Previously in twenty-one days

And then there was silence in the potions classroom that was their prison since eight days now, that would be their prison for only Merlin knew how much longer, that maybe would be their prison until death, but that – at the same time – had become some kind of heaven to them too, because here, in this unlikeliest of all places, they had found family, friends and comfort, here, where they never would have expected to find such.

Chapter fifteen

Day nine

Tuesday, tenth of September

Lifting his eyebrow Severus Snape noticed that finally the boy stirred underneath his blanket, finally waking up.

Well, it had been late last night, and well, he had woken them all last night, given them a real fright, but well, they had called for it and in the end of it they all had been able to laugh about it, the soft snickers being heard for longer than an hour only and he had known that most of them would sleep for a bit longer than normally this morning. Or that they would lay down and sleep at one point or another during the day.

Flashback

Harry, Theodore and Draco had just fallen asleep finally and with a smirk he slowly got off the mattress, ventured into his laboratory. With determined steps he went over to one of his shelves and then took two vials from one of the higher racks, having had his idea already formed in his head throughout the day.

It was an evil plan, and he knew it, one that would startle them out of their pants, but first, he knew he would be able to keep them from panicking, second, it would be a shock, yes, but a good diversion they would be able to laugh about long after and third – well, they had asked for it and he would have a bit of fun.

Casting one last gaze back at the children he smirked, pocketed one of the vials and then dropped the other one before quickly leaving the laboratory and closing the door behind him. Well, none of the children had woken upon the vial breaking on the stony ground.

"Which imbecile of you was that?" He asked, his voice booming in the silence of the semi-dark classroom and one child after another woke, sitting up, startled and rubbing their eyes.

"What?" Draco asked, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes.

"Was what?" Ronald asked, trying to get awake too.

"Me not." Came Gregory's voice immediately.

"Which of you imbeciles has destroyed my potions laboratory?" He asked, folding his arms in front of his chest, glowering angrily at them. "My entire potions laboratory, not to mention, each vial and each potion within – destroyed!"

"Blaze!" Neville gasped in shock. "You weren't supposed to really do it! Are you mad?"

"What?" Came the startled voice from Blaze. "But … but that wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Ah, Mr. Zabini!" He growled, using the boy's surname. "And Mr. Longbottom has known about it! Planned it together, haven't you?"

"What? NO!" Both boy's declared at once.

"Sir, listen, that surely is a misunder- …"

"Do not tell me that this might be a misunderstanding, Mr. Zabini." He growled. "You can be lucky if the smoke from the mixed up potions won't get in here through the gap underneath the door to the laboratory!"

"Oh, oh …" Ronald made, his gaze at the door underneath which white smoke slowly filled in into the classroom.

"But that … that was not meant to happen …" Blaze still murmured under his breath.

"That smoke won't be dangerous, will it?" Lavender asked, her voice frightened.

"What do you think, Lavender?" Hermione asked back at the girl. "Potions mixed together can be anything from poisonous to …"

"You haven't been hurt, sir?" Came Harry's small voice, the boy's green eyes large on him and he sighed, knowing that he wasn't able to startle them any longer, not with Harry fearing more about his, Snape's, safety than his own …

"Of course not, you silly child!" He growled, reaching into his robe.

"Well, if I am correct, then this here …" He held up the second vial he had taken from the shelf. "Is nothing else than simple – fog." He said, letting the vial drop to the floor where it broke with a soft clinking sound, releasing fog that softly swirled above the ground and spread through the classroom, causing some of the students to give a startled scream away and others to flinch back startled. "Had it not been your part, Mr. Zabini, to wake me?" He then asked with a smirk, causing the children to finally understand and as strange as it was, at the relieved faces around him he was relieved as well. "And to inform me of my destroyed laboratory? As it seemed, I was a bit quicker than you."

End flashback

Well, he had been right and they had laughed long after that. At first they had laughed with relief, but then they had laughed because of the fact that the snarky, cold and evil dungeons bat had played a prank on them, and successfully so, and after that they had laughed at the smoke that wavered through the classroom, casting them all into a white fog that made their voices sounding kind of hollow and their outlines kind of wavering. And – as startling as it had been for him – he had laughed together with them. Softly only, but he had laughed with them.

