Title:
A few days more

Sequel to:
Twenty-one days

Author:
evil minded

Date:
November, 16th 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

"That boy has no one else who wanted him, so I took him as my son."
"You know that I ..."
"You have offered him a home even though you didn't have one, Black, even though you've been on the run, without knowing anything about his background, a stupid thing to do, that had only disappointed him the moment it has been impossible for you to take him and he'd had to go back to his relatives." He said. "But have you looked out for him during the holidays? Have you checked up on him to see if he was well cared for during the holidays? No, Black, you have not, or the child would have been more healthy when he came back to Hogwarts. You are barely able to look out for yourself let alone for a child, Black."
"I wasn't able to ..."
"And you are not able now either." He said. "You are a wanted convict still. How often do you wish to hurt him again?"
"Even if Sirius can't take Harry, I could ..."
"You!" He hissed at the wolf. "What have you done for the boy except of offering him a smile and a bar of bloody chocolate? You have never checked up on him either, not once in twelve bloody years and even though you had the boy under your very nose for nearly an entire year – you have not really seen him, or you would have noticed that he was ill, wolf! You are so much centered around yourselves, both of you, pitying yourselves, you do not really think of the child and what you would do to him if you hurt him further, but only at yourselves. And now I bid you a good evening, gentlemen, because I have a son to look after before I retire for the night."

A few days more
Chapter sixteen
Shoes, socks and something else

"Harry, do you think I have chosen safe footwear that covers your ankles without reason?" He couldn't help asking Monday morning, just the moment they reached the great hall for breakfast. It wasn't the first time that he saw Harry wearing his shoes with his laces open – but not just open as in 'they got loose and then came undone again'. No, the boy had stuffed the open laces sideways into his shoes – and not for the first time.

He had seen it for the first time yesterday morning after they had left the great hall, but he had said nothing to it, seeing that they had been close to their quarters where Harry would get off his shoes anyway. Next time he had seen it, was on their way to Albus' office and he had told the boy to tie his shoelaces. Harry had told him that yes, he would do so in a moment, when they reached the Headmaster's office where he could sit down. He hadn't paid much attention to Harry having tied his laces or not afterwards, because he had been a bit distracted by the subject they had just discussed with the blasted old man – about the mutt and the wolf.

And now again this morning.

"Uhm – no, sir?" The boy looked up at him, unsurely, questioningly.

"If I remember it correctly, then I have asked you to tie your shoelaces, already yesterday, Harry." He said. "And now they are open again – and do not tell me that they came undone by themselves, seeing that they are stuffed into your shoes."

"Uhm – well, it's been a bit hectic this morning." The boy slowly answered, and immediately he knew that it wasn't the entire truth.

"Tie them now." He just said upon reaching their table, knowing that making a fuss would only draw attention what surely was not in Harry's interest.

"'k" The boy answered, sitting down, and he concentrated onto the children starting their breakfast, taking oat flakes and milk or toast and marmalade. He had started allowing them to eat what they wanted, provided that they ate reasonably and together. Most of them had overcome their stomach cramps or being ill after meals, and had gotten used to food again, even though they still ate smaller portions than they had done last school year. He kept an eye on their eating habits, anyways, better safe than sorry, he always said, but it wasn't necessary anymore to watch them like a hawk. He only needed to have a closer look at Harry, Theodore and Adrian, perhaps even at Draco – and Emma.

Surely it wasn't that they didn't want to eat, but they were just still too unwell to have really healthy portions, and Harry sometimes, even still lost his meals shortly after – not to mention that having a meal in the great hall was strenuous for the child, mentally strenuous – added to lessons, their physical exercises, and going through an entire day – of course it was pulling on the boy's strength, so that what little he ate was undone by all that.

But well, he had known that Harry's recovery would be much, very much slower than the recovery of the others, because none of them had been as weak as had been Harry, none of them had been starved as long as had been Harry, and none of them had been so close to death as had been Harry.

