Previously in twenty-one days

Merlin! The moment he had thought the first potion, the one that would keep Potter's lungs working, hadn't worked – he had thought the world would crush down on him. He'd had potions accidents before, he was a Potions Teacher since long years now, so of course this wasn't his first one. And it wasn't the first one that was serious either, but never before had he nearly panicked like he had today.

He would get the boy out of here, he promised. He would get him out alive, and he would give him a home.

Chapter eleven

Day six

Saturday, seventh of September

Soft sniffling got him out of his slumber and after a moment he needed to get his mind wrapped around the fact that he was not in his private chambers but still in the potions classroom he tried to get his mind to work a bit more so he could find out what exactly was the situation was.

Someone was sniffling again.

What time was it?

He blinked and noticed that he was laying on a mattress instead of on the sofa in his office. A small and warm body was laying half beside him, half atop of him and casting his eyes towards the small person he noticed the messy hair of Potter's head and for a moment his hand came up to run through the messy black mop of hair, a small smile on his lips.

As loath as he was to admit it – he not only had started to reconsider that boy. He realized that he had started to care for Potter, that he had started to care for him deeply, more than for anyone else down here.

Of course he did, a small voice in his head laughed. They were down here since five days now, in a dire situation, not knowing when help would come, not knowing if help would come at all, not knowing if they would survive. He was a teacher that worked with children since nearly fifteen years now and it was his job to worry about them, to care for them. So – yes, it was only logically that he started forming a closer relationship with them now, in this situation where they needed him desperately, especially Theodore and Harry.

He knew those psychological lines. In such a situation the worst enemies could become friends. Something the Dark Lord had liked to play with, imprisoning enemies within the same cell. The bastard had loved to play with the emotions of his victims, watching them forming a close bond and then torturing them, watching their pain, not only the physical pain of the one tortured, but the emotional pain of the one watching.

What the Dark Lord however never had understood was – he actually had done them a favour. The bonds those victims had formed, the friendships they had formed, had helped them through the tortures, and alone in their cell they could be just themselves, they could comfort each other. The bastard just never had known love, and that for he never had understood its capacity.

And the same happened here, he knew.

What he however didn't understand, was the fact that he didn't mind, and again his fingers carded lightly through the Gryffindor's hair.

Again the soft sniffling reached his ears and got him out of his thoughts, and carefully, so he wouldn't wake the teen that was laying with his upper body across his chest, he sat up a bit so he could look the students over one by one.

Harry was still asleep. It was a restless sleep, as he hadn't taken the dreamless sleep last night, yes, but neither had the boy had a nightmare yet, nor were there any signs of crying. Most probably the boy hadn't had nightmares tonight due to the fact that he was comforted by him, seeing that he practically had his arms around the smaller body.

Theodore, the other candidate he thought could have been the cause for the soft sniffling, was asleep too, peacefully right now. He had pulled him from his nightmares already twice that night but he had realized that the boy's nightmares had been less harsh than they normally were. Probably too due to the fact that he, Snape, was sleeping close by, giving his student the feeling of safety.

His eyes next fell onto Tracy, Daphne, Draco and then onto Longbottom and Granger.

Mr. Longbottom and Miss Granger, he growled at himself in his mind.

They all slept peacefully.

A movement at the next mattress beside Miss Granger's one however, caused him to lift his eyebrow. It actually was Weasley who right now was running a fist over his eyes and he could see the boy's shoulders shaking.

For a moment he actually considered leaving the redhead to his misery, but then he sighed. Never mind what – he was the teacher here, he was the adult here, and it was his duty to comfort them, even Weasley. So, with a sigh he made his way out from underneath Potter, from underneath Harry, carefully to not wake the boy and he was glad the moment the young Gryffindor lay flat on the mattress without waking up. It would be enough to deal with Weasley right now, he didn't need Harry to wake up too right now.

Going over to the teen he crouched down at the foot of Weasley's mattress and gently touched the boy's leg. The students had long ago pushed their mattresses together so no gap was between them now where one could have slipped between. It was cold enough down here during the nights so they didn't care about keeping distance, never mind if they were Gryffindors or Slytherins.

