Cursing silently Harry asked himself why this year the first of September couldn't have been a Friday. He would have the entire weekend then to recover before he had to go to the first classes. Not that those two days really would be enough to recover completely, but at least he would have been able to sleep through the weekend and catch up most of the sleep he had missed at the Dursleys. And with a bit of luck he would have been ready to eat more than half a toast without throwing up. Not to mention the fact that maybe his injuries would have healed at least enough that he would hurt only when he moved and not even without moving.

But as it was – the first of September had been a Sunday and now the first day of classes was a Monday - and thus he had to fight himself through the entire week, knowing that it would be much harder for him to deal with his tiredness, his weakness and his injuries as he wouldn't have much time to rest.

And to make things just worse, the first class they had today – was double potions, with Snape. Just what he needed.

He hadn't slept well last night, had been plagued with nightmares and still he was as tired as he had been yesterday evening. But, well – it wasn't something new. The first night back at Hogwarts was always like this.

However, it would be a hell of a day, and most likely a hell of a week and he suppressed a groan while he sat at one of the desks in the back row of the classroom, Ron sitting at another desk beside him and Hermione on a desk beside Ron. He always searched a seat in the back of the room, knowing that he wouldn't have anyone in his back then, knowing that he wouldn't have to look over his back then, knowing that he only had to concentrate onto the rows of desks in front of him.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

"You know, Albus, I don't understand why in Merlin's name Alastor wanted to teach the Slytherins separated." Minerva shook her head, gazing at the headmaster with mistrust in her eyes. "He even suggested he could teach the three other houses together as long as he had the Slytherins alone. I don't understand it."

"I can assure you, Minerva, whatever motivation Alastor has, it will be a reasonable one." Albus answered, smiling slightly at the deputy headmistress. "But whatever reason it was, it simply is not possible. He cannot teach one house separated and the other three houses together. Hogwarts has its structure and even Alastor has to bend to it."

"What I am glad for, Albus." Minerva growled. "Honestly, I do not really trust his motivations. It isn't as if he asked to teach Gryffindor separated."

"What is it that you try to say, Minerva?"

"If you remember correctly, then I have told you during the holidays that I do not trust Alastor. He acts strange lately."

"Alastor always had been strange and he always had been overreacting, Minerva." Albus answered. "But he always has proved himself trustworthy. He is one of the Order members."

"I do know this, Albus, but that doesn't ease my mind." Minerva shook her head and sighed heavily. "Alastor always might have overreacted with his 'constant vigilance' but honestly, the stunts he pulled lately are just not like him. He isn't himself."

"So, what is it you suggest?" Albus' eyes watched her with a serious gaze. He knew that he could trust Alastor, but he knew that he could trust Minerva's gut feeling too. The fact that she was an animagus and a cat at that, often had given him the impression that she somehow had a seventh sense.

"I just want you to watch him closely, Albus." Minerva answered. "As will do I."

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

"I do hope that Barty is ready." McNair whispered, as if someone would be able to hear him here between the trees of the forbidden forest. Well, no one knew what kind of wards the old fool had erected around the castle's gounds.

"He simply has to be ready, and now silence. Crabbe and Goyle, you stay between the half-giant's hut and the forbidden forest, covering our attack with a bit of a havoc." Lucius Malfoy gave out his orders with his usual cold voice. "Nott and McNair, you stay outside, watching the front doors and ensuring a safe retreat after the attack. The rest of you will follow me towards and then inside the castle. Wands out!"

They all obeyed immediately without so much of a question on their lips. Crabbe and Goyle went towards the edge of the forbidden forest, immediately casting fireballs that flew towards Hagrid's hut, causing some explosions while the rest of the Death Eaters went along the edge of the forest towards the castle, staying as long as possible in the tree's shadows before they had to cross the open field to reach the castle. With a bit of luck they would be unnoticed by Dumbledore and his crowd of teachers as they were approaching from the castle's left side while Crabbe and Goyle just attacked the half giant's hut.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

"If you add the salamander blood before the potion turned green then you will have your cauldron exploded, Mr. Nott." Snape growled darkly, gripping the boy's wrist and startling the fourth year Slytherin with that action who tried to get his wrist out of the Potions Master's harsh grip momentarily before he noticed that it was only his head of house and relaxed.

Snape knew that he had startled Theodore, and that was something he didn't wish, but if the cauldron exploded now, then not only Nott would be hurt but other students as well. And if he had to startle a student in order to prevent such, then be it. Even if it was a student he knew was jumpy in the first place.

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"I am sure your worries are unnecessary, Minerva." Albus said, giving away a heavy sigh. "But I can assure you Severus will have an eye on Alastor. You know …"

"What in Merlin's name …"

Minerva had been standing at the window and she had seen the fireballs flowing from the forbidden forest towards Hagrid's hut and a second later both of them could hear the sound of an explosion and the large building stood in flames.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

"Quickly now, we have to cross the field." Lucius commanded. "At the first sign of hexes - cast whatever you can think of. I do not mind what it is as long as it is at least successful."

They did cross the open field that led to the front of the castle, Lucius in the lead, Nott and McNair at his sides and followed by the rest of the Death Eaters, the blond Death Eater was smiling when he felt the rush of adrenaline flooding his system. That it was what most of the others didn't understand. The feeling of the adrenaline running through his body whenever he was in the front line, leading an attack, knowing that he could die easily, but hopefully wouldn't.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

And then three things happened at the same time.

Outside at the grounds, in front of the entrance doors, Death Eaters appeared, casting spells at the heavy wooden doors, knowing that the attack was in vain the moment the castle sent out a red glower.

Inside the castle Dumbledore and McGonagall tried to cast the counter spells, knowing that they had lost the moment the castle shut itself off.

And down in the dungeons Crabbe's and Goyle's cauldron exploded.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

Hearing a cauldron to his left bubble dangerously and knowing that the potion was about to explode Snape turned on his spot and cast a shield charm around the exploding cauldron as quickly as possible, hoping that he was in time to prevent the accident. How was it that Crabbe, Goyle and Longbottom got their cauldrons to explode whenever he turned his back on them to concentrate on another student? And why did those stupid idiots have to add the salamander blood too early before the potion turned green? Making the same mistake he just ten seconds ago had prevented Nott from doing and explained it?

Gritting his teeth in frustration he looked around and with another wave of his wand the smoke that had settled over the cauldrons was gone. None of the students were injured, they only had been startled. Potter especially, he noticed and his gaze darkened. The boy always was as jumpy as was Theodore whenever he came back from the summer holidays and he wondered what exactly he was up to, to make him so nervous.

The nervousness Theodore always displayed shortly after the holidays had a reason. Not so the nervousness Potter displayed. Potter never showed fear in the first place. Not even yet while being jumpy and nervous. He rather looked – angry, irritated, and annoyed, even at his friends.

Even now he was not afraid. The boy's breathing was rapid and his hands shook violently, his face was pale to death for a moment and he had to close his eyes and to take a deep breath in order to get himself back under control, but there was not the same fear in his eyes that the other children who were as close to the exploded cauldron showed on their faces.

Yet, the brat was pale. And he seemed to be tired. And more thin than he liked.

Well, yes. Potter always had been thin, but the skinniness he wore since he was back from the holidays was just ridiculous and he even had considered to have a word with Minerva when he had seen Potter last night at the welcoming feast so she may take the boy out of classes for a few days, just to be on the safe side, to ensure he ate and slept enough for a time so his body could recover. From whatever it was he had to recover.