He only had cleaned up the shards of the broken bottle so neither of them would be hurt the next morning when getting off their 'beds' without thinking of the shards and then he had gone back to them, sitting beside Harry who circled his hand within the smoke trying to get the fog into circles as well.

It had taken a long time until the last one had been settled back to sleep, but honestly, who cared? They didn't have a timetable down here, they didn't have to follow classes and they didn't have to get up at a precise time. They could sleep all day long to be awake in the nights if they so wished. They, in fact, didn't even know for sure what time of the day it was, only the candles indicating that it was either night or day as they shone brighter during daytime and gave just a soft light away during the nighttimes.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Any longer, and I was going to drop a bucket of cold water on your head, Mr. Potter." The Potions Master said, sitting at his desk, his eyebrow lifted, but Harry could hear the humour behind his voice and so he simply turned onto his back without really sitting up and rubbing his fists over his eyes to get rid of the sleepiness he still felt while he yawned tiredly.

"I can think of worse ways to wake up." He admitted softly, unable to keep himself from thinking of his uncle.

A soft growl made him looking up at the Potions Master and he could see Snape's eyes narrowing at him with barely concealed anger. He immediately felt another burst of guilt for causing the man to feel angry, even if it was only on his behalf. Just like he had felt the guilt while writing the letter last night.

The letter!

Snape had led him to the mattress, had made him lie down, the man surely had not …

Shoving the blanket off his body and shivering in the cold morning air of the dungeons he quickly got up and went to the desk he had been sitting at, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process.

There it lay!

Still atop the desk he'd been sitting at!

Upon coming closer however, he could see that the handwriting was not his own but one he distinctly knew from his potions essays, the spidery handwriting from his Potions Professor, and he groaned.

If Snape had written him a letter, then the man surely had read his, Harry's.

'Dear foolish child, son,' he read and he actually had to sit down at the chair because his knees suddenly felt strangely as if he had been hit with a jelly leg jinx. Son! Snape had written son! Snape was no one who would write 'son' to anyone if he did not mean it! He was sure of that! But he had written son!

Daring a quick glance into the direction the man had been sitting in, at his own desk, he noticed Snape still sitting there, watching him with a face that seemed harsh and dark, but that seemed to hold … as strange as it sounded, but it was a face that held some kind of fear and insecurity too.

Could it be that the Professor was as unsure as was he? That he was afraid of being rejected just as was he?

Gazing back at the parchment he couldn't help reading the first line once more before going on with reading the entire letter, not knowing that he acted the same way than the Potions Master had acted the night before, reading the greeting again before reading the entire letter, and soon he was sitting there, smiling at the well known snarky comments the man even in his writing – or especially in his writing – always made.

'Dear foolish child, son,

As you are presently asleep, and – I am sure of this – unlikely to wake up enough to listen closely to my words if I were to wake you now so I could speak to you in person, I deemed it expedient to put this information into writing. You can then show it to Miss Granger, who will – no doubt – be able to define all the words over three syllables for your benefit.

It certainly is not ridiculous to write down your emotions and your innermost thoughts and even if I might not be one for sentimentalities, it without doubt neither is ridiculous doing so while addressing me.

With your usual efficiency however, you have managed to waste nearly an hour of my time in answering your idiotic letter and in disabusing your notion that anything of this would be your fault what is the idiotic part in the first place and I really would ask to inquire whether you were truly believing all of what you have been composing in this stubborn head of yours. Hopefully there will be no need to tell you that if I hear – or read – of an instance in which you decry yourself like this ever again, be assured that you will become acquainted with deep regrets sooner than later – assuming you are not already dead by then as this letter of yours certainly was not meant to be read by me while you being still alive. I am however glad that I did read this letter of yours at the present time as I this way am able to provide you with an answer while you are still breathing.