The boy lifted his head startled and looked over at him, and he could see the pale cheeks blushing. He didn't say anything about it and just placed his forefinger at his lips, indicating that Weasley should be silent too so he wouldn't wake the others and then mentioned him to get up and towards the desks that stood in the middle of the large classroom. He normally would have taken such a discussion with a student into his office, but Harry and Theodore both hadn't taken the dreamless sleep tonight and he wanted to be close so he could help if necessary. He wanted to have an eye on Harry too after the accident Weasley had caused yesterday.

The fourteen year old did, embarrassment clearly shown on his face.

He took two cups from the cupboard and poured tea from the mantelpiece. He added honey into the one that was for Weasley and then took them to the desk beside which the boy already was standing.

"Take a seat please, Mr. Weasley." He quietly said while placing the boy's cup at the desk, followed by a "drink" while pointing at the cup of tea.

"What do you want, sir?" Weasley asked angrily, sitting down but refusing to take the tea.

"I would be very careful in my choice of tone if I were you, Mr. Weasley!" The Potions Master hissed, leaning his hands onto the desktop and fixing the teen with his dark eyes, causing the redhead to pull away for a moment.

"Why?" Weasley looked at him with a dejected expression on his face. "I've messed up anyway."

"And so you think it doesn't matter if you mess up even more." Snape said, coming to the right conclusion on what was going on in the Gryffindor. He lifted his eyebrow at the youngest Weasley boy. He knew all of them now, and as much as they might look alike, they were different nevertheless. And Ronald Weasley surely was the most difficult to handle. Bill and Charley surely had been some of the easiest to handle, as were the twins, as strange as it might sound. Percival and Ronald were the most difficult ones, even if he had to admit that Percival simply was an idiot that tried to get as much attention as possible whereas Ronald Weasley simply was the youngest of six boys and that for always had to try and live up to his brother's expectations. Ginevra Weasley was another thing altogether. She was very much alike Molly Weasley, even as an only girl with six older brothers what surely wasn't easy.

"What does it matter?" The red headed teen got him out of his musings. "Harry's already angry at me. Hermione doesn't talk to me anymore and Neville always looks at me angrily, as do the rest of the Gryffindors. Even the Slytherins are looking funny at me. Even they seem to be on Harry's side."

Snape looked down at the teenager for a long moment before he sighed and then sat down across from the redhead and to Ron's surprise the anger was gone from the depthless black eyes. If he wasn't mistaken, then there even seemed to be a tiny glimmer of concern.

He blinked rapidly, that surely couldn't be.

"You seem to forget, Mr. Weasley, that there are no houses during our stay down here." Snape then said. "And you seem to be the only one who actually still has problems with this. Our situation is dire enough so we do not need the animosity between our houses right now, and even my Slytherins are seeing it the same way."

"So what?" Weasley shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter anymore. Harry's angry at me, as is Hermione and the rest."

"And you think that is reason enough to simply do nothing to gain back their friendship?" The teacher asked, his eyebrow raised at the teen. "Drink." He added, pointing at the cup in front of Weasley.

"It's too late for that, isn't it?" The red head asked, causing Snape to huff at him.

The Potions Master looked over at the black haired Gryffindor that right now was shivering for a moment. The younger wizard had slipped into an uneasy sleep the moment he had left him, his breathing coming more and more labored and his face was tight in obvious pain. With a sigh he turned back to the Weasley boy.

"Actually, you are quite wrong." He said. "Once I was able to stop the pain in his eyes and lungs, Mr. Potter was quite worried that I might cut you into potions ingredients. Your friend made me promise to keep from doing so. Unfortunately, that for I only can punish you, not kill you."

Weasley nodded at him, gulping, while casting a worried glance at the group of mattresses.

"I didn't want this." He whispered, averting his eyes.

"Then why did you do it?" Snape growled at him, trying to sound not too threateningly.

"I just … I was … I thought … I thought he was betraying us."

"You were jealous." Snape simply stated. "Maybe you should reconsider your prejudices. You have seen that the Slytherins are trying to comfort your friend, even if he is a Gryffindor. And you have seen that the Slytherins are ready to play cards and to joke with your friends even if they are Gryffindors. And you have seen that it simply works. Maybe you will learn that the Slytherins, just as you Gryffindors, are just children, like you."