"Class dismissed." He growled darkly, his voice making clear that there was no room for argument or hesitation and that they better left within the next thirty seconds if they wished to survive the day - or the next five minutes.

With another flick of his wand the potion was gone from the cauldron and the floor surrounding the area where the explosion had happened, and the now defect cauldron itself flowed towards the sink. The last remaining fumes slowly went into nothingness and the moment he had the damage done to the classroom under control he could see the students still lingering at the entrance door to the classroom.

"What exactly did you not understand when I said class dismissed?" He asked, his voice deadly calm.

"Well, sir." Draco took the courage to turn and address his head of house. "The door is locked."

"Locked?" Snape asked in annoyance. "And which imbeciles of you did lock the door?"

"Well, no one of us, sir." Pansy Parkinson answered. "I reached the door at first and it already was locked then."

"Make room!" Snape snapped impatiently. Could this day get any more wrong somehow? He wasn't even stupid enough to try the door handle but pointed his wand at the lock instead, murmuring a quiet "alohomora", wondering why the idiots hadn't tried this one by themselves. But nothing happened. The door still was locked.

Frowning he tried a few more unlocking spells before he turned towards the students, casting searching looks at their faces, trying to find something like guilt in their eyes. But again, there was nothing.

Wordlessly he turned back towards the door, trying every remaining spell that came to his mind and that might somehow unlock the damn door. But again without any success. He just couldn't open the door.

Knowing that there was no spell left he turned back towards the students.

"Floo." He curtly said, quickly striding through the classroom towards the fireplace and grabbing the tin with the floo powder from the mantelpiece, he threw the grey powder into the hearth. "Headmaster's office." He growled, mentioning one of them who stood nearest to step into the fire. It was Theodore, but once more nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. The grey powder fell to the ground and mingled there with the ashes from the fireplace.

"Get back out, Mr. Nott." He said, sighing heavily. "You all will stay here in the classroom and there will be no fighting. I will go to my office and contact the headmaster from there."

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Well, it wasn't that he'd had more success with the floo in his office and swiftly he went towards the door that led to his private quarters, but that door too was locked and silently he cursed under his breath. Of course he tried every unlocking spell he knew but again the door remained close. Even Marlow Venenatus, the old Potions Master who guarded the door to his chambers was absent from his frame and again he cursed silently. Where was that old fool?

The fact itself, the fact that Marlow was not there told him enough. The old wizard was not a social man either, just like him, he never left his frame – normally. And the fact that he had left now, was proof enough to Snape that something was very wrong, whatever this something was.

"Zilly." He quietly called his house elf. Maybe Zilly could reach the headmaster and get back a portkey or something similar to get the students out. But yet again, nothing happened. Zilly did not come and that too was not normal. Zilly, his personal house elf was more than loyal and he knew, even if it concerned his work as a spy in a dangerous war, he always could trust this particular house elf.

Well, he didn't know what exactly was going on right now, but whatever it was, they were cut off from every means of transportation out of the classroom or the office and for a moment he considered the situation.

Most likely they soon would be missed and then Albus would come and get them out of here. Probably the dungeons door could be opened from the outside. Maybe just an outside student had played a prank on them and locked them in.

'Then you would have been able to open the door with a simple spell.' A small voice in his head argued.

Well, whatever the situation was, the headmaster would be able to solve the problem from outside, he was sure.

But if not, well, every potions laboratory had to hold a small kitchen, a single bathroom with a toilet and a shower, and a restroom. And thus – this laboratory too held those rooms of course. They surely would survive a few hours.

'And what if it will be a few days?' The small voice in his head asked and he quickly brushed this idea aside. It surely wouldn't take a few days until they were missed and the headmaster had found a way to either get inside or to get them out. His only problem right now would be to keep the students calm.

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Harry looked up when Snape came back and he watched the man for a few seconds. Snape was standing in the doorway to his office, his arms folded in front of his chest and his mask firmly in place. Nevertheless he could see something like concern and something else he couldn't place radiating from the dark eyes of the Potions Master and immediately he knew that the man had not been successful. Well, somehow he had known. He was Harry Fucking Potter after all, enemy to damn Voldemort and weapon to blasted Dumbledore and of course he couldn't have a break.

When he came back to the classroom he could see them all standing around in groups, just as he had left them ten minutes ago and he sighed a sigh of relieve. They hadn't killed each other yet. They all turned their eyes towards him and their faces were pale, shocked and they definitely were afraid, his Slytherins showing their fear less, the Gryffindors showing their fear more clearly - aside from Potter. The boy even nodded in understanding before he – Snape – even shook his head to indicate that he had not been able to use the floo in his office either and the mask the boy wore never changed. But they all were alright still.

Previously in Twenty-one days

When he came back to the classroom he could see them all standing around in groups, just as he had left them ten minutes ago and he sighed a sigh of relieve. They hadn't killed each other yet. They all turned their eyes towards him and their faces were pale, shocked and they definitely were afraid, his Slytherins showing their fear less, the Gryffindors showing their fear more clearly - aside from Potter. The boy even nodded in understanding before he – Snape – even shook his head to indicate that he had not been able to use the floo in his office either and the mask the boy wore never changed. But they all were alright still.

Chapter two

Day one

Monday, second of September

They had been down here since the entire day now and it was evening, the other students surely would be in the great hall for dinner right now and he growled darkly at the prospect that they might be locked down here for a few hours more as it seemed, maybe even the entire night. Well, at least none of them had had a panic attack thus far and that was a small relief at least.

He had tried the doors, the floo and calling his house elf a few more times so far, but each time it had been in vain.

Well, at least Marlow had been back in his frame and he had gathered a few informations then.

Flashback

"Where in Merlin's name have you been, Venenatus?" Snape asked impatiently as soon as he entered his office around noon and – again, and again in vain – had tried to open the door that led to his private quarters. "Would you be as kind as to let me into my quarters?"

"I would, Severus, if I could." The ancient Potions Master answered. "But unfortunately I can't."

"Care to tell me, why ever not?" Snape wanted to know, his patience running short. It was half past twelve and he wanted the students out and in the great hall for lunch. Some of them already had complained about being hungry. He would cancel the rest of his classes today, that one was for sure.

"Because the door is locked by the castle."

"What is the meaning of this? Locked by the castle?" Snape growled darkly. "And where, in Merlin's name, have you been earlier?"

"Well, after I noticed the change in the locks, I went upstairs to ask the other paintings what was wrong." Marlow answered, his voice very serious and worried, something that immediately alarmed Snape. Marlow was a serious man, yes, but he also was a man that rarely sounded as worried as he did right now. "And I fear that the situation is grave. The castle has been attacked by Death Eaters and – that is what I heard – Dumbledore has cast a counter spell to one of their spells. They mixed together somehow, hit the entrance door of the castle and Hogwarts itself has reacted, has shut down each door within."

"You mean every class is locked up in different rooms?" Snape asked incredulously. Those were indeed grave news.

"Well, they have been, yes. But the headmaster had been able to convince the castle to open those doors. They all are free now."

"Good." Severus sighed a sigh of relief. "So I guess we as well will be out of here soon."

"I fear not." Marlow answered quietly, his voice getting even more serious with his words.