And speaking of the boy – Harry hadn't taken anything for breakfast yet.

Looking down at the boy on the bench beside him, he noticed that – Harry was still busy with trying to tie his laces, one foot pulled up at the bench and having two loops of the shoe laces in one hand, trying with the other to somehow wind the other lace around them. He could see the boy's fingers trembling worse than they normally did, and he was sure, would Harry look up now, then he would see a pale face with dark red cheeks and green eyes that held tears.

"Why don't you just put them back into your shoes." He gently suggested, resting his hand on the boy's back. "Right now, it is time for breakfast. We will care about these laces of yours after that and during potions."

Well, the boy didn't give him an answer, but he nodded his head, got his foot down from the bench and then started taking food – a bit. Of course, just a bit.

"Do you remember the first math lesson you and I have had a few weeks ago, Harry?" He asked, scooping more oat flakes into the boy's bowl. Harry just nodded, not looking at him. "Then I am sure you also remember that it was not the end of the world, the fact that you were unable solving an arithmetic problem. We solved the issue by showing you how it was done and now you are able to. The same it is with this here. I will just show you how it is done, and then you will be able tying your shoes by yourself in future. And now eat."

Again there was only a nod and he sighed, barely able to imagine the shame – misplaced shame – the boy must feel at yet another – 'failure' – as his relatives surely would tell him, would beat into him.

With nearly a smirk he watched Adrian, who sat beside Harry, leaning closer, running his arms around Harry's arm and whispering into his ear "I can't tie my shoes either, don't worry."

"Very good." He smirked, enjoying the startled look from Adrian who had clearly hoped that he hadn't heard the comment. "Then I have two students now, whom I can torture with tying lessons."

"Just great." Both children groaned out loud, but at least Harry was smiling again, nothing else had he wished for.

"I suggest you all pack these cereal bars for later." He said, waving his hand and a box with cereal bars appeared on the breakfast table. "That goes for you, too, Mr. Krum – you are sitting at this table, you'll heed the rules of this table."

While the children each took one of the bars he noticed that Krum was rather quiet this morning, but he didn't comment on it, knowing that most likely the boy was just tired on this first morning in the week.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Potions hadn't been too easy, and he'd had to remind himself a few times that it wasn't Harry's fault. Adrian had gotten the hang of tying his shoes rather quickly, but Harry had tried and tried, but somehow his fingers had done different things than his brain wanted them doing.

Not too surprising, seeing that the boy suffered from a right-left confusion – anyway, it wasn't easy watching the boy struggling with the laces. He had even been suggesting the boy wearing shoes without laces at all when Harry had been close to tears again, even though he knew that it wouldn't solve the problem at all.

Real help had come from Cameron.

The boy had come over from his cauldron after his potion had been finished, the sixth year student of course being quicker than the fourth years.

Flashback

"Know what's green, and big, and eats stones?" Harry asked, clearly out of pure frustration and most likely in hopes to deflect the subject enough to stop this struggle, his voice trembling with barely kept tears.

"The big, green stone eater of course." He sighed. "Is there one in every color? Let us continue this without distraction, Harry."

"No, it isn't, sir." The boy answered, looking up at him hopefully and he leaned back, tiredly. Merlin, why didn't he just buy shoes without laces for the boy! This here was nonsense. The potions class was over soon, and Harry still was unable to tie his shoes, completely and utterly unable.

He should have realized that there were things that were important for the boy to learn, and then it was worth the time spent learning it, but there were also things that were unimportant. The teen didn't need the ability of tying his laces, it was no vital ability.

"Then what is it, Harry?" He asked, giving in. Harry didn't manage this here, and forcing the boy to struggle with something he wouldn't need anyway, that was just plain stupid.

"Well, it's not the big, green stone eater, sir." Harry looked up at him with a mixture of a smile and his usual unsureness, as if he wanted to smile, knowing that he had won, that he, Severus, had given in, but didn't dare to. "It's the big, blue stone eater, but someone dropped a bucket of green paint into the hole."