"Do you think he'll be alright?" The red head asked after a moment of silence, looking over at Potter and once more he caused Snape to sigh.

"I don't know." He quietly said. "We will see coming morning and Harry will wake. I do hope so, but I cannot say so right now."

"I really did not want this." Weasley repeated, leaning his face onto his arms he had placed atop the tabletop.

"I do know this, Ronald." The Potions Master quietly said. "Maybe in future you will think before you act."

At the use of the boy's given name – even if Snape didn't know why exactly he had used it – the redhead looked up at him, startled, blinking at him stupidly and Snape lifted his eyebrow at him.

"Do you think Harry will give me a second chance?" The boy asked, his voice sounding miserable.

"I guess you underestimate your friend, Mr. Weasley." Snape answered, taking another sip of his tea. "Harry has a great capability to forgive. He has forgiven the Slytherins, he has forgiven me even, and I am sure he will forgive you too. If you however misuse his trust once more, then you will have to answer me. Your punishment will be an apology. You will apologize to Harry, and you will do so in front of the entire class. You will do so properly and you will explain your motivations towards him. You will make it up to him in form of acting as a friend instead of a boy that is jealous just because his friend tries to comfort other people as well. And believe me, Mr. Weasley, should you act in such a way ever again, you won't get away so easily. Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." The boy answered, looking a bit more relieved even if the worry hadn't left his face completely.

"The others will see your actions, they might watch you close for a while and I guess it will take some time until you have regained their trust. But I expect you to try your best nevertheless their hesitancy towards you. And now I expect you to go back to sleep. It is still early in the morning and you have missed some of your much needed sleep."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The Potions Master went back to the mattresses, watching Weasley laying down and again his eyes wandered to the smaller Gryffindor that strangely held his affection, towards Harry.

The boy had not woken yet but he still was shivering in his sleep, his face still tense and his sleep had become more restless now, and with a sigh he made his way back to the child. If his presence calmed Potter, Potter of all people, then be it. And honestly, if it took laying beside the boy and running his hand through the boy's hair to comfort him, then it was a small price to pay at the present time.

So he simply re-gathered the boy into his arms and ignoring the flinch and the small whimper Potter gave away, he hushed the child with a few soothing words and ran his hand through the black mop of hair, feeling that he didn't even mind doing so. It still felt strange, but at the same time he felt that he wanted to do this, that it calmed not only the child but himself too, that it felt nice to comfort the boy like this.

He didn't know if Potter would be ready to accept the offer he promised himself he would make, the younger wizard still flinched away from him whenever he offered comfort, but not because it was him, Snape, who offered it, he knew that. Potter flinched upon being touched never mind who it was who touched him, he noticed upon thinking back over the past years, and the boy's mind right now was too hazy to think of who he was with. It would take a long time to get that boy to being a normal teenager that wouldn't flinch or wince upon being touched or being addressed.

Harry woke slowly, his ears picking up the sound before any of his other conscious thoughts responded and he moved his head, trying to bury deeper into the warmth that surrounded him. He felt safe, for the first time ever in his life he felt absolutely safe and he wanted to hold onto that safety for a moment longer, just one moment more.

His next conscious realization was that something touched his head, that something laid on his forehead and it felt nice, he thought for a moment until he wondered what exactly it was that touched his forehead. It was a hand, he soon realized and it was a warm hand, a large one, one that moved its thumb over his brows and he actually had to hitch a breath.

Aunt Petunia never had touched him like this. He could remember aunt Petunia touching Dudley like this, but never him. And now Snape of all people did, Snape of all people touched him in a way he years over years had wanted aunt Petunia touching him. And he knew that it was Snape.

The Potions Master woke from his slumber, not knowing when exactly he had managed to go back to sleep after the conversation with Weasley and he immediately knew what it had been that had woken him. It had been a slight hitch of breath coming from the body that rested over his chest again. Potter.

The candles lining the walls were burning meanwhile and so it had to be at least eight o'clock in the morning.

"Harry?" He softly asked and the boy turned his head towards him, squinting his eyes in the light the candles provided. With a careful and slow movement, so he wouldn't startle the child, he placed his hand atop Harry's eyes, barely touching the lids.