"And why ever not?" Snape asked exasperated. The headmaster surely would get them out soon too. He probably had worked his way from the upper levels down to the hallways and was now about to approach the dungeons.

"I guess one of your students had had an accident this morning?" Marlow asked. "I have heard one of the cauldrons exploding, at the same time the stray spell hit the front doors and the castle has shut down. That at least is what Dumbledore thinks after I told him of the exploded cauldron. And somehow all what had happened at that precise time had reacted badly and neither the castle nor Dumbledore can open up the corridors that lead to the Dungeons. Each corridor that leads down from the entrance hall as well as the side corridors and the shortcuts are cut off at their ends. He tried the floo, he tried to send a house elf down here and he even tried to make a portkey. Right now he and Minerva are trying to find another way to reach you."

"Has any other student been injured during the attack?" Snape asked, just to get as much information as possible. "And who exactly had been attacking in the first place? Which spells had it been?"

"No one had been injured, Severus." Marlow said. "Hagrid's hut had been on fire. Probably a diversion. But no one is injured. The spell the Death Eaters used we do not know, but the spell the headmaster used had been a protective spell based on a confounds charm in order to hide the castle itself."

"And he didn't think that he might have startled the castle by trying to hide it?" Snape growled darkly. "What maybe had been the reason that the castle had shut down in the first place?"

"I don't now, Severus." The older wizard shook his head. "None of the other teachers mentioned something like that. But it could be possible. What exact potion did your student manage to blow up?"

"We were brewing the fourth year healing potion for severe burns, the exustio potion. Crabbe and Goyle those imbeciles added the salamander blood too soon, before the potion turned green, and their cauldron exploded."

"A rather dangerous potion when exploding." Marlow grimaced. "Someone got hurt?"

"Fortunately not." Snape growled, his mind racing a mile per minute. "I have been able to cast a shield charm before the actual explosion when I heard the sizzling. How could this explosion have been affecting the castle's shut down to a point where the castle itself wouldn't be able to open up the dungeons anyway?"

"That we do not know, Severus." Marlow answered. "I will go and give the information you just gave me to Dumbledore. Maybe he can find an answer."

"You better come back with either a solution or more information." Severus threatened darkly.

"I will." Marlow answered seriously, not impressed by the Potions Master's threatening. He was already dead since long after all.

End flashback

And right now Snape went back to his potions classroom - again. After he once more had tried everything he knew could get them out. And after - once again - finding the frame empty. Marlow had not come back as he had promised earlier in the day.

He didn't want the students being alone for a long time in a row. Not that he feared they would cause any trouble, but he knew that they, or at least some of them, could get into a panic attack at any moment now. It wouldn't take much, he knew. And he could quite understand them as well. He too was close to snap at any moment. Not because he was close to panicking, but because the situation was just annoying to no end. Not only were they locked down here in the dungeons since the entire day now after a Death Eater attack and neither the headmaster nor any other teacher had been able to reach them, but they probably were about to face a night down here too. Not to mention the fact that Marlow has not returned yet from Dumbledore.

He had explained the happenings to the students, trying to choose words as harmless as possible and to assure them that soon the headmaster would find a way to free them, but they all had recognized how severe the situation was and most of them had been looking quite afraid. So he quickly went back now to the classroom.

Yet - he'd just had to try the floo again. Maybe it would have been able to contact the headmaster or at least any other teacher by now. But nothing, the fireplace was as dead as was anything else. Just as all the times he had tried before. They still were cut off from the castle and from the wizarding world.

Draco was sitting in a corner when he re-entered the classroom, together with Crabbe and Goyle, Pansy, Millicent and Daphne, whispering quietly to each other. Theodore and Blaze were sitting at a table in the middle of the classroom, doing the same, and Tracy was sitting in another corner, alone, staring ahead into space.

Granger, Weasley and Longbottom were sitting at another table, discussing as quietly as his Slytherins. Thomas and Finnigan were sitting on the floor in the middle of the backside of the classroom. And Patil and Brown were sitting at another table, their heads together too.

Well, at least none of them cried, screamed, misbehaved or – well, panicked. They all were quiet and they all seemed to try and figure out what had happened in the first place and how it affected them and he was glad for that. He was not a man who easily gave away comfort, at least not to other students apart from his snakes. And the last thing he wanted to do right now was to comfort some students that had gotten into a panic attack.

They all were looking at him expectantly when he re-entered the classroom and he sighed before he wordlessly shook his head, watching their reaction to the bad news. The Slytherins nodded curtly at his headshaking while the Gryffindors sighed and turned back to whispering to each other.

Only when he noticed that the clinking to his left had stopped for a moment when he had entered he noticed that there had been that sound in the first place, but now, after his headshake it continued and Snape went over to the sink where Potter was scrubbing cauldrons, wondering why Potter scrubbed them in the first place. He hadn't ordered him to.

"Eager to become skilled at scrubbing cauldrons for your next detention, Potter?" He asked with a cold glare and for a moment Potter stopped his scrubbing. Yet – he didn't look at him, just stopped his scrubbing for a moment and then resumed in his work without giving him an answer.

Shaking his head he was about to give another scathing comment away, but then he thought better of it. Even if Potter had not answered his comment – that had been meant as a sarcastic but rhetorical question anyway, it would do none of them any good if he pushed the situation that was difficult enough as it already was right now.

They all had to deal with the situation in their own individual ways and if Potter chose to do some work to get his mind off the events, then be it.

So he sighed and turned, sitting at his desk. If he was stuck here with the students, then he would get some work done, grading the first essays that had been handed in, the homework from the fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors. Yet – his gaze often wandered over the students, watching them close.

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It was nearly two hours later and Potter had scrubbed each cauldron when he went back to his Gryffindor fellows, sitting down beside Weasley who looked curiously at him.

He had noticed Weasley shooting such looks at Potter more and more often during the past two hours while Potter had been scrubbing those cauldrons and at one point the red head even had gone over to the sink, asking Potter what he was doing.

Potter had blinked at him and had countered his question with the counter question if it wasn't obvious what he was doing and Weasley had been shaking his head, asking if he were crazy. Potter had just shrugged his shoulders, continuing his scrubbing and at some point Weasley had gone back to Granger and Longbottom, shaking his head and watching Potter as if his friend had gone mad.

Draco, Theodore, and Blaze together with Crabbe and Goyle were still sitting at a table, whispering to each other while the Slytherin girls did the same at a table beside them. They seemed to be calm still, afraid somehow, understandably, but calm. Theodore had been over once, asking him if they would have to sleep here and Snape had answered him with a "regrettably yes". He had known the reason as to why the boy had asked this question and in a silent voice he had promised him that he would wake him if he had a nightmare, as he'd had the dreamless sleep potion just the night before and he couldn't take it again this night. He knew that the boy had those nightmares for a few weeks whenever he came back to school after the summer holidays.

Theodore had been shaking his head, had told him in an equal silent voice that he rather didn't want the Gryffindors knowing that he had nightmares in the first place.

Snape had sighed and – even if he normally was against such, he had promised the boy that he would cast a silencing spell at him as soon as he fell asleep. He didn't like his snakes casting such spells to hide their nightmares. If no one could hear them, then no one could wake them.

It had taken Theodore up to the end of his second year until he had finally accepted his words, but he had and now the boy was worried that the Gryffindors would find out about his nightmares. Again – understandably.