"Why not a bucket of green paint, of course." He sighed. How many of these ridiculous stone eater jokes could his son come up with until he was old and grey? "Why do we not just buy shoes without laces for you?" He asked, knowing that his son had won.

He wouldn't give in so easily, not normally, but there were so many things that were more important right now, more vital even ...

"What ... no!" The boy that was his son exclaimed, startled, back to being scared even. "No ... I'll learn it, I promise, please, you don't have to buy even more things now, you've bought enough already and ... and I can learn it, I ... I promise ... I ... please ..."

"Stop!" He growled. "First, you will calm down ... take a deep breath ... good ... because I would not mind buying them. I am not a simple potions teacher, but I am the Potions Master and the head of a house at one of the best wizarding academies worldwide, so I can afford a pair of shoes for you. And second, you are correct, you could learn it, with enough time and effort. But before you overstrain and exhaust yourself on something like this, there are many other things on the list to do that are much more important than learning something that is as unimportant as is tying your shoes. Just for example, like gaining weight, and like getting used to more food, or like working on your sleeping
disorder, like working on your strength and general health, including your muscles and organs that are not working the way they ought to. In other words, Harry, as much as I would normally not give in upon such, I do now, because I know how unimportant it is in the face of other things that could become life threatening if forgotten. Is that understood?"

"But I can learn ..."

"And I just told you that I know that you could, but it is not necessary to load yourself with learning something as unimportant if there are more vital things to learn." He said, having a hard time to not snap at Harry. Of course, he knew that it wasn't Harry's fault, that Harry only tried to please him in doing his best, but the boy's persistence was annoying anyway.

"Sir?" Came Cameron's soft voice from his left and he looked up at the boy who had approached him. "If I may be of help? You're explaining this too complicated, sir."

What was there to explain the wrong way? He had told Harry that there were more important things than tying his shoes, things that were important for his life, and the issue with the laces was over in his opinion. Anyway, wordlessly – but with a huff – he got off the bench he had been sitting at with Harry.

Too complicated! Adrian already had learned how to tie his laces after a few minutes, had tied them a few times now, not so Harry, and he had been sitting beside the boy, trying to show him how it was done but Harry's fingers simply didn't do the job his brain wanted them to.

But well, perhaps Cameron had more luck. He had long ago learned that even though he was a teacher, and even though he was a head of a house, sometimes the children amongst each other could explain things easier than did he, even though in his eyes he did it the easier way.

Cameron sat down beside Harry, opening his own laces.

"It's actually quite easy." The boy said and he huffed, again. Of course, it was easy, but not for Harry "Look, you're taking one lace and form a rabbit's ear, then you take the second lace and form the second rabbit's ear, see, like this. And then you just make a knot into them because the rabbit has been eavesdropping on you and Draco sharing secrets. Exactly like that, Harry." Cameron added, looking up at him with a satisfied smirk and got off the bench, back to his own table to clean up his working station.

A rabbit – with two ears – eavesdropping ...

But the smile on Harry's face who undid the laces and then – slowly and awkwardly – did this rabbit-ear-thing again, it was enough for him to give a relieved sigh.

"I do thank you, Cameron, for your support." He said, inclining his head towards his oldest student who grinned openly at him.

"See, dad?" Harry said, enthusiastically after he had redone the laces again, showing him his shoe and where the boy's face had been so sad, and tired, and miserable, just moments ago – it was now a happy face, eager to show him what he had learned and he realized another thing.

"Yes, I see, child." He said, looking down at the boy and running his hand through the black hair.

This boy was happy to learn things, any things, even if it was something ridiculous like tying his laces, but he wanted to learn – he had just never gotten the chance to learn, he had never been allowed to learn and even here at Hogwarts the boy had either struggled to catch up on the small things any child would have learned in pre– and primary school, or he had tried to set his standard on Ronald so he wouldn't get punished for doing better – or he had been ridiculed by his teachers, like in his case, being robbed of the wish to learn.