"Keep them close for a moment." He softly said. "Open them when I say so and then I will remove my hand slowly so you can get used to the light."

He waited a few moments until he told the teen to open his eyes and then slowly removed his hand, keeping it so that Potter's eyes still were in its shadow.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, and the Gryffindor gave him a hesitant nod.

"Why are you so nice?" Potter asked, startling him for a moment before he sighed.

"Keep your eyes closed until they stop hurting." The man said. "I am trying to be less my classroom persona because I care, you silly child. And besides, it is your fault, Mr. Potter, that I act so unlike like myself towards you. However you have managed it, but you have used magic down here when no one else is able to."

"I have what?" The Gryffindor asked, squinting his eyes at him, startled.

"I told you to keep your eyes closed, Potter." Snape growled. "You have woven a strange spell over me, you silly child. That is why I seem to actually – like you, how much a headache it might cause me. Will you be able managing to keep your eyes closed by yourself or shall I blindfold you?"

He had made the word 'like' sounding as if he had just chewed something absolutely disgusting, but he nevertheless could see a strange mixture of surprise, unsureness, bliss and affection crossing the Gryffindor's face. Well, maybe he had been right with what he had told Weasley. This damn, blasted child actually might have forgiven him. Quickly he scowled at the boy to mask his own happiness.

"I'll manage." Came the boy's words and he nodded.

"Good." He growled, drawing a small smile from the Gryffindor with his growl and again he scowled. "Are you able to breathe easier?"

"Yes, sir." Was the answer.

"Good." He continued growling. "And your other injuries? How is your back doing?"

"It's fine, sir."

"Good. Then you might want to get up and take a shower." He suggested. "For once you will be the first one and have no reason complaining about an engaged bathroom."

"I never have complained about that."

"Just go and do as I say." The Potions Master groaned. "And keep your eyes closed. I will lead you to the bathroom."

"Uhm …"

"There is no need for an 'uhm', Potter." He said, taking the boy's upper arm and pulling him to the edge of the mattress. "You will keep your eyes closed or I will blindfold you, what I probably should do anyway. Get up carefully now."

Harry slowly got off the mattress, feeling Snape's hand shift to push against his back gently before leading him through the dungeons classroom, through the small hallway that led to the bathroom, the kitchen and the laboratory. He knew these three rooms rather well by now. He knew the Professor's office and the restroom behind the office too now. And then there was the classroom. Never before would he have thought that he one day would know the dungeons halls as well as he did right now.

"Be careful when stepping into the shower, Potter." Snape growled while leading him into the room. "I will dim the lights in here so you can try to open your eyes a bit. I won't have you wandering the bright hallway by your own however. You will call me if you are finished. I will be in my office and I will hear you."

"I'm sure it won't be a problem if I …"

"You will do as I say and keep your eyes closed, or you will find yourself blindfolded sooner than you can count to one, Potter." The Potions Master growled. "Your eyes are irritated and I won't risk anything. Your eyesight is bad enough as it is. I will start brewing a potion that might help calm your eyes. Until then you will do as I say. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Came the answer and he shook his head, blew out most of the candles and then left the boy to take a long shower that hopefully would relax him further.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Later, after everyone had gotten ready for the day and after their tea for 'breakfast' the Potions Master ordered them to sit onto the mattresses. He pulled one of the desks closer and took his seat on the desk's edge, facing the students that were sitting on the mats, some of them having wrapped their blankets around them, others leaning against the warm wall beside the mantelpiece. Yes, there really only were the cartons of milk missing for having a pre-school class instead of a bunch of fourth years that attended one of the best academic institutes the Britain wizarding world had to offer.

"Well." He started, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I wish you to be as comfortable as possible, so I suggest you all take your blankets. There still is the chapter I assigned you to read yesterday evening to discuss. So – the subject is open and you may start wherever you are ready."

"Well, according to chapter one, 'potions, their uses and their dangers', on the seventh year advanced potions book, Marvin Man Doran tried to find a potion that would heal every injury, never mind how bad it was. He succeeded, but only in theory, because whenever he tried to brew the potion, the cauldrons exploded in a rather dangerous way and he often got injured until he finally died in one of his attempts. Generally spoken, he has done what potions was for. He'd had a problem and he searched a solution for it. He created a healing potion in theory and then tried to brew it. He had it, the formula was correct he only had not been able brewing it because it had been too dangerous."