If it comes to the issue of guilt, then most certainly I do blame your aunt and uncle without a shadow of a doubt, for mistreating a child as their treatment of you was nothing short of criminal and they should be brought to court and punished for not only child neglect but child abuse and attempted murder as well. I also will have to accept blame here on my own part as well, because I did not see the signs of abuse with you while I am capable of seeing them with the students in my house. Instead I have allowed my wrong view of you to – and here I will repeat myself – act according to this view, to allow this picture to rule over my emotions and therefore to dictate my actions towards you, for what I once again apologize. I however also do blame the wizarding world in general, as its burden simply neither is yours to carry in the first place nor were you able to carry it alone at all. The burden of a society does belong on the shoulders of several adult individuals, not one small foolish child.

The only mistake you have made is that you did not ask for assistance. Do not misinterpret my words, child, as I do not blame you for this – in the contrary. I am able to understand your reasons for keeping this information to yourself, but you nevertheless should have asked for assistance. You declared you trusted me, even back before we were locked in the potions classroom and now I truly would like to know if you actually believe I would have turned you away had you confided in me. And if not in me, then why not in the headmaster as he loves you as if you were his own.

And do not trouble yourself by trying to persuade yourself that you did not know how the headmaster felt towards you, you foolish child, as I am sure you realized this on your own. You are far too intelligent for not having realized that.

Concerning you being in the house of Salazar Slytherin – would it have made a difference if you had been sorted into my house?

A very good question, child. I definitely would have known about your circumstances at home within the first week and I might have had more reason – and freedom – to tread you as I should have treated you, what I regret deeply. But would I actually have done things differently? I do not know this and I only can hope I had.

Furthermore, even if you might have lost the friendship of Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, you would have had not just allies but friends as well in Slytherin.

Your thanks towards me is noted and accepted, but unnecessary. I however accept your gratitude for the comfort I tried to give, but I refuse to be thanked for treating your injuries and I will remind you that you are perfectly entitled to common human decency, even if I do know you are entirely too accustomed to your most basic needs going unheeded. I do accept your thanks in the spirit they were offered however. Your apology on the other hand is disregarded as I already told you that none of this is your fault.

For your acknowledgement of my worries, I express my own thanks, even if you are worrying needlessly. What I have offered towards you, I offered by my own free will and loath as I am to admit, I do like you and I do care about you, deeply.

Your still present reluctance about me finding out your precise situation is just as ridiculous as is your self-blame, although as silly as your apprehensions were, you had some reasons for them. I on the other hand am especially thankful that I actually did find out as this knowledge offered me a second chance which I intend to take opportunity of. I also am pleased that I have given you hope and a reason to fight as it will be necessary to survive this situation and I am glad that my offer actually made you – happy.

I furthermore wish to thank you for your consideration with regards to the matter you expressed during your silly game today.

Note however that you indeed are a perfectly normal child, even if a foolish one, that you have not been bad and – I will tell you a thousand times more if the need will arise – the abuse your uncle bestowed upon you has not been punishments but simple child abuse what is considered a crime. None of this had been your fault and neither are you weak, you foolish child. You are indeed exceptionally strong, considering that you are not only in a situation like ours since a week like your class-mates but since three month now, and worse, and still you are alive, still you own the ability to feel affection, still you own the ability to forgive and to trust, and still you own the ability to accept being adopted by your old and grumpy Potions Professor. And most importantly, still you own the ability to have hope, hence I am honoured to call that insolent, insufferable, irresponsible, impossible, intolerable, inept, idiotic, reckless, thoughtless, silly, stupid, unspeakable, and foolish little brat that is you, my son, as much as this thought causes me a headache.

For that reason, please know that your words of greeting in this foolish letter of yours, the meaning and your emotions behind them will be treated with the greatest of care and value. It does mean a great deal to me that you would address me with such a title yet that shows how much trust you already set into my person.

Severus, your father'

He couldn't help but pressing the parchment he held in still trembling fingers close to his chest for a moment while casting another glance towards the man that had written those words, words he knew were words of affection and care and pride even, even though they were written in the typical snarky way that was the Potions Master's.

The man cared!

He had it written here on this parchment!

And the man was proud about him!

That too stood here on this parchment! In the man's handwriting!

Snape cared! And he was proud that he, Harry, was his son!

Well, at lest something along those lines.

Foolish child! Foolish child he had called him! But honestly, he even liked it! Somehow it made this all so much more … real, somehow. Snape was the first one who portrayed him as a child. And as a foolish child no less! Every other one only ever had expected things of him that had been too much or too difficult for him, but Snape had acknowledged him as a child.