With a frown he checked the texture of the boy's hair between his fingers while running them through the black hair. Had the boy's hair become longer? It was definitely longer, of course, hair was growing after all, but it was longer than it should be after five weeks of school. It nearly reached the boy's shoulders.

"Why don't you all take your cereal bars and start eating?" He gently said. The boy's hair had always been a mess, had always done what it wanted without obeying a brush, fingers, or the rules of nature.

"All of you. The lesson ends in fifteen minutes, and I would like you having eaten your bars before that."

"I haven't finished the potion yet, sir." Neville said, looking up at him unsurely, and he went towards the boy and his cauldron.

"What step are you now at, Neville?" He calmly asked, causing Augusta's grandson to look up at him startled. Well, apparently he could still startle them, good. The boy had surely expected a typical Potions Master remark.

"I have added the bark from the birch." The boy said, still unsurely. "There are still two steps missing."

"Cast a stasis spell, Neville, and then you will be able finishing it in the evening." He suggested.

"Uhm, we didn't learn stasis spells yet, sir." The boy said, unsurely, clearly waiting for an acerbic remark from him.

"Try arresto momentum, Neville and wave your wand clearly at your cauldron or you would set a stasis at the entire classroom, including myself so that I couldn't undo the damage."

"Uhm, won't you rather do this, sir?" The teen asked, startled. "I guess that would be much safer then."

"I am sure that you will be able casting the spell at your cauldron without freezing all of us, Neville." He said, shaking his head and walking towards the front of the classroom, clearly showing that – no, he wouldn't let the boy out of this. "And even if – I am also sure that Albus could undo the damage if you don't show up at transfiguration – after he had taken a picture of the situation." He added with a groan.

Only two minutes later Neville was sitting with them, having cast the spell.

End flashback

"You have had a strenuous day, Harry, please do take a rest." He said.

Transfiguration hadn't been too much a struggle, seeing that Minerva still stuck to theoretical lessons, something he was very grateful for. The children, most of them at least, were still not well enough for using too much magic and he was glad for any teacher seeing reason and doing theory instead of having the children using their wands. Not to mention that Minerva, as well as Filius, had told him that – they found that it was very interesting, doing so, just discussing the theory behind the transfigurations and charms with the students. They seemed to learn new sides on their students, and they seemed to learn how their brain worked – he could have told them that before.

"I'm just doing the puzzle, dad." The boy softly said, yawning. "That's not strenuous."

"Not physically strenuous, but mentally, Harry, and as much as I might be glad about the puzzle calming you, you need to rest your mind, too." He said. Lunch had been a calm affair and he had noticed that again, Krum was very quiet, but he hadn't thought much of it. The seventeen year old student had surely other things on his mind than chatting with their group – other things like his name in the goblet, where he surely had already put it.

In his free period Harry had been reading a book, but every now and then he had gone into the corridor where the children kept their shoes and he had just taken his shoes, opening the laces and re-doing them the way Cameron had showed him, each time smiling.

He didn't like the fact that Harry was practically running back and forth between the parlour and the corridor every few minutes, unable to concentrate onto his book, but if this made him happy, then be it.

The child had been very tired already during dinner, and the PE lesson had been a small disaster, the teen laying on the mats more often than not after stumbling over his own feet, and he couldn't help being glad that he had covered the entire floor of the hall with the mats instead of only around the equipment.

Knowing that it would do more harm than good if he pulled the boy out from the lesson for today however, he had allowed him to go on – and fall on, each time worrying over broken bones or yet new bruises.

"But I'm not thinking at all." The boy frowned, looking up at him puzzled, clearly not understanding.