"Where do you know it from?" Dean Thomas asked, his brows furrowed. "You haven't been reading yesterday. You've been helping Professor Snape with Potter, if I'm right."

"I'm the Potions Master's godson, Thomas." Draco drawled and inwardly Snape cringed. That was not an information he would have given away. But it was too late now. "It would be rather embarrassing if I didn't know what was written in a chapter he assigned to you. And no, as you can see that I actually do know enough about potions, he does not play favours. There is no need for him to favour me as potions is one of my strong subjects."

The other students looked from Draco to him, Snape, startled, back to Draco and then back to him and he sighed. No, that really was no information he would have given away.

"Well, that makes Professor Snape a bit more human." Came from – Weasley! – and some of the Gryffindors nodded their heads, accepting the fact. But then his eyes fell onto Harry who's now open but squinting eyes tried to look at him with a startled expression on his face that not only bordered on hurt but that actually was hurt and the small Gryffindor pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them tightly, trying to protect himself while he seemed to struggle with tears.

"You seem to be under a false impression, Mr. Potter." Snape said, addressing the child, knowing what was going through that thick and dense head. "Just because Draco is my godson, it does not mean that I …"

"It doesn't matter, sir." Came the soft voice, interrupting him. "I understand."

"What exactly is it you understand, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, ignoring the confused gazes the other students threw between him and the boy.

"It isn't important, sir." Came the boy's answer and with a sigh he got up, went over to the Gryffindor and knelt in front of the child that looked simply miserable.

"Look at me, Harry." He said, placing one hand underneath the boy's chin, lifting his head so he had to look at him while at the same time he placed his other hand atop the boy's still squinting eyes, shielding them from the harsh light of the candles and he tried to read the boy's eyes that still were not their normal green but clouded. "It seems you do not understand, but how could you, child? You have had to share your aunt and uncle with your cousin and they clearly favoured him while at the same time they neglected and mistreated you. Of course you think it will be the same with Draco. But it won't. Draco is my godson, yes. But that does not mean that I will retreat from my offer. I told you, you won't go back to your relatives, and I meant it. I told you I would take you, and I meant it. I won't favour Draco, I won't act in the same way as your relatives have. I have promised you a home and I still mean it. Is that understood, Mr. Potter?"

"But …"

"There are no buts, Harry." Snape said, cutting him off. "I do know that it might be strange to you. And honestly? I do not know how I could make it clear to you right now, because I too have no answer to the reason I am offering you that home. I guess you simply will have to trust me on this and see. Are you ready to do so, child?"

There was a hesitant nod from the child in front of him, accompanied by turning an embarrassed face into the direction of his classmates and the Potion Master looked the class over too.

"I am sure that this kind of information revealed about Mr. Potter's relatives and his home life will not leave this room." He calmly said, addressing the class. "Otherwise you, all of you, will find yourself in quite some trouble. The same goes for any inappropriate remark one of you will make towards – or about – Mr. Potter. As I just said, I am about to take him in as my ward and everyone who hurts him, will have to answer me. And I am sure that that is something none of you will wish to experience. So do not even start to gossip."

He cast one last and long look at Potter before simply running his hand with which he had shielded the boy's eyes from the light of the candles down over his face, causing him to close his eyes again with the act.

"Keep them closed and allow yourself to trust an adult for once, Potter." He whispered harshly and then got up and went back to the desk he had been occupying before, sitting down onto its edge once again.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, you have been right. Marvin Man Doran invented an ultimate healing potion, but he never had been able to actually brew it. He died in his attempts and everyone who tried after him simply failed as much as Marvin Man Doran had. Nothing has changed since then. Potions simply is a dangerous subject."

"Malfoy often throws things in other people's cauldrons, but ne never got into trouble for it." Finnigan said.

"Believe me, Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Malfoy got into trouble often enough for this particular habit of his." Snape answered, throwing a serious look towards his godson. "I just do not punish the Slytherins openly. I do so in privacy, but believe me, Mr. Finnigan, their punishment is a lot harsher than is yours, what is the reason as to why I do so in privacy. They do not only face taken points or detention if they disappoint me."