Most of the Slytherins knew. They were used to each other, they knew each other, and a lot of them had similar fears to those Theodore had. They understood each other. The Gryffindors would not understand, they most likely would taunt them afterwards. Well, he would allow Theodore this spell for at least tonight and he just would have to watch the boy during the night so he would be able to wake him if necessary.

"How can you be so calm, Harry?" He heard Weasley asking, his voice a bit louder than it had been a moment before and just on the edge of panicking. "We are locked down here!"

"Yes, we are." Potter answered, his voice low and he only could understand his words because he now concentrated onto their conversation. "But they will be able to get us out eventually."

"Eventually, yes." Weasley growled. "But we are locked, Harry. Together with Snape and the Slytherins."

"Well, so are they." Potter answered and Snape had to suppress a snort. Once in his life Potter was right.

"And you don't care that you are locked down here for Merlin knows how long?"

"Well, it could be worse."

"Are you crazy, mate? How could it be worse?" Weasley demanded.

"You could be locked in a cupboard, couldn't you?" Potter answered and again Snape had to suppress a snort. Potter definitely had a point, and a nearly annoying sense of optimism – or sarcasm.

"However, I'm hungry." Weasley complained. Well, that was a sentence that he had heard a few times during the day and not only from Weasley but from others as well. The only one who hadn't complained about that had been Theodore, Tracy and – as startling as it was – Potter.

"I know, Ron." Potter simply answered.

"I guess we all are." Was the first sentence Granger said and Longbottom nodded.

"Well, maybe Snape has some frogs here we could roast?" Weasley asked, nearly sounding hopefully, garnering a distasteful look from the others and he nearly snorted once again. But then he quickly grew serious. He would have to keep an eye on them during the night. All of them definitely were hungry, but even if he indeed had frogs down here, they were long dead and pickled in poisoning fluids.

"Don't be stupid, Ronald Weasley!" Granger had the sense to answer. "I'm sure whatever you could find here is not for eating, probably even poisonous."

Potter sighed and shook his head. He got up and for a moment Snape thought that the boy actually might be stupid enough to really search for something he could eat. He even prepared himself that this now would be the first moment he would have to deal with a hungry, tired and panicking student and the thought that it would be Potter he would have to deal with was just the more annoyingly. But Potter just picked up one of his books, history of magic, he noticed, and placed it at the floor in a corner of the classroom, drew his wand and pointed it at the book, enlarging it before he cast a cushioning charm at it, thus creating a mattress. Well, the fourth years hadn't yet learned how to transfigure larger furniture.

"Go and get some sleep, Ron." He said, enlarging and cushioning another book, Weasley's 'history of magic'. "I need more books." He added.

"How could I sleep now?" Weasley complained giving Potter his book bag while Granger shook her head, pressing her book bag against her chest as if Potter tried to take her life from her. "I'm just hungry."

"Then try to sleep." Potter answered, forming a third book into a mattress.

Well, normally he would have gotten Potter's backside for such a prank, changing books into beds and placing them along the walls without asking for permission beforehand, but right now he had to admit that the boy had a point. They would need something to sleep on anyway. And honestly, their situation was difficult and tiring enough, he really shouldn't add more stress onto them with his sarcastic comments, even if it was Potter. They all had reacted rather well to this damn situation up to now, even the Gryffindors, he had to admit.

"How could sleeping help?" Weasley asked while rolling his eyes, and he took Longbottom's book bag and reached it to Potter.

"It just helps." Potter said, creating the next mattress. "Just do it, try to sleep."

Getting to his feet Snape went over to the students.

"Potter is right, Mr. Weasley." He said when he went by the Gryffindors. "Sleeping will help, so I suggest you try just that. There are more books in the cupboard, Potter."

Then he began transfiguring sheets of parchments into pillows and blankets. They wouldn't be really warm, he knew, there was only so much one could do with magic and changing parchments into blankets – well, it would be easier if he had towels or something akin to begin with. But there were only two towels in the bathroom that was added to the laboratory and too much students to share them so it would be unfair if two had warm blankets and the others just thin ones.

He just would have to cast a warming spell onto them during the night.

He frowned when he transfigured the next blanket that had ink spots on it. He really had to concentrate more on what he did. Casting a glance at Potter he noticed that the teen looked with a frustrated frown at his wand.

"What is it, Potter?" He asked, not able to keep his tongue. "Not able to do more than ten minutes of magic? How disappointing."

But his next blanket had ink spots too and the next pillow had even written words that definitely proved – it was an essay from Longbottom's third year.

Potter's next mattress was slightly thinner than the other mattresses and not quite as soft as the first ones had been, and again he frowned. What in Merlin's name was wrong now?

However, soon seventeen mattresses with pillows and blankets – some of them with half an essay written on it, were lined at the wall and gritting his teeth Snape turned back to the students, ordering them to bed. He would stay awake, ensuring that none of them tried some foolish stunt in form of searching for something to eat that most likely was either poisonous or would make them ill.

break ... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ... line

Harry was frustrated to no end.

He knew, would he lay down and go to sleep right now, then he would have nightmares and that was something that simply was not an option. He never even allowed his fellow Gryffindors knowing about them and cast a silencing spell around his bed, and surely he would not allow the Slytherins to witness them. The problem was – he wouldn't be able to cast a silencing spell around his mattress. Somehow his wand didn't work anymore. Neither did Snape's or someone else's.

He didn't really understand why, but somehow the magic in these rooms were – tired, dead, worn out, whatever, he didn't know. And thus, well, he just would have to stay awake this night in hopes that in the morning Dumbledore would have found a way to get them all out of here. He would skip classes for the entire week then.

Well, of course he would not. But honestly, he would like to.

Snape had similar thoughts, wondering why in Merlin's name none of them were able to do any more magic down here, why in Merlin's name Marlow didn't come back, and why in Merlin's name Dumbledore hadn't found a way to free them yet.

So much for casting warming charms on them during the night and he cursed under his breath, knowing they soon would begin to freeze. But there was nothing he could do about that right now. It was only one night and they would survive this one night.

'And what if it won't be just this one night?' The same small voice asked that had made itself known earlier during the day. 'What if no one will come to get you out anytime soon?' Sighing in frustration he shoved the small voice aside and forced himself to concentrate onto the present situation.

His Slytherins still were calm, just whispering to each other, laying on the quickly made beds, some of them really trying to sleep while others read a book or just whispered to their classmates.

The Gryffindors were another matter, Weasley had been the first that had sounded more than just – frightened, worried, even if Potter had kept the situation under control. If Potter had not reacted with a clear head and calm, then maybe the situation would have gone out of hands, but Potter had, to his great surprise. And right now Potter was sitting on his mattress, reading, while Weasley already snored and Granger too had a book in her hands.

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It was two hours later and each student was sleeping by now, aside from Theodore and Potter.

He knew that Theodore didn't want to sleep, knowing that he wouldn't be able to cast a silencing spell at him, knowing that he couldn't take dreamless sleep this night either and the boy had taken to write his potions essay in order to prevent sleep.

Well, he would allow Theodore this night. The boy could sleep as soon as they were out of here tomorrow. He knew that he wouldn't do him any good if he forced him to sleep now and even if he normally made a point to his students regarding curfew, right now he thought that staying awake and avoid a nightmare was more important for Theodore.

Potter on the other hand had taken a bucket with warm water from the sink, had added a cleaning agent and then had grabbed some old cleaning clothes. And right now Snape secretly watched the irritating teen cleaning the upper shelves that lined the walls, standing on a desk in order to reach those shelves.