Maybe he should have been angry. Maybe he should have stamped with his food and declared that he wasn't a child anymore. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to doing this. It was – somehow kind of nice, knowing that there was just one person who just saw him as a child, as a simple child and not as the saviour of the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Or the boy who wouldn't die.

In one point Snape was right. He should be dead already, after not only a week down here with barely something to eat but with after ten weeks with the Dursleys too, being starved and beaten and used as a slave by them, being … well, he better didn't think about that and he just better ensured that Snape never found out about that either. The Professor would be so mad then. Or probably so disgusted at him. And he didn't want to risk that.

"If I had known that reading this letter would make you gloomy, then I would have drawn a comic parchment, child." He heard Snape's voice from behind him and turned his head to look up at the man who placed his cloak around his shoulders.

"Thank you." He whispered, not sure if he meant the letter or the cloak.

"You are welcome." Snape answered, not sure if he meant the letter or the cloak.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"What do you have there, Harry?" Ron asked, and honestly, it was a reasonable question as he was sitting there, reading the letter Snape had written him – for probably the tenth time this morning.

Lifting his eyebrow Harry folded his arms and cast a serious glance at Ron.

"My, my, Mr. Weasley! Are we curious today, aren't we?" He asked, smirking at the other boy.

Well, Harry's mimicking of Professor Snape was almost perfect, except from the sneer - he just couldn't sneer as professionally as Snape could. Yet, it obviously was enough to startle Ron and he couldn't help snickering at the horror on the other boy's face. His snickering however got lost the moment he noticed the redhead boy casting his eyes at a point behind him, his face getting even more horrified and slowly he turned – to find Snape standing behind him, his arms folded in front of his chest and his left eyebrow lifted while those dark eyes pierced him seriously as the older wizard glanced down at him.

"My, my, Mr. Potter! Are we cheeky today, aren't we?" The Potions Professor said in that smooth, velvet and shiver inducing voice and he couldn't help gulping for a moment before he noticed the smile that threatened to tuck at the corners of the man's mouth.

"Uhm … well … no …" He answered, feeling nervous nevertheless. Never mind if he got along with the potions professor pretty well now, and never mind if he trusted the man with everything, or at least nearly everything, meanwhile, never mind if he even had started to like the man – he couldn't deny that Snape simply was a person that could be very, very, frightening if he so wished. "I just wanted to know how you felt when doing this, being so … well … dunno …" He said, lifting his head to look at the man that soon would be his father.

Snape barely could keep his face straight and himself from smirking at the boy. He had seen him reading the letter he had written him in answer to the boy's for at least ten times this morning and he didn't know if he should feel happy about Harry being so happy about this letter or if he should feel worried about the fact that a fourteen year old child would read a letter he had gotten from him every fifteen or twenty minutes.

Narrowing his eyes at the boy when he lifted his head to look up at him he reached out and gripped the child's chin, reminding himself to use slow movements, and he lifted the boy's head a bit more upon noticing a bruise that ran down Harry's chin and neck, noticing the pale face paling even more.

Shoving the collar of the boy's shirt aside a bit to have a closer look he nearly growled.

"How, Mr. Potter, did you get this one?" He asked angrily when he saw the extent of the bruising, reaching the boy's shoulder even and he fixed the boy with a stern gaze.

"I … well, I … I fell." Harry answered, blinking at him nearly frightened and he reminded himself that he had a child in front of him that had been abused for all his life. "In the bathroom."

"And you did not think to inform me that you are hurt?" He asked, lowering himself to Harry's level, still holding his chin in his hand so he had no choice but to face him and still looking into the startled green eyes. "And do not tell me that this is 'nothing' and that you are 'fine'." He quietly said. "I have already learned that you could have fallen off your broom, been attacked by ten death eaters and a dragon at the same time and have a temperature of 107 – and you still would answer that you were - 'fine'."

"Didn'wanyouworrying." Harry said

"I beg your pardon?" Severus lifted his eyebrow at the blushing boy that tried to avert his eyes. "Could you please repeat this a bit slower so I actually will be able to understand you?"