"Oh." The boy made, looking over at the Slytherins with a pitying look in his eyes.

"Oh, indeed." Snape answered with his eyebrow lifted at the other boy. "I am ready to punish you in privacy too, if you prefer that, Mr. Finnigan, but believe me, your punishment then won't turn out as easy as it normally does. You might seem to think that I favour my house, and in the open I do, as no other teacher regards my students as they should be regarded. Believe me, however, I am even stricter and harsher towards them as I am towards you. And nevertheless they trust me, because they know I always am there for them."

"Yeah, because they're in your house. You're supposed to …"

"Could we stop this line of thought please?" Potter murmured, loud enough for all to hear. "There are no houses, remember?"

"Exactly." Snape said. "I apologize for starting it. Fact is, Draco actually got punished for his throwing habit – and he always will."

"Besides, I always know what I can throw so it wouldn't harm anyone, contraire to others who throw harmful things around the classroom because they don't know how they would react to the ingredients used." Draco threw in.

"What isn't an excuse, Mr. Malfoy." Snape reprimanded. "Potions is too dangerous a subject and not even you, as adept in potions as you might be, do know everything about them."

"Yes, sir." Came the blond boy's answer. "Sorry, sir."

"I do understand the chapter I read, but I just can't help messing up." Longbottom murmured and Snape actually had to strain his ears to understand him. "I just get so nervous and then things happen."

The Potions Master regarded him with a long look and then nodded.

"You are rather good at herbology and care of magical creatures, aren't you?" He then asked, his dark eyes piercing the teen.

"Yes, sir." Was the answer. "Herbology is my favourite subject."

"Did you ever consider that herbology and care of magical creatures both is the substructure to Potions, Mr. Longbottom, Neville?"

"Uhm … well … yes, somehow." Neville said, gazing at him, startled at the use of his given name, just as Ronald Weasley had done in the morning. "But then … I don't know … somehow I always fear I might make a mistake and then the mistake happens."

"Maybe you would profit from simply reminding yourself that you cannot be completely inept at potions if you are capable of handling plants and animals. Maybe you will be able reminding yourself that you are capable of brewing a potion correctly with your background knowledge in both subjects in future each time you enter my classroom. It might work, Neville."

"I will try, sir." Longbottom said with much more confidence than he had seen coming from this boy in the past. "Thank you, sir."

"You are welcome." He said. "It is just for my own sake. It might safe me the trouble of having you exploding cauldron over cauldron during my classes." He smirked.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It had been a conversation so unlike Snape and his classroom, it nearly had been funny sometimes, but they all had seen a bit more, had seen a glimpse behind the subject, behind the Slytherins – or Gryffindors, depending on who was considering the discussion, and last but not least, behind the Potions Master, and all of them had stayed rather relaxed.

And right now Snape was sitting behind his desk, writing down the newest happenings, writing down the ingredients he had used to brew the potion he intended to use on Potter's eyes. He was sure that no long lasting damage had been done to the boy's eyes. At least he hoped. They just hurt when he moved them, when he closed or opened them or whenever they were exposed to the open air and light, the boy still could not see, he still could not make out forms, shapes or colors, but he could distinguish light and dark and he hoped that it would get better with the potion. It would be finished in the evening, and then he would see.

Looking over to the boy he noticed that Harry still was sitting with his knees hugged toward his chest, in a self protecting manner, and he was sure that somehow the boy was having flashbacks. He hadn't taken the information that Draco was his godson very well. Understandable.

Potter definitely had felt it too, the bond that had started to enfold between them. The smile he had shown him this morning, as small and as short as it had been, had been proof to that. Harry too knew that there was something between the two of them, even if he might not understand what this bond meant.

Hell, he himself didn't understand it completely yet. So how could a child, a fourth year, understand it?

Now however – Potter feared that Draco might be that what his cousin had been to him and he feared that he, Snape, might be that what his uncle had been to him. Maybe – and really just maybe – he might know that he wouldn't beat him. But there it already stopped. He was sure that the boy didn't even believe that he never would starve him, that he never would abuse him verbally, and that he never would harm him. Potter never had learned what it meant to have an adult around that actually cared, that worried, tried to help and cared, one that didn't abuse his powers. Of course he didn't understand.

