England seemed to be dying for. He had tried to keep that report from them completely, but Albus had suggested they partake in at least one official press conference so that the reporters would stop harassing the school.

They wouldn't, of course, be able entering Hogwarts without permission from either the headmaster or one of the heads of houses, and none of them would invite them into the school without agreement of him, Snape. But if they kept the press in the dark, then the reporters would just look for a way to harass the children outside of school, while they were in Hogsmeade for example, and that was the last thing he wished for them. In a press conference he was, at least, present and could keep things from getting out of hands.

Not to mention that tomorrow would be a very hard day on the children, with first Moody, and then Creighton torturing his students, and he had even considered keeping them from those two classes for the time being until they were better a bit. But well, again, Albus had insisted that they visit the classes, and even though he didn't like it, he had to admit that the headmaster was correct, the children had to visit classes, and he could only do his best to help them through any bullying coming from any teacher.

"You just tell me that riddle of yours, or I'll cut you off your frame right now." He growled. "I'm not in the mood for games, these children will have enough to go through in foreseeable time without a ghost harassing them."

"I do not harass them." The ghost now growled back. "I am protecting them like you do. If your son – or any other male – had entered the kitchen on Monday night, then he would not have survived. The animal of your house is a nocturnus arensentia lupus, and the animal was born Monday night, its mother holding vigil. She would have killed any male entering, and I have kept vigil over your children so that none of them entered during the birth."

"A desert night wolf!" He gasped, for a moment unable to keep his cool mask, but then he turned hastily and pushed the door open, entering the kitchen. He hadn't been there during any night since they were down here, nor had anyone ever told them about their animal mascot for the new house – he hadn't even known that they would get one. The days of the founders that had those animals that had become the blazon animals for the four houses of Hogwarts, were long gone, after all ... and never, not in his wildest dreams, would he have thought that they might get any living animal that would be the blazon animal for their house for the next centuries to come.

And there it sat, a wolf, dark and light brown mixed together, with a faint black line around its neck and eyes so large and blazing copper, it was startling.

A baby wolf only, but already as large as a young wolf being able to start hunting would be, and immediately he knew that this animal wasn't here for only a year or two until they had recovered and were ready to go back to their houses but that this animal would take a hundred of years to grow into an adult desert night wolf, that this animal would be the animal of their house for the time Hogwarts existed.

Merlin!

Hogwarts had, indeed, created a complete new house, a truly and completely new house, not temporarily but permanently, a fifth house and its animal – the only living house animal known since the days of the founders – was a hunter, a deathly predator if full-grown … and as if the animal had read his thoughts, the baby wolf lifted her head and started giving a – baby version of a howl.

Leaning with his hands onto the kitchen table he closed his eyes for a moment, letting his head hang in acceptance.

Welcome to Wolvenhowl.

And suddenly he knew the reason as to why this animal was here. A hunter, a predator – no child in this house would ever go hungry as long as this animal was here to hunt.

Giving in to the feeling of the air around him, to the softness of the castle, to the stillness of the night and to the deepness of the animal watching him, he suddenly knew what he had to do.

Never before in a thousand of years had a head of house had to do this, because never before in a thousand of years had a head of house had a living animal as their house mascot. The last known heads of houses to do such a thing had been Salazar Slytherin who'd been keeping a basilisk, Godric Gryffindor who'd kept a lion, Rowena Ravenclaw who'd had an eagle and finally Helga Hufflepuff who'd held a badger her animal.

And now Severus Snape was to bond with a desert night wolf.

Taking a deep breath he stood straight, extending his hand invitingly to the wolf – a moment later he had a baby wolf running towards him, awkwardly and on unsure paws but steadily, just to jump at him, her claws sinking into the skin of his hand in the attempt to climb him and he hissed at the pain for a moment, before he lifted the animal up and into his arms.

He took the small head into his free hand, lifting the small brown head and holding it so he could have a closer look.

The black line that ran over the animal's brown fur around and over its neck went up to the wolf's head to end just between the big, copper, baby eyes, above the small black nose twitching.

The young animal lifted both its front paws as if taking a hold at his hand, trying to turn its head away, and he tightened his grip a bit, careful to not hurt the baby wolf, ignoring the little thing gnawing at his fingers.

The copper eyes looked clear and awake, the little teeth definitely were healthy, too, considering the gnawing on his fingers, and the animal's movements were – even though awkward – strong and healthy, too.

Locking his eyes with the wolf's eyes he started the bonding, allowing his emotions to overtake him, for once, allowing the animal to see him, to see his soul and his heart, his magical core, and his entire being, while at the same time he was allowed the same.

It took them only a few seconds, a minute at the best to bond, but immediately he knew that it was a bond until one of them died.

"Well, then let us wake the children, Diagon." He whispered, running his hand over the wolf's fur as he left the kitchen. "They will have to know you, and you will have to know them."

"Don't you think that it's too late in the night for that?" The blasted ghost asked. "They do need their sleep."

"Yes, they do." He admitted, turning towards the ghost, and suddenly he knew that there was no need to cut him off his frame. That ghost was only there to keep them safe as well as their baby wolf, he just didn't like the way he was doing that, and he would have to make that clear. "But they also need to bond with this animal, and soon. I understand that you couldn't tell me, but you will have to trust me from now on. I have bonded with this wolf, I have named her, and I am the head of this house, a permanent house, and you will have to respect that, and my decisions made."

"As you wish, Professor Snape." The ghost said, smiling, bowing his head. "The bonding between this animal and your children should happen at night anyway."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"Dad?" Harry asked, sill half asleep.