Well, he had two possibilities. He either could allow the Gryffindor to continue with his irritating task, or he could force him to bed. But he knew that he had to talk to him first, never mind what he decided. Maybe the teen had a reason as to why he avoided sleep, maybe he just wasn't tired and tried to tire himself out, maybe he was too worried to sleep. Never mind what, he had to talk to him and he groaned inwardly.

"Potter." He silently called over, loud enough so the boy would hear him, but not as loud for the students to wake up. Only Theodore lifted his head and watched him before he cast a curious glance at Potter and then resumed in his work. Yet – there was something in the boy's eyes that he didn't recognize when he gazed over at the Gryffindor. A strange look.

He shoved it towards the back of his mind to think about later. Right now he had a conversation to hold that he did not look forwards to.
Potter looked over at him and when he pointed towards his office and got up, the boy silently climbed down from the desk and slowly walked over, followed him into his office. He threw a worried gaze at him when he closed the door behind them but Snape ignored it and sat behind his desk.

"Sit." He said, pointing at the chair in front of his desk and reluctantly Potter did as he was told, sat down onto the edge of the chair.

"Care to tell me as to why you would clean out the shelves instead of going to sleep?" Snape asked, trying to keep his sarcasm out of his voice and words.

"I'm sorry, sir." Potter answered and Snape couldn't help but lifting his eyebrow. "I'm just not tired."

"Try again, Potter." Snape answered, his dark eyes never leaving the boy's green ones.

"Well, I couldn't sleep anyway, sir." Potter finally answered. "And I'll be silent. I won't wake the others."

"I am not worried over your classmates' sleep only, Potter." He said, sighing in frustration. Never mind how much he loathed it, but he had to try and be civil with the boy. "But over yours as well. You need a few hours of sleep."

"I'll be fine, Professor." Potter had the nerve to say and for a moment he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"As long as you go to sleep as soon as you are tired." He finally answered, knowing that he either could fight with the teenager what surely would not help at all and only would result in an upset student, or that he just could give in for now and allow the damn boy to stay awake in which case he possibly would go to bed eventually. "And as long as you won't disturb your classmates' sleep. I am sure that at some time tomorrow we will be out of here but as long as they are sleeping they do not have the time to worry and I would prefer you doing the same soon."

"And what if we won't, sir?" Potter asked, addressing the same question that he had asked himself a few times up to now and somehow he did not have the heart to bark at the boy. Potter was just as frightened as the rest of them were, even if he didn't show it as openly as Weasley or Tracy did.

"I'm sure we will, Potter." He finally answered, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

Potter this time just nodded, accepting his answer and after a confirming nod from the Potions Master the boy got up, left the office and went back to cleaning the shelves while Snape too got back to his desk in the classroom to read through some of his lesson plans for the upcoming year as he had no more essays to grade.

He still had to ensure that neither of them would do anything foolish in order to find something to eat during the night and for a moment he watched Potter more closely, wondering if maybe that was the reason why the boy cleaned the shelves in the first place, trying to find a jar containing something to eat.

But then – no. Potter just took jar for jar and cleaned it, just to place it back on the shelf without inspecting it any further.

Previously in twenty-one days

He still had to ensure that neither of them would do anything foolish in order to find something to eat during the night and for a moment he watched Potter more closely, wondering if maybe that was the reason why the boy cleaned the shelves in the first place, trying to find a jar containing something to eat.

But then – no. Potter took jar for jar and cleaned it, just to place it back on the shelf without inspecting it any further.

Chapter three

Day two

Tuesday, third of September

It had been a rather irritating night and he was tired, he had to admit. It wasn't the first night during which he had not slept. A sleepless night was nothing new to him, honestly. If you were a spy in a dangerous war, acting for two madmen, a dark wizard on one hand and an old wizard that might seem to be a kind grandfather but was a mad old warrior in reality, then a sleepless night every now and then was inevitable. Not to mention that being a head of a house, and head of Slytherin at that, meant that you had to be prepared for settling scared first years at the beginning of each term, tend to nightmares, to injuries or – simply students who wanted to keep themselves from sleeping in order to avoid nightmares or needed to talk to someone – that too mostly during the night.

And thus – he'd had his good share of sleepless nights throughout the years. But never before had he had such a strange sleepless night. Well, never before had be been locked in the dungeons with an entire class of students either, he had to admit that. However, it had been an irritating and annoying night, that much was sure.

He had known that Theodore would not sleep. He had known the moment they had discovered that they would not be able to use any more magic and he thus would not be able to cast a silencing spell to keep the boy's nightmares from being acknowledged by the Gryffindors.

What he had not been prepared for however, had been Potter being up the entire night too. Not to mention the boy's annoying cleaning to keep himself awake. And nothing else it had been. First he had thought that maybe Potter tried to work himself into tiredness, but after a few hours however it had been clear that Potter had been tired enough to drop where he stood. And nevertheless he had not stopped his cleaning that was more than just irritating. During the early morning hours he even had wondered how Potter had managed to still find something left he actually could clean. The classroom definitely never had been as clean as it was right now.

Well, it had been this one night and by some time today they would be out of here.

'Maybe.' The small voice in the back of his head teased him and he growled darkly. He left the small kitchen that was attached to his laboratory, his arms folded over his chest while he leaned against the doorframe of the classroom and he watched the teenagers that were awake now. All of them, even Weasley, Crabbe and Goyle who had been the last ones to leave the land of the dreaming.

Somehow he wondered if the three of them were related somehow. All three of them had been snoring rather annoyingly during the night, all three of them had been the first to fall asleep and the last to get awake, and all three of them had been sleeping without moving once. Not to mention that all three of them had been the first ones yesterday to complain about being hungry.

Well, Draco had been sleeping rather restlessly but he had slept through. As had Longbottom and Granger. The rest of the students had been sleeping deeply, turning every now and then while he himself had read his monthly potions magazine to avoid sleep. And luckily none of the students had tried any stupid stunts like searching for anything to eat that most probably would have poisoned them.

Sometime during the morning he had begun mentally going through his ingredient stocks, trying to find something that would be fit for eating. Just in case. And it seemed this case was close now as neither during the night nor during the early morning hours now had anyone come to see them out of their prison.

He snorted. He had managed to avoid Azkaban due to Albus giving his testimony at his trial, and nevertheless now he was imprisoned. With the only exception that he would rather sit in a cell in Azkaban right now and alone than here with seventeen students locked in his potions classroom.

Well, if he had to be honest, then no. Nearly everything was better than Azkaban. Nevertheless it was an annoying situation.

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Taking out his transfiguration book from his bag Harry began to read, just so that he could get some time passed.

Snape had told them that hopefully the headmaster would find a way to get them out of here during the day, but honestly, the headmaster might be able to find a way, eventually, maybe. But it might as well be that they would be locked down here for days, even weeks, or even forever. That they would die down here.

Not the most pleasant thought, but honestly, it was possible. He knew it was. He had been locked in his cupboard for hours and hours, for days and days often enough to know it could be possible. His aunt and uncle could have forgotten him in there one day after all. And even if he would have called out for them before dying, they either would have beaten him to death finally or they simply would have ignored him until he would have been dead in the end nevertheless.

So – all in all – it just was possible.

But well – at least he would not die in the Dursley's cupboard now. And that at least was something.