"Well …" Harry started, taking a deep breath, the blush deepening. "I just … I didn't want you worrying."

The Potions Master just lifted his eyebrow at Harry and gave him a look that clearly said 'we will talk later', a look Harry knew all too well after three years of attending Hogwarts and after more than a week down here with the Potions Master so close, and then he got up and went towards his laboratory to get the healing balm he had used on the boy's injuries earlier during their captivity, when he had learned of the child being abused.

Of course it was no wonder that he downplayed everything. That particular child had endured worse than a simple bruise caused by falling in the bathroom and hitting his shoulder and chin on either the sink or the shower. Of course he would think this was 'nothing' and that he was 'fine' even if being bruised like that. It was not a broken bone and there was no blood flowing after all.

And even then, he doubted that the boy would take it as seriously as would any other child.

Coming back he found Harry still sitting at the table where he had left him and with a sigh he noticed how miserable the boy looked, Draco Theodore and Neville still sitting with him, looking rather worried.

"Your shirt." He simply said upon reaching the table and at the startled look the teen regarded him with, he immediately knew the problem. "I – right now – do not really care about your dignity, Mr. Potter." He said, leaning his hands onto the table in front of the boy, leaning close. Then still looking at him he continued talking to the other children. "I am sure that neither you will judge your friend because of what his … aunt and uncle had done to him." For a moment he had been about to say 'his relatives', but he wanted to make sure that they knew exactly who it had been that had abused the boy that was to become his son soon. The potion was nearly finished after all. Tomorrow morning or tomorrow evening at the latest he would be ready to adopt Harry as his son. "And neither do I, Harry." He added, back to talking to his son alone.

Harry reluctantly opened his shirt and shoved it off his shoulder, revealing skin he knew was scarred horribly, looked around at the faces of his friends and of his teacher. He expected to see pity, but all he saw was concern, caring and understanding. They weren't angry or upset with him. They didn't think he was worthless, or that somehow it was his fault that he had been abused.

He also remembered when he used to get sick at the Dursley's, or when he got injured by their hands, and how they would have left him in his cupboard until he was better and if he was lucky he would be let out to use the bathroom, or how he would have to work even if he was injured while neither of them cared for his injuries. They never would give him anything that would help him get better. But Snape did. Snape made him feeling better, getting better.

Maybe he really could get through all of this and put the Dursley's behind him after all!

"And you, young man." Snape got him out of his thoughts with applying the salve over the bruises. "In future time I expect you to inform me of any injuries, bruises or similar things you are so eagerly collecting throughout the day as if they were points to collect, never mind how small those injuries might be."

"Even if I just cut my finger?" He couldn't help asking.

"Even if you just cut your finger." The Potions Master growled at him. "Because knowing you, a simple cut will have to be deep enough for the finger to be cut off until you declare it as serious enough to seek out my help."

"That's not fair." Harry pointed out. "It's not as if I do this intentionally. I do not particularly seek out trouble."

"I never said I was fair." Snape smirked before closing the jar and then disposing it at the table beside the boy, regarding him with another serious gaze, causing the child to sigh. "But somehow I have the distinct feeling that trouble finds you at every turn you take."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You do know that this is a knight, Harry?" Draco asked, blinking in confusion.

"Of course I know. And my knight is kicking your jack of hearts into the backside." Harry laughed lightly and Severus again wondered how the boy was doing this, laughing in their situation, infecting all of them with this as Draco and Theodore were laughing as well. Even Ronald was snickering and Neville was smiling while some of the girls were sitting around them, shaking their heads.

Well, he had to admit, a knight beating a jack of hearts – he never before had heard of such, even if the knight was just an empty vial that once had held a dreamless sleep potion.

"Alright – Mr. Harry." Draco smirked. "In this case, my ace of spades will take your queen."

"Damn!" Harry growled out, as if he couldn't have twisted the rules, and he took his queen – that was a vial that had held an anti-cramping potion once – and placed it in the midst of the table, to the jack of hearts Draco had lost, to the vial that had been a painkiller once and was now a rock, and to other cards they had made of parchments – and lost throughout their – wicked game.