"Not consciously." He said, kneeling down beside his son and taking a piece of puzzle. "But unconsciously your brain is more busy than if you just thought about something. All these small pieces, your eyes – which are not only tired but bad enough, too, to begin with – have to look for all the small details, your fingers have to grip them and to put them in places where they might belong, and if they don't fit they have to put them back where they had taken it from so that they don't get mixed up, while your mind is trying to remember where you already have tried them, where they have been and if there could be a pattern to follow – and your brain has to coordinate all of this."

"Whoa ..." The boy made, sitting up and looking at him with large eyes. "That's a lot."

"Indeed." He answered, glad that Harry was – yet again – eager to learn instead of being stubborn.

"But why do I not notice how much my brain works?" The boy asked.

"Because it is unconsciously." He answered, sitting down at the floor and taking one of the puzzle-pieces. "Describe this piece of puzzle to me."

"Uhm, well – it is one of the larger pieces." The boy said upon looking at it. "But it has very small stick-outs and so it has to belong someplace with small stick-ins. But it has very long shoulders, and the spade between the two stick-ins looks very strange. It has to belong between two stick-outs into a corner. It's a piece from the house, and I think from one of the lit up windows. The brown border here suggests that it's from the window in the door, because the other windows have no wooden border."

"That was a very good description, Harry." He said, actually impressed. The boy had not said – it's a large piece that belongs to a window, but he had entirely described it. No wonder he was so good at solving the puzzle. "Your mindset is surely anything but simple. However – while recognizing all these details you do not think about them, you recognize them instinctively and therefore unconsciously, you do not have to think about them because your brain is saving all the information in the background. And so, you don't realize that your brain is working. If you however explain the piece to someone else, also set into words what your brain has recognized instinctively before, your brain has to think for doing so, it is not instinctively and therefore not unconsciously, but consciously and you realize that your brain is working. That's the difference between the two."

"Does that mean, if I only unconsciously think, then I am not thinking at all?" The boy asked and he narrowed his eyes at his son.

"No." He slowly said. "You cannot 'think nothing'. Your brain is always working, never mind what, even in sleep, but sometimes it is working in the forefront if you consciously use your brain for thinking, and sometimes it is only working in the background if you are – let me say, dreaming away your time. Come here." He then added waving the boy closer, and Harry scrambled over without hesitation, something he took for a good sign.

He gently took the boy's shoulders and turned him, pulling him close until the boy rested with his back against his chest.

"Close your eyes, Harry." He softly said. "And now breathe in ... and out ... calmly and regularly. Try to find your center and relax into it, just go on breathing regularly and calmly, as if falling asleep. That's very good." He softly said, not only because he tried to avoid pulling the boy out of his calm mindset, but also because – he was startled at how easily and at how quickly this child, a child that had been starved, beaten and locked away for his entire life, was now able to relax in his arms. He didn't know if it was a good sign or a bad sign, if it was good as it spoke of the trust the child showed him, or if it was bad as it spoke of the need the child showed.

"And now try to picture a scene." He whispered. "Any scene. It could be a landscape with either mountains or a lake, or it could be a room, or a house. Even the sky would be alright. You only have to picture it in your mind, don't try to describe it to me, it is only important for you. Do you have it? Very good, and now try to go deeper into the scene. You would only see it in your mind, normally, but now try to go into the scene to see the details, as if you, yourself were present."

A moment later he could see a forest with tall trees that blocked any light coming from the outside … and he nearly gasped.

He knew that it was not his own occlumency scene, even though he did have a forest, too, but this here was a complete different forest than was his.

Never before had anyone pulled him into his mind as easily as Harry had done just now, the boy most likely not even realizing what he had done or he would have been startled. He hadn't even heard of someone pulling his occlumency teacher into his mind upon the first lesson! That was -

"Walk through the forest and picture it." He softly said, leading the boy further than he had been planning, marvelling at the beautiful tall trees. "Each place in this forest, each place you have been at, will be a part of your safety place where you can retreat to whenever you are in danger. But do not run through the forest to explore all of it at once. Rather go slow until you have found a place you like, and then you just stop and learn more about the place, about the several trees, about the foliage and the deer, about the light and about how it feels, before you go further."