Ron watched him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Transfiguration?" The red head asked, blinking at him.

"Well, better than just sitting here." Harry answered him. "And that's the only book I didn't have changed into a mattress. That and the potions book."

"Uargh." Ron made. "Yes, then definitely transfiguration."

"Sadly we can't practice the spells as we can't do magic." Hermione sighed. "I just wonder why that is."

"Dunno." Harry answered, leaning with his back against the wall and reading. He just was tired and he hoped that he would not fall asleep upon reading. Not to mention that he was hungry and that he felt weak. It had been a few days after all since he last had eaten something that could be called a healthy meal. But luckily he had been able to sneak a piece of bread here and there out of the Dursley's kitchen during the summer. He'd had been able to do so the night before he had left for Hogwarts. And the night of their return, during the welcomeing feast, he had been able to stomach a piece of toast he had nibbled at. So – well, he knew he would be able to go without food for a few days longer. He was experienced in calculating about how much days more he would be able to go without before losing consciousness. He would manage a few days more. Even if he knew that it would not be pleasant. But he would manage.

"If just Dumbledore would find a way soon. I'm really hungry."

"Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley." Snape growled from behind, startling Ron. "And if you wait for an hour longer, then you will get something to eat."

"You have found a way out, Professor?" Ron asked, blinking at the Potions Master.

"Regrettably no, Mr. Weasley." Snape answered with a lifted eyebrow. "But I am sure you will be hungry enough to eat the cataneo roots I am about to cook at that moment."

"Cataneo roots?" Ron asked blinking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration again.

"You won't be poisoning him, would you, Professor?" Hermione asked, having heard of them never before.

"Surely not, Hermione." Harry murmured without looking up, his thoughts rather absent with reading his transfiguration book and only vacantly answering. "Cataneo roots are not poisonous."

"Strange, Potter." Snape growled and Harry looked up at the man, only now realizing that he had answered Hermione's question and that Snape still stood there, having heard him. And he knew that the next comment would be a snarky one. "If I had known that a locked door would get you to actually pay attention to anything concerning potions, then I would have resorted to lock the classroom door three years ago. Your ability of answering a question correctly has increased since your first potions lesson in my classroom at least."

The Slytherins, who sat on the other side of the fireplace, huddled together just like the Gryffindors, began snickering silently while Ron and Hermione glowered angrily at the Potions Master. Harry however blinked for a moment at Snape in near shock before he sighed and forced himself to concentrate back onto the transfiguration book he was reading. As it seemed he was the only one who had realized that Snape had given him a compliment hidden within his scathing words.

For a moment he wondered why in Merlin's name the man had given him a praise in the first place. And he knew that it had been one, he had seen it in his teacher's face. There had not been the usual disgust and hate on his face that was just indifferent right now. Well, maybe Snape tried to keep the situation as calm as possible, he thought. The man surely would not want to deal with upset students added to hungry and locked ones. For a moment he wondered if Snape would feel as afraid as he was, but then he decided that if anyone would be able to handle the situation, then it would be Snape. The man always seemed to be calm, never mind if it was a melted cauldron, an exploded cauldron, or a student coming in contact with a dangerous potion, he never had seen the man losing his calmness and even now Snape seemed to have the upper hand of the situation.

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On his first impulse Snape had wanted to reprimand Potter not only because he had acted like Granger with her know-it-all attitude but also just because he was Potter and he always reprimanded him. But after his first words, after addressing Potter, the boy had looked up, seemingly startled at his own words and his green eyes had been far too open for his own good. And right then they had bordered on hurt, on mistrust and on fear. Just as if Potter knew whatever he would have to say would only hurt him once again.

And right then he had known that it would do no good to them if he gave a scathing remark to Potter's answer. The boy had been right at least, wherever he had gained that bit of information from. It wasn't as if the cataneo root was a potion ingredient taught in lesser years. It was only used in two potions and both potions he only had the seventh year students brewing.

So he had settled on giving a comment that would not give him away of being not the usual bastard of a teacher in front of the students but held even a praise if Potter would be intelligent enough to actually listen between the words. And as it seemed, Potter had recognized it as what it had been. Alone the shock on the brat's face had been worth it.

He had handed the roots out as soon as they had been cooked and told the students to eat them while they were still hot. He had cooked seventeen pieces of them so every student would have one and neither would get ideas of asking for more than others had.

He didn't really know why exactly he had taken to safe rations. He at least had told himself during the entire night that they would get out soon, that the headmaster would reach them soon and that soon they would sit in the great hall for breakfast, or for lunch, or at least for dinner. But somehow he had felt the need to keep the few things down here rationed. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but somehow it seemed to be important that he did and at that realisation worry had settled into his stomach. What if his annoying little voice in the back of his mind was right?

He had seventeen students down here. And they were locked, would be locked for only Merlin knows how long. Maybe only for a few more hours. But maybe for days or even weeks. And he knew that he, maybe, by the end of this, would have seventeen dead students on his hands. Gritting his teeth with frustration he let his gaze wander over them and suddenly he was glad that he had not reprimanded Potter earlier when he'd had the chance to.

Speaking of Potter, he lifted his eyebrow at the Gryffindor who just now passed his root towards Weasley who complained about still being hungry and he silently scowled at them. At Potter for lacking any self preservation and at Weasley for complaining when every one of them was just as hungry. In the contrary. Potter already looked as if he hadn't eaten anything in days. And his scowl deepened. He would have to ensure that the brat ate his rations in future.

Hearing a soft sniffling sound he gazed back at his Slytherins and with a silent groan he noticed Tracy Davis silently crying. The girl was sitting alone in a corner again and apparently none of the other Slytherins noticed, too absorbed in their own worries and gloom or sleeping some time away. Well, he could not blame them. Nevertheless he closed his eyes, inwardly cursing. He never had been a man prone to giving comfort that had no meaning. Not like that anyway. Not in form of offering words of nothingness that most likely would be nothing but a lie.

He could offer comfort in form of a few reassuring words, in form of giving an advice or even in form of physical touch after a nightmare. At least to his Slytherins. He was able to give comfort in form of potions when they were ill or otherwise unwell in any means. But this – this situation was just …

Well, as it seemed it simply would be left to him to give this kind of comfort right now, if he liked it or not. And he definitely did not like it, not in front of the Gryffindors who would hold it against his Slytherins later on. Not to mention that he would have to give up his reputation of being an uncaring bastard of a teacher in front of the Gryffindors.

Again it was Potter who disturbed his musings and for a moment he was annoyed at the brat. Until he noticed where the boy headed to and he lifted his eyebrow in curiosity. Potter seated himself onto the mattress beside Tracy, without asking her for permission, just doing it, and softly touched her shoulder. Crabbe and Goyle cast curious looks over at them too, as did Weasley, Thomas and Finnigan, but neither of them reacted.

Tracy looked startled at Potter, but she didn't attack him for coming close while she already was miserable. Potter quietly said something he couldn't understand and the girl nodded. They sat beside each other for a few minutes, just whispering a few words every now and then, but he really did not want to interfere. As long as the girl did not seem upset at Potter, as long he would allow it.

Another few minutes passed during which Weasley, Finnigan and Thomas cast strange looks at Potter and stuck their heads together, Snape noticed, and then Tracy cried again. It wasn't a kind of crying that indicated that Potter had upset her and so Snape kept his seat, did nothing but secretly watching.