He actually would have to show him what it meant. He actually would have to teach him what it meant. And the boy actually would have to learn what it meant. It wouldn't be easy, he knew it. The boy wouldn't believe him for a long time, maybe even never. Maybe those fears, the fears of being beaten, of being starved and abandoned were ingrained so deeply in his mind that he never would learn that he, Snape, always stood to his word, that he never would abandon a student of him and surely not his ward, never mind how annoying this student or his ward could be.

Merlin help him, but Draco often enough had annoyed the hell out of him – and nevertheless he never had abandoned him, and surely he never would.

Looking over at the child again he realized that maybe it was time to take the first step and with a sigh he got off the chair he sat in and went over to him. Potter only would either open his eyes if he called him over or he would stumble blindly through the classroom and hurt himself. He went down onto one knee in front of the Gryffindor who must have felt or heard his presence as he lifted his head.

"Don't even think of opening your eyes, Potter." He warned before the boy could even think of doing so. "I have a few things to discuss with you and want you to accompany me into my office." He said, helping the boy up and steering him towards the open door and into his – private space.

It wasn't so private anymore however. He always kept the door open meanwhile allowing his students in his office too, knowing that sometimes they simply needed to be in another room than just the classroom. He also allowed them to linger in the kitchen or the hallways, as long as they behaved. It really had become a small suit to them. He only kept the restroom off limits, reserved for emergencies only, so a student could have some privacy there if needed.

The strange thing about this entire situation was – he didn't mind as much as he had feared he would mind in the beginning. In the beginning he had been sure he would go crazy soon if they were not rescued within the day. But now? As strange as it was, he wasn't about to go crazy. He didn't enjoy it overly, but he didn't mind either. It was day six now since their imprisonment, but the children behaved rather well and they actually were rather reasonable, most of the time at least, and most of them at least.

There had been a few tears, a few complaints about being hungry or tired, about the need to get out and have sunlight and fresh air, about the lack of physical activities, but that had been all. They were able to distract themselves with games like answering questions, 'seven lost' and studying or other such things.

Steering the boy to the sofa and pushing him down into the cushions he blew out a few of the candles and then sat down beside him.

"You can open your eyes a bit if you like." He said. "I have dimmed the light. Do so slowly nevertheless."

He watched Harry opening his eyes, wincing at the pain it caused and he sighed. He had hoped that by now it had gotten better a bit.

"You may close them at any point you want, Harry." He said. "I just wanted to have a few words with you." The boy nodded at him.

"Good." He continued, suddenly feeling very awkward. "I just wanted to ask … well, on Saturdays I have tea with Draco and I thought … well, maybe you want to accompany us." He finally said, annoyed at his own hesitant words. He was Severus Snape, for Merlin's sake, and Severus Snape didn't hesitate. Severus Snape said what he had to say – always! But well, Severus Snape never had been in such a situation either, he had to admit that.

"That would be …" The boy started happily before his face fell and he averted his eyes. "I mean, I don't know if …"

"What did I tell you, child?" The Potions Master said, placing his hand underneath the boy's chin and turning his head so he had to look at him. "I told you that as my ward you will be treated the same as Draco. I won't force you of course, neither do I force Draco, but I would welcome it if you attended our Saturday tea. I had not asked you, if I would not wish for your company. So no, you won't disturb us."

"Oh …" Potter made unsurely. "Ok …"

"Good." The older wizard said. "Aside from those afternoons, maybe you would like visiting me once or twice a week for private meetings? No remedial potions and no added defence lessons, just private conversations, playing chess or anything else, for dinner." He quickly added at the boy's face and it indeed brightened at his words again. "Just the two of us."

"Yes, that would be great, I guess." Potter answered a curious expression on his face, or a startled one, he couldn't quite name it. Probably the boy wasn't sure what had made him answering so enthusiastic, or he wasn't sure why he had suggested it at all and his next words proved his thoughts.

"It won't be like detention, will it?"

"It won't, I promise." He confirmed. "It will be just an evening during the week to get to know each other better, an evening or two once a week to deepen the bond that already has formed between us."