He was unsure, he had to admit that.

Never before had he had an occlumency student, and never before had he been in someone else's mind while it was so peaceful. He'd been in the Dark Lord's mind, but that bastard was anything than calm or peaceful and neither was his mind. His mind was a wasteland with lava-spiting mountains and with stones and entire plateaus, black, and glazed over with frozen lava, sharp edges dangerous to the dweller, and he knew that these sharp edges existed in reality, that they were the Dark Lord's sharp mind that was ready to cut through anything, ready to slice – in the truest sense of the word.

He also had been in Albus mind when the headmaster had taught him both, occlumency and legilimency, but Albus' mind hadn't been like that either. It hadn't been the dark and dangerous wasteland of the Dark Lord's mind, but it hadn't been peaceful anyway. It had rather been like – a constant battle, a sea battle, a battle on horses on a field, a battle of angels between heaven and hell – it had been a constant changing battlefield, a strenuous mind to walk in, and he had liked it no bit, while at the same time he had learned that Albus was anything but the nice grandfather.

Albus was a warrior, his friend, but a warrior.

Harry's mind however – it was peaceful and it was calm, it was innocent and he couldn't help hitching a breath at the overwhelming experience.

"Try to do something in your scene." He whispered, slowly, neither ready to give away his own overwhelmed mindset nor to disturb Harry's. "Try to actually sit down or to reach out and to touch a tree. It is your mind, Harry, and you can do anything in here you wish."

Exactly, the boy could do anything he wished, he could imagine anything he wished, he could do the greatest things and imagine the unimaginable – and yet, the child chose a forest and to just walk through that forest.

A moment later he could see the boy reaching out and touching the tree in front of him, gently running his fingers over the bark, and he noticed that the trees in the forest were large birch trees, the ones they had used in potions for healing salves. And the child was happy with it.

"What a beautiful place, dad." Harry said, turning towards him, the Harry in Harry's mind, not the real one, and again he frowned.

Never before had anyone in anyone's mind been able to communicate with him, and he took another step closer, experimentally reaching out to touch Harry's shoulder – and he was able to.

"Yes, it is." He whispered back, astonished. This here, this went against anything he knew about occlumency – or legillimency ...

"See that small river?" The boy asked, pointing to a small river flowing through the woods and he nodded. "I'd like to build a tree house there."

"Then do so." He softly suggested. "It is uncommon to build something in your scene, one normally rather would imagine it being there as a shelter, and then it is ... but, if you wish to build it, then just built it."

"I don't know how." His son said, looking up at him, scared. "I ... I've never built something ... always only repaired ... well ..."

"Then I guess it's time you start." He gently answered, pulling the boy close. "I will help you, if you so wish. But not today. It is late and I fear we have to go back. Concentrate on your breathing, keep it calm and slow. Concentrate on your body, on your hands and your fingers, how they feel – and then open your eyes as soon as you are ready."

His son opened his eyes and turned in his arms, looking up at him, and Severus was struck again by the sheer force of those green eyes staring so trustingly up into his own black eyes, a sheer proof of how deep the bond they had formed over the last few weeks went, of how strong it was, and he knew if Harry continued to pull him into his mind, into his vision, then this bond would only strengthen further with each time such happened and to the point where he would have to be careful so that Harry wouldn't accidentally bond their minds, too.

After the adoption-potion, they were bonded in body through their blood as father and son, and they were bond in their souls through the love they shared as father and son – if they were to bond in their minds too, he didn't dare imagine the outcome.

"That was so great." The boy in his arms said, settling back against his chest and snuggling closer into his robes.

"That it was." He said. "So, you have chosen a forest with an overgrown foliage as your barrier, the place that is your safe place, that would protect your mind from outside force."

"Protect my mind?" The boy asked. "Wasn't it my mind?"