Again Potter said something, gaining a rather harsh shaking of the girl's head and a few hissed words into the direction the rest of the Gryffindors sat and after another few of Potter's words the brat stood up and left the classroom, walking into his office. And without asking him for permission no less, leaving an upset girl behind that stared after him dumbfounded.

Enough was enough and he would interfere now. At first he would have to calm Miss Davis and then he would have a word with Potter. If he just knew what exactly had been said between the two students. The girl had seemed to be calmed by Potter, as strange as it might sound. A Gryffindor, and a Potter at that, and a miserable Slytherin never boded anything good after all.

Sighing he was about to get up when Miss Davis did so by herself, got up from her mattress and followed Potter into his office.

Now really feeling worried Snape silently followed the girl and stood in the doorway, leaning with his shoulder lazily against the doorframe and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

He doubted that Potter would pull any stupid stunts, but he told himself better being safe than sorry and he would be damned if he would allow the Gryffindor to hurt one of his snakes.

Lifting his eyebrow he noticed Potter sitting at the floor in the middle of the office, facing the wall to his left and Tracy just now was sitting down too, her back to Potter's back, facing the other wall.

"This really will stay between us, Potter?" The girl softly asked.

"Yes." Potter answered and Snape nearly huffed. As if Potter would stuck to his word. It would be a first time a Potter would do so. He never would have trusted James Potter and Tracy should not trust Harry Potter. "I promise." Potter added.

"Me too, then." The girl answered and Snape shook his head.

"Night or day?" Potter suddenly asked and Snape lowered his head to hear better. What exactly had the blasted brat in his nearly none existend but otherwise insufferable mind?

"I personally prefer the night." Potter continued. "Because during the night everyone is sleeping and then I can have a bit of freedom for myself."

There were a few moments of silence but then Tracy answered, her voice rather small and still shaking from her crying earlier. "Day." She said. "Because I don't like the dark."

Again there were a few moments of pause before the girl asked a question.

"Winter or summer?" The girl asked. "I like winter. When everything is white and mum decorates the Christmas tree. And in the evening we would sit in front of the fire and dad reads a story."

A smile tucked at the girl's lips and suddenly Snape knew what Potter was about to do. But why in Merlin's name would Potter do such a thing? To comfort a Slytherin with a diversion? Potter on the other hand did not look so happy right now and Snape narrowed his eyes at the Gryffindor. The boy nearly looked like crying by himself now.

"Summer." Potter finally said with a strange choking noise. "Even if summer might not be such a good choice as well, but I never had a Christmas tree to look at."

That was strange and Snape inched closer a bit, leaning against the wall in his office. He now had a better view of both teens and he still wondered why in Merlin's name Potter did this.

"Inside or outside?" Potter asked. "I'm rather outside, you can run faster then."

His eyes still narrowed at the two teenagers Snape wondered for a moment why Potter would want to run if he could fly on a broom that would even be faster than running, but then Tracy gave her answer.

"Outside. I like the wind on my face and the birds singing and the sun shining. Homework or housework during the holidays? I rather would help mum cooking than doing homework."

There was a moment during which Potter laughed instead of answering the question. Yet, Snape noticed that it was a rather harsh laugh, one that actually made him shivering.

"Homework." Potter finally said. "Because I never have the chance to do them during the holidays."

"Why not?" Tracy now asked curiously, turning her head backwards to have a glance at the Gryffindor and for a moment Snape could only see the back of her head.

Potter again laughed and this time Snape recognized that it indeed was a bitter laugh.

"Because I have to do the entire housework during the summer and just once I would like to rather do homework instead of scrubbing floors and windows and cooking or doing the laundry. Reading or writing?" Potter asked quickly enough so the girl could not ask further questions on that particular subject. "I personally like reading. I can enter a different world then, be whatever I want to be instead of being what everyone expects me to be."

"Reading. I like to read new books and get lost in them, dream of what is written there." His Slytherin said. "Spaghetti or pumpkin cake? I just love spaghetti and each holiday my mother would cook them the evening I come home from school."

"Uhm." Potter made. "I don't know what spaghetti tastes like, so I guess better being safe than sorry and I say pumpkin cake."

That was strange, Snape thought. Potter lived with a muggle family. Surely he knew what spaghetti were. But then, well, Potter had not said he didn't know what they were. He rather had chosen a strange wording and said he did not know what they tasted like.

"Flying or flooing?" Potter then asked. "I prefer flying. Whenever I travel per floo, then I end up with my face on the floor."

"Flying, for the same reason, I hate the floo. A brother or a sister? I would like to have a little sister. That would be nice, I guess."

Potter huffed for a moment before he answered. "Honestly, you got me now. I can't answer that one. I have a cousin and that is enough for a live time. I surely would need neither a brother nor a sister."

"Ok, but then it's my turn again to ask." The girl said and Potter nodded.

"Sure. Ask another question." He said and turned his head to face her. His gaze instead fell on him, Snape, at the same time as the girl asked her question "a lake or a river?" and the boy seemed to be startled out of his wits, stiffening and something akin to fear crept into those damn green eyes. "I like a lake because it would be too dangerous to swim in a river and we have a small lake near our home where I can swim in during the summer months."

Potter didn't answer but kept staring at him and Snape gestured to him to answer the question, to continue the game and at seeing that he wasn't angry Potter nearly seemed to relax. Nearly. His body language still screamed 'fear'.

"A river." He slowly and carefully said, his eyes still on him, Snape. "Because you could drift away with the tide." Again there was a pause and still Potter watched him as if he did not dare leaving his eyes off of him and again he motioned the boy to continue. What was it with Potter? He surely wasn't that intimidating that he would stun the brave Gryffindor into silence.

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"You've been in the Professor's office with Potter?" Draco asked. The boy had been sleeping earlier and right now Crabbe and Goyle filled him in of what had been happening while he had been in the land of the dreaming. "Why? Has he hurt you?"

"No, he hasn't." Tracy answered and Snape could see the curious look on the blond boy's face. "He has done nothing. We only played a game of questions and answers. And it really helped. I felt better afterwards."

"Why in Merlin's name would Potter comfort one of us? He's a Gryffindor." Blaise said while shaking his head.

Theodore had a strange look on his face while he cast a glance towards the Gryffindors, again, just like he'd had the night before when he'd had called Potter over, Snape noticed.

"And why did no one of you notice Tracy being miserable?" Draco growled at the other Slytherins. "We're Slytherins and we stuck together. Remember that one?"

"What the hell have you been doing, mate?" He heard Weasley asking at the same time, glaring at Potter, his face nearly twisted in disgust and Snape looked over at the Gryffindors. "Davis is a Slytherin!"

"Really?" Potter asked. "I wouldn't have noticed if you wouldn't have pointed it out, thanks for that bit of information."

Snape, who right now tried to listen to two conversations at the same time, nearly snorted at the sarcasm Potter displayed. The brat definitely showed some talent when it came to that, even if this was new to him. To his knowledge Potter never before had shown such traits that were more Slytherin than Gryffindor.

"Well I've been sleeping." Millicent and Daphne answered at the same time.

"You know how Greg and I are with girls." Crabbe growled.

"I do not care how you are with girls, Vince." Draco answered. "This situation is an emergency and if one of us is in need of comfort then each of us should be ready to give it. Even the two of you."