Well, he already had forgotten the 'rules' of this particular 'game', which had been made up only minutes before, which were still being made up while they were playing. But – as long as they did play – he didn't care, honestly.

"Alright, Mr. Draco." Harry smirked. "I hope you have not played out your best cards and figures, because I … am holding the king of hearts in my hands – that will take your bishop."

"You can't take his bishop." Hermione threw in, obviously the girl did remember the rules. "Not with the king of hearts at least."

"Why not?" Harry asked, while Draco smirked satisfied.

"Because you earlier have declared that a king can only beat cards, not chess pieces." Hermione said, shaking her head as if she couldn't understand that Harry didn't remember.

"Oh." Harry made, with a face that showed surprise and some lack of understanding, even looked apologetic. "Sorry."

"You're losing, Mr. Harry." Draco smirked. "You're looooooosinggg."

"Never – you … oh … I fear you're right, I'm losing." The boy sighed upon looking at his mixture of parchment and vials.

"Why are you looking at me like this, Ron?" Hermione asked. "I'm right, his king can't beat the chess pieces."

"Uhm … well … what? No! I mean … I just …" Ronald's voice sounded as if …

Leaning closer the boy whispered something into the girl's ear and he, Snape, frowned while taking a new sheet of parchment. Of course he knew that it wasn't necessary, double-checking the potion he had brewed. But it wasn't a too common potion and he was about to give it to his son soon, to Harry soon, and he simply wasn't ready to take any risks. The boy was ill enough without a potion that was not brewed 100% correctly.

"What?" Hermione asked startled before turning towards Ronald. "You like me?"

"Shhh!" The boy made, looking at the others sheepishly. "Well, yeah, you're … um … well, a girl, you know?" The red head stumbled out, blushing, and he, Snape, groaned at the Gryffindor boldness and stupidity the boy just had displayed.

"Honestly, Weasley, that's the best you can do?" Draco asked huffing and shaking his head. "I'm sure Hermione already knew that she's a girl even without your information."

Harry leaned over to Draco, whispering something into the other boy's ear, laughing, placing his arms onto the table and his head atop the arms, barely able to breathe while still laughing and he was sure the boy would have tears of laugher running down his face if he lifted his head.

Not sure if the boy was alright and simply amused about something or if he finally had snapped and lost it, Snape got off his chair and went over to the group of children. Honestly, the situation was severe enough and honestly, the boy had successfully blocked out their situation so far, trying to do his best in distracting the others.

"Is there anything – I should be aware of?" He smoothly asked, his eyebrow lifted, trying to look as cold and collected as always while at the same time he couldn't keep the worry out of his gaze he attended Harry with and he knew it.

"It's … it's nothing, sir." Draco said, quietly laughing too. "Harry … Harry was just … just laughing … about … something he thought."

"And just what exactly were you thinking about?" Snape drawled in a silky whisper, his dark eyes going from one boy to the other.

Harry's face went bright red this time instead of just blushing and the boy shivered, trying to hide his face within his hands but Snape instantly stopped him, his dark eyes staring at him before he couldn't help chuckling and he knew that Harry knew that he knew.

"Hmm … as intriguing as that might be for you to think about, Mr. Potter, I strongly suggest you do not finish this particular thought." His eyes narrowed on him for a moment before he smirked. "It appears that you are long overdue for a discussion about – sex. Perhaps you and I should have a serious talk tonight before bedtime."

He heard the boy groaning and saw him hanging his head and his smirk deepened. As it seemed the boy was more than just frustrated over the fact that he actually had been saying this in front of Draco and the others.

"No." The boy croaked out in a frustrated voice. "Please, dear Merlin, no." He nearly whimpered out. Snape however turned towards his godson as he heard Draco laughing hysterically.

"Mr. Malfoy, I would cease laughing if I were you – unless … you wish me to give you that same talk for a second time." Draco instantly went silent, trying to suppress the last remnants of his snickering.

Well, he knew that it was not nice of him to torture children like this, but well – it just came naturally to him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"And you really thing Professor Snape will manage?" Harry asked in a whispered voice.

"Dunno, but it's worth a try." Theodore answered, whispering back just as quietly as Harry had. Most of the others were sleeping, in fact, only Hermione was sitting on her mattress, reading her transfiguration book which she probably had read about five times meanwhile.