"It was your mind, but only part of it." He answered. "The human mind is – let me explain it in easy words – the human mind is like an onion. You have layers of layers which are filled with information, with emotion, with equations and with pictures, with sounds as well as with experiences and new ideas, and all of these things your brain contains intuitively as well as extuitively. You can peel off layer for layer, and you won't ever reach the innermost point anyway as our brain is constantly working and learning. Even my brain, as old as I am, is constantly learning, even while I explain my knowledge to you. Do you realize that you have pulled me into your mind, Harry?"

"I have what?" The boy asked, like he had known he would. Of course, the boy had not realized what he had done. "I ... uhm ... sorry, sir, I ... I didn't mean to ..."

"Stop." He immediately said, placing his hand over the boy's chest. "Stop, and keep breathing calmly. You have done nothing wrong. What you have done is a mixture of occlumency and legilimency and even though I have known that it is possible, I have never heard of anyone actually managing such feat, and surely not upon the first attempt. You have done nothing wrong, child, and if I had wanted, then I would have been able to hinder your attempt. I have followed your pull willingly. It is I who has to apologize for the intrusion on your mind."

"What – but no!" The boy immediately said.

Of course – the child was so ready to apologize for everything that wasn't even a mistake, but if someone apologized to him, and rightfully so, then he wasn't ready to hear any of it.

"Easy." He said, applying a bit of pressure on the boy's chest to keep him from taking a deeper breath that would initiate a rant, and gritting his teeth for a moment at the bony chest underneath his palm. "Your mind is a very private thing, Harry." He then explained. "And no one has the right to enter anyone's mind without permission, except for life threatening situations – and even then only a healer is allowed to. Now, you have – in one way – given your permission, seeing that you have pulled me into your mind, and so you definitely wanted me there or you wouldn't have done so – but only in a way, because have you actually thought 'I will now pull Severus into my mind'? See? You have done it unconsciously and so – rightfully I should have prevented it."

"What is occluthings and legilithings?" The boy asked, and he huffed.

"Occlumency and legilimency." He then answered. "I have told you that your mind is very private, but it is possible to break into your mind with legilimency."

"And to read my thoughts?" The boy asked, horrified.

"Not exactly." He sighed. "Like I said, it is complicated, it isn't like a book and you skimming through the pages until you have found what you are looking for to read it. A legillimens will be able to wake one or another memory by giving an impulse like a word or a sentence said, and if then entering your mind the legillimens will be able to view the memory, like an onlooker, like with a pensive."

"What's a pensive?" The boy asked.

"A pensive is a device to store memories the way they happened instead of the way one feels about them, I will explain this one later." He explained. "With occlumency you will be able to prevent such intrusion, to protect your mind from anyone entering by force and against your wish. It means to create a scene in which everything is sorted in a way you are comfortable with, a scene that gives anyone entering just an impression and keeping him from going deeper into your mind. You will need protection devices for that, like one or another animal, trap, or anything else you can imagine."

"Can you do these things?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I am able to either use legilimency to enter someone's mind, and to occlude my mind so that no one can enter."

"Cool." The brat exclaimed in awe. "Can you show me?"

"What I have shown you today is already the basic of occlumency." He said. "You are too young to learn it entirely, your mind is too young, and you could take serious harm if you used real occlumency or legilimency, but the basics of it, yes, I can show you. I even think that it will do you good, to organize your life and your mind. But in a playful way only, mind you."

Well, that had been a comment that had Harry turning quickly, startled, coughing, and he turned the boy, carefully hitting the boy's back with his palm.

"You know, that's scary." The boy then said when he was able to breathe again.

"What?" He asked, smirking. "The fact that I use a terminology like – learning something in a playful way?"

"Yes, that's really scary."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"Your feet are cold, Harry." He said upon touching them.

The boy had gone to bed, but was laying there for over an hour now, unable to actually sleep, and he had found him turning in his bed when he had come to have a look on his son before retiring to bed himself.