He had put the wolf down before he had gone off to wake the students. He had remained standing in the doorway to Harry's room for a moment, watching the boy in his sleep that had been peaceful for once, immediately knowing that there wouldn't be any nightmares in foreseeable future, knowing that the night watcher would watch over Harry as well as over the others, that the nocturnal animal would hold vigil, would keep them safe during the night, even from nightmares.

A fitting animal for their house indeed and for a moment, surrounded by powers bigger than him, he had bowed his head in deep humility towards the animal, the children, the castle, and his own new position as not only the head of this house, but as the founder of the fifth house of Hogwarts.

"Come here, child." He softly said, waving the boy over with his hand while sitting down at the sofa.

He had woken them all, had told them to just grab their blankets and to come to the parlour, watching the animal sniffing around, the little thing being out of the kitchen for the first time, watching the children coming from their rooms one by one, sleepily and clearly only half awake.

"I wouldn't have woken you all if it weren't important." He gently said while pulling his son on his lap, the boy leaning with his shoulder and head against his chest and shoulder. "I take it you all have realized that Hogwarts has created a new house for us." He then started to explain. "Magic is a strange thing, and sometimes we know what we have to do or what is happening without any doubt. Such a thing happened tonight. This house, the house of Wolvenhowl, will be a permanent house within the castle of Hogwarts, a small fifth house, reserved for a handful of students in need only, but it will last for another thousands of years, and like it had happened at the time of the founders, we got an animal. Not a crest, not a picture on a piece of metal, but a real, and living animal."

The wolf, feeling her call, came over from one of the corners it had been examining, and a moment later she had a startled Harry sitting on his lap, looking unsurely, scared even, when the animal lifted its paw to place it on the boy's leg, coming closer and starting to gnaw at the child's fingers, carefully, playfully, as if it knew that it could easily hurt the fragile child.

"You do not have to fear her, Harry, none of you have, because she will protect you." He said, running his hand over the animal's face to stop it from gnawing Harry's fingers. "This is a desert night wolf, a nocturnus arensentia lupus, and the castle seemed to see it fit to present us with this particular animal. She will go hunting, and so as long as she lives, no one will go hungry ever, as she will provide us with food if necessary. She is also a nocturnal animal, and she will watch over your sleep, over your dreams, and over your weaknesses during night. She is the animal of a founder, of a house, and you, as the first children living here in this house – as the children of this very family, you will need to bond with her, too."

"She's beautiful." Harry whispered, having calmed down and now running his bony fingers through the soft baby-fur. "And so soft, and so warm."

"That she is." He answered. "And none of you have to fear her, for she is here because of you. She was born on the night from Monday to Tuesday, and that was the reason this blasted ghost over there has kept you from entering the kitchen, Harry. Had any male entered the kitchen on Monday night, the mother of this creature would have killed him. This bloody ghost here seems to be here for your protection as well as for the protection of this animal, and you should follow his instructions. I just don't like his way of actions. Do you hear, Mr. Nameless? You better start explaining to the children why they have to do things or why they can't do things, and if you feel unable to explain them, then you better call for me. And you better start telling me your name soon, too, you idiot piece of artwork." He growled.

"Dad?" Harry asked, looking up at him and he could feel the boy's green eyes on him unsurely.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked, looking down at the child.

"If this wolf is the wolf of a founder, does this mean that ... the basilisk ... in the chamber of secrets, does this mean that the basilisk had been the animal of a funder, too? Of Salazar Slytherin? Your house?"

"Yes, Harry." He sighed, knowing the child's line of thinking. "But the basilisk is not to compare with this animal here. The basilisk had been the bonded animal of Salazar Slytherin a thousand of years ago, and back then the basilisk might have been there for the protection of the snakes, of the Slytherins, too, but with the death of Salazar Slytherin the animal was alone, without a Master, alone, and nine hundred years are a long time. The animal must have gone crazy even though it had been in a kind of hibernation for a long time. The one Master who awoke him then, had been the Dark Lord, and of course the basilisk, after nine hundred years of loneliness, influenceable and weak, of course he went dark, grateful to his new Master, doing his biddings. You did not kill an innocent animal but a predator that would have killed half the school, you included, Harry. You did what you had to do, and even though it shouldn't have happened in the first place, it was not your fault. We all, the adults, we should have made sure that it didn't happen. If anyone is at fault for the animal's death, then are we and surely not you. Do you understand?"

"But why is this the house of Wolvenhowl, uncle Severus?" Draco asked. "If you are the fifth founder, and from what I understand you are, then this should be the house of Snape, shouldn't it?"

"And what would this do to all of you?" He asked, sighing, watching the wolf approaching child for child, watching them bonding, watching the children falling asleep as soon as they had finished the bonding. "My name holds a bad reputation, and it would only come down towards you. I might be a – kind of – founder, but that doesn't mean anything now, thousands of years after Hogwarts' foundation. The old times are long gone, Draco, and I am only a latecomer, not one of the original founders. The castle has instructed me to name this house Wolvenhowl instead of Snape and that does make it valid."

"Wolvenhowl doesn't sound so … charming." Draco complained, sighing. "Couldn't it have been Wolf Warrior or something like that?"

"And surely Hufflepuff didn't sound so charming either, back then, but Hogwarts has named that house, and so be it." He said. "Be proud about it, Draco, because no one else, now, has the chance to be the first children in a newly founded house, ot to actually bond with their blazon animal."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in A few days more
Moody reporters and defense with Moody

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 96
Gryffindor 53
Ravenclaw 27
Hufflepuff 14
Hogwarts 21
Durmstrang 04
Tennessee Institute of Magic & Technomancy 01