"Just imagine, the dungeons bat playing marriage broker, you'll never see this!" Harry quietly snorted.

"Well, he's about to form a family with you, why not getting others together as a family as well?" Theodore asked, smiling.

"Well, that's different." Harry smiled back at the other boy, wondering how quickly they all had become friends. "You know, whatever will happen with us down here, it definitely caused one good thing."

"That you got a father?"

"Yeah."

"You're really happy about this, aren't you?"

"Definitely!" Harry said, leaning his head back against the wall. "I do not really care what will happen, because I have a father now, and because it will be Professor Snape. You know, never before had I thought that I would like him one day, but I actually do. So – if I die, I'll die as a son, I'll die being loved and I'll die having someone who cares."

"Hey, shut up!" Theodore hissed angrily. "You won't die down here and neither will anyone else. One more talks about you not caring if you died and I will tell the Professor what you said!"

"No need to tell, I have already heard it all." A soft voice came from beside them, a soft shadow falling over them and instantly Harry stopped laughing, his face paling significantly fast even if the Potions Master had thought it would not be possible for the child to get any paler than he already was.

Snape had been leaving the shadows, was now standing in the soft light of the one candle that was burning during the night, his dark eyes glowering down at the children, his arms crossed in front of his chest, just as scary as ever.

"Merlin!" Harry murmured under his breath while Snape's eyes were piercing into him. "Uhm … well … I was kidding?" He suggested hopefully.

"Into my office, both of you." Severus Snape ordered in a curt voice, turning sharply on his heels and Harry pulled himself up, scrambled behind him into the office with Theodore in his trail, knowing that he was in really deep trouble now.

"Sit!" The dark clad, older wizard ordered and both boys immediately obeyed. "Well?" He then asked.

He was not overly enthusiastic hearing his son talking about not caring if he died and he wanted to get this notion out of the boy's head right now and here.

"Well … Hermione and Ron." Harry said taking his cue and for a moment he furrowed his brows, not understanding what those two had to do with Harry declaring that he wouldn't care if he died.

"Well, you're the only one …" Theodore began.

"Who'll be able to make them realize …" Harry interrupted.

"Why exactly they're always fighting …"

"It's only because they're in love."

"And you're the only one they'll listen too …"

"Because you're usually blunt enough to say what you think …"

"And scary enough to make them listening …"

"So, if you say it …"

"Then maybe they'll realize …"

"Stop this infuriating taking turns in speaking like those blasted and damnable Weasley twins, the both of you, immediately!"

"That they love each other." Harry and Theodore said at the same time and Snape raised an eyebrow, obviously amused by their statement.

"And you want me to do something about it?" He simply asked.

"Yes sir." Harry nodded his head.

"Why should I do such a stupid thing?" The older wizard demanded, shaking his head.

"They'll stop arguing in your class?" Harry offered.

"Yes." Snape huffed, his face nearly disgusted. "Instead they will start being mushy and sappy in my class, which would be so much better."

"Well, they won't be distracted in your class because of their arguing anymore." Theodore tried.

"No, but because of them throwing lovesick gazes towards each other every now and then. No thank you. And now out of you, Mr. Nott! Not – you, Mr. Potter." He added when Harry too was about to stand up.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus Snape was leaving the bathroom, going back to his office and then he would hand out the last 'soup of sunjata roots' they had, worrying about what to do after that, what the next day would bring and the day after tomorrow, worrying about …

Harry bumping into him startled him out of his thoughts, the child pale, trembling, gasping for breath and visibly upset, panicky, green eyes much too large in a pale face while the boy nearly cried and his worries increased only upon seeing the child so startled and frightened, barely able to realize his surroundings, stumbling back upon the impact and looking up at him with his too large green eyes.

He caught the boy tightly with his hands on the too thin shoulders that were only bones covered with a thin layer of skin meanwhile and held him in place while his own heart leapt out of his chest and into his throat.

"Harry!" He called out, tightening his grip on the bony shoulders. "Child, calm yourself and tell me what has happened."

"Draco!" Seemed to be the only word Harry was able to choke out in a shocked and frightened voice.