He had checked on the boy, had cast a short diagnostic, knowing that Harry would surely do anything else but telling him physical troubles. The boy didn't even tell him if he had stomach aches, if he had cramps, but bore them silently – another reminder of the abuse the boy had been through at the hands of his relatives, the child was used to taking whatever was thrown at him, silently and without complaining, even though there could be a solution like potions or massages.

"Know." The boy sighed. "But I'm wearing socks." He added, leaning onto his elbow and looking up at him pleadingly as if he had blamed the child for having cold feet.

"I know, I have touched your feet just a second ago." He sighed, shaking his head and going over to the boy's shelf, pulling out the drawer that contained Harry's socks.

The shelf was just that, a shelf, a large shelf that replaced a cupboard, and he had put it there to keep any memory of a cupboard out of the boy's mind, but there were several drawers integrated, one with socks and one with underwear, just for example.

Frowning he looked through the mass of the several parts of socks.

"This drawer is a mess." He said, trying to find two socks that matched. "Why don't you place the socks in pairs, Harry? That way you might, perhaps, be even able wearing matching socks instead of always different ones."

"I'm trying, sir." Harry said, being back to 'sir' and he knew the reason. "But they get mixed, I don't know why, sir."

"There is no need to worry, Harry." He said, having found two socks that clearly belonged together and going over to the bed, waving his wand at the same time to sort the socks in the drawer into pairs again. "I have sorted them now, and I ask you to keep them that way. Give me your foot." He then said, pulling the thin sock from the boy's left foot. He massaged the foot for a bit with warm hands, until the thin thing was warm too, and then he put on the warmer fleece sock.

"Your other foot." He said, already taking the boy's other foot and repeating the procedure. "You know, barely two days and you already have your socks in disarray, I wonder what this drawer will look like in a week. I want you to wear these socks in bed, Harry, they are warmer, and they will keep your feet warmer, too." He then added, covering the boy's thin legs with the blankie first and then with the blanket.

"And now try to sleep, I will sit with you for a while."

"Dad?" The boy asked unsurely, after having settled back beneath the blankets.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked back.

"It's Tuesday tomorrow." The boy then said, sounding worried. "And that means it's arithmancy. I haven't been at arithmancy last week, because of the black lily in herbology, but I've heard what happened there and ... do you think that it will be the same tomorrow?"

"No, I don't think so." He calmly answered, now knowing why the boy felt unable to sleep tonight. "I have had a serious word with Professor Vector, and I am sure that she will try harder to – regard you and your needs. She is a very good teacher and a very nice person generally, she has just her own issues like anyone else, too, and these issues are keeping her from acting the way others expect her to – or need her to. She will try harder, and if not, then you know where to find me, Harry."

"'k." The boy said, but he didn't really sound confident.

"Harry." He said, leaning closer. "There will be no need to fear a lesson ever again, child. Neither a lesson from me, nor from any other teacher, do you hear, child? I do not care if it is Moody, Creighton or Septima, Vector. If there is a problem, then I expect you to come and inform me so that we can find a solution, whatever solution that might be. You are to learn without fear and I can only apologize again for having mistreated you during the past three years the way I have, having taken that chance from you, to learn in peace and without fear."

It wasn't long after and he had a sleeping child, but he felt unable to get up and go for his own bed, his eyes glued to the small and thin form beneath the covers.

How was it that he felt so deep when it came to this child now? And how was it that he had not seen it in the past, that this was just a child? How was it that he felt so warm while watching a child sleeping? The pale face peaceful for once, the thin fingers relaxed for once, and the breathing calm and regular for once?

How was it that he felt so desperate and so helpless while thinking about how much this child had suffered? At the knowledge that he couldn't do much to make it alright? At the knowledge that this child rather suffered silently instead of bothering anyone?

How was it, that he felt so deep at the knowledge that this child – was his son?

He had no answer to that, but he started to understand what fatherhood meant, what family meant, what it meant to have a son, a child.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in A few days more
the mutt, the wolf, and the snake

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