"The bond?" The boy asked, closing his eyes, wincing with the movement but then greedily and tiredly sinking back into the cushions of the sofa.

"A relationship between two persons also is called a bond." He explained. Of course the boy didn't know what to do with the term as he never had formed a bond aside from the friendship he had with Weasley and Granger – Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, he reminded himself, again. "A bond can be between a child and a parent, between siblings, between friends or between two persons who wish to – like the muggles would say – marry. A bond simply is a deep relationship between two or more persons, concerning what kind of bond it is."

"But … you surely wouldn't … I mean …"

Lowering his head to one side and watching the teenager close he could see him struggling for words, running his hand through the messy mop of black hair, messing it up even more. "You see, I mean, I know you said you didn't hate me. But you never liked me either. And I don't understand … I mean … how … I just don't understand."

"Of course you do not." Snape said. "I do not understand it fully by myself. I think we both just have to accept that it is. During the past six days we have started a bond. We can of course ignore it, but I do see no sense in ignoring a bond as it only would bring misery on both parts. You cannot normally go against a bond as it is a natural thing we have no control over. I for my part do not wish to go against a bond as it is a thing that is older than our wizarding society."

"Oh … ok." The teen made. "I guess we can try."

"I am glad you do." Snape drawled in his typical Snape-manner. "I however also wanted to tell you that I am proud of you. You have handled Mr. Weasley's apology rather well. I would not have wondered if you had not accepted his apology at all."

Weasley had approached the boy shortly after their discussion and he had watched the scene close, ready to intervene if things got out of hands, what had not happened.

Flashback

"Harry?" Weasley approached his friend unsurely, keeping some space to Potter. "May I … I mean … I just wanted to say sorry. I … I didn't mean to hurt you … I …"

"Then why have you?" Harry asked, accusation audible in his voice. "You have hurt me. And not only physically. I mean, we've been friends, haven't we?"

"Yes." Weasley fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "I know. But … I just was so … I thought you had … I mean …"

"You've been jealous!" Harry accused bitterly. "Know what? I don't know why. You know that the Dursleys hated me. I never might have told you all of it, but you knew they hated me. You knew I never was welcomed by them. And you knew they never were a family to me. So I don't know why you would be jealous of me. You have a family, a great one, one that loves you. You heard Professor Snape. And yes, it's true. So you know what? You can have them. If that's what you're jealous about, you can have them."

"I didn't mean that." Weasley said, nearly growled and he could see Harry tensing. He scowled and placed the quill aside, ready to get up and over to the two.

"Then what did you mean, Ronald Weasley?" Harry asked. "That I'm famous? You know what? You can have that too. I'd be glad to get rid of it. You can have it. You knew I hate all the attention. You knew I hate all the famous 'the boy who lived thing'. I hate the fact that I'm called the saviour of the wizarding world. You can have it all, I don't want to carry this with me anyway. Maybe you don't know how much of a burden it is. You take it for a time and try to carry it."

"No, I didn't mean that either. I knew that you …"

"Then what?" Harry asked. "What exactly were you jealous of? Maybe the fact that I tried to get along with everyone? Think, Ron. We're down here since six days now and we don't know how much longer we'll be here. Would you like being down here while being on the warpath? Would you like being down here while arguing with the Slytherins? Would you like being here with that much animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin? I for my part do not want this. We're one house right now, or no house. You may take it like the one on the roof and he has taken a hold so he won't fall down. I do not care. I for my part do want to have a bit of peace and freedom while we're here. And this way we have, all of us. You either accept it or you can piss off."

He lifted his eyebrow at the Gryffindor's speech. He hadn't known that the boy had it within him to actually tell someone off like this and he actually had to lower his head so no one would see his smirk.

End flashback

Weasley had gotten pale, but he had accepted it and he had apologized. Harry had accepted it, but he had warned him to not pull such a stunt ever again and Weasley had promised not to. So – right now everything seemed to be as fine as it could be within this situation and he was glad about it.

Well, Potter's lungs had not been affected too much by the exploding potion, they had three more batches of nutrient potion, the conflict between Potter and Weasley was solved and in an hour the potion for the boy's eyes would be finished. So – all in all – it was a rather good day up to now. He only hoped that it would stay like this.