Well, Draco definitely had a point. That it was at least what he taught his Slytherins from their first year on. Slytherins stuck together as no one would aid them outside of their own house. At least that was what had been normal up to now. As it seemed, Potter made an exception – once again.

"What's wrong with you, Harry?" Weasley shook his head at Potter, sounding angry and Snape knew that the red head was close to snap. "Why do you not stick to us Gryffindors but go and mix over with the Slytherins?"

"Because right now it's not important which house you are from." Potter answered, sounding nearly as angry as Weasley, but more in control of his anger. "I already have told you, right now they are sitting in the same boat as are we."

"Maybe, but honestly, mate. They are Slytherins!"

"Just stop it, Ron. Davis was miserable and if I could help her, then why not doing so? You're a right prat right now, you know? I would do the same for each of you too."

"Well, I guess, all in all, Potter had been trying to help then." Draco's thoughtful voice reached through the words of the Gryffindors. "As strange as it is."

"Well, maybe he just knows that maybe we will die down here too." Theodore answered quietly. "And maybe he doesn't want to die with a fight against us. We're all in the same position, aren't we?"

"Maybe." Draco nodded and Snape was nearly proud at the boy. "You might have a point."

"Me? A right prat?" Weasley glared at Potter unbelievingly. "You are the one conspiring with the Slytherins! They are the enemy. Even Dean and Finnigan said so."

"Hey, leave us out of this, Ron." Finch-Fletchley said.

"But you agreed earlier!" Weasley said accusingly.

"We only agreed that Harry acted strange." Thomas answered. "Not that it was wrong what he did."

"They are students like we and they are miserable like we." Potter said and Snape couldn't help but seeing a point in what the brat said. "Just stop this, Ron. They are the same like we."

"They're not!"

"No?" Potter now asked, getting to his feet, staring at Weasley, shaking his head too now. "Do they not breathe the same as we do? Do they not eat and sleep and walk the same way we do? And do they not bleed the same red blood as we do? They were born the same way we were and they will die the same way we will. And as it seems right now, it is in the truest sense of the word."

"Yes." Weasley admitted. "But they don't feel like we do."

"They do, Ron." Potter huffed. "They feel the same fear, they feel the same hunger and they feel the same tiredness as we do. They are not different."

"Harry's right, Ron." Granger said and Snape nearly rolled his eyes. It surely was a first time that Granger admitted someone else than herself being right.

Draco walking over to the Gryffindors caused the Potions Master to leave his desk and walk over to the ingredients cupboard to inspect what was stocked in there. He was closer to them this way and he didn't trust the situation when his Slytherins and the Gryffindors came together. Even if it didn't look like a fight Draco and Potter might pull.

"I heard what you did with Davis, Potter." Draco said upon reaching the table the Gryffindors were seated around. "And I wanted to say thank you for helping one of us."

Potter actually blinked at Draco stupidly for a few seconds before opening his mouth, closing it, and then opening it again, looking like a fish on the shore before he actually got an answer out.

"You're welcome, Malfoy." Potter said. "But right now, I guess one of us means one of us all. Does it matter right now which house we are from?"

This time it was Draco who gasped for words while blinking stupidly at Potter and Snape shook his head. The boy normally had a better control over himself than what he displayed right now. On the other hand, well, Potter's words really would startle him too if he had not heard the Gryffindors' conversation earlier.

"Yes, I guess you're right, Potter." Draco finally said. "So – no fights, as long as we're down here?"

"A truce? Yes, of course." Potter answered, a mixture of a barely recognizable smile and an amount of mistrust on his face. "Until we're out of here."

"Yes, in the long run it would be boring." Draco agreed and Snape only could be grateful for the two boys. He would not have to deal with fights right now as it seemed.

"Indeed." Potter said. "I guess that are two points to Slytherin then." The brat actually got up and took a piece of chalk, and then began to draw a list on the black board, containing a column for Slytherin and one for Gryffindor, which he wrote on the top of each. And he placed two dots into the Slytherin column.

"Had it not been you, Potter, who had implied that houses would not be important in this situation?" Snape couldn't help but asking and the brat flinched for a moment before turning towards him, looking up at him with startled and frightened eyes, as if he feared he would be angry for a Gryffindor making a truce with one of his Slytherins.

"Uhm. Yes, sir." Potter slowly answered. "Sorry for that, sir."

The Potions Master kept quiet, his eyes studying the boy intently and the Gryffindor soon began to squirm under his gaze, fidgeted with the hem of his robe. So, Potter did not worry about the truce, but about the mentioning that houses were not important right now. And he was the head of Slytherin house after all. So – as it seemed, Potter feared he might be feeling offended by that.

"There's no reason to be, Potter." He finally said, taking a rug and wiping out what the boy had written on the blackboard. He noticed the disappointed look that crossed Draco's face for a moment and the look on Potter's face that bordered on hurt, before he took the chalk and wrote Draco's name on the board, drawing two points behind the name.

Underneath Draco's name he wrote Potter's, followed by two points too. He gazed back at Potter and actually noticed a small smile on the brat's face. Growling he turned and went back to his desk.

Previously in twenty-one days

He noticed the disappointed look that crossed Draco's face for a moment and the look on Potter's face that bordered on hurt, before he took the chalk and wrote Draco's name on the board, drawing two points behind the name.

Underneath Draco's name he wrote Potter's, followed by two points too. He gazed back at Potter and actually noticed a smile on the brat's face. Growling he turned and went back to his desk.

Chapter four

Day two

Tuesday, third of September

He had cooked another few of the cataneo roots and again he had handed them over to the students, now watching Potter and Weasley as close as he watched his Slytherins. The both of them hadn't been talking a word together since the truce Draco and Potter had made but at least Weasley seemed to accept it as did each other of the Gryffindors. And the Slytherins, he thought, feeling something like relief at the thought.

As it seemed, Potter possessed the same leadership traits as did Draco and as Potter had proven himself to be the calmest and most reasonable on the Gryffindor side, ready to help out and ready to come up with ideas, just as Draco was on the Slytherin side, he had no abjections against it. It might sound strange, Potter being reasonable and helpful in such a situation, but it seemed to be true.

He rather had expected Potter being one of the first to complain. Yet – the brat didn't. In the contrary. He had to admit, since this damn situation had started, Potter had accepted the situation as it was, had looked for ways to make it easier for all of them and had even placed his prejudices aside in order to keep everything calm and smooth.

And right now Potter was giving the root he was meant to eat to Miss Brown who had been complaining about those roots not doing anything against her hunger. It was the second time now Potter had given food away to others. And as it was the second day without any food for Potter in this case, he doubted that the brat simply did not like the earthy taste of the roots. He was sure that Potter was definitely hungry enough to eat them even if he didn't like them.

He would wait a few minutes and then he would have a talk with the brat who right now rather looked like a monster than like a boy of fourteen years. The brat had tired, red eyes from lack of sleep in a face that was thin and pale and the black hair was even more unruly as it was normally.

It was then that the brat took out his potions book and began to read again, probably trying to get his mind off the hunger he felt. Well, the boy had read in the transfiguration book all day, and hadn't he mentioned that those two books were his only left since he had created the mattresses with his other books?

Draco too had his potions book out, trying to get his mind off this entire mess. As had some others, including Granger who had fought over her book bag and surely had each book she had bought at Diagon Alley during the summer in it, even if she would not have needed them yesterday for classes.

Theodore cast nervous glances towards him and Snape sighed, left his desk and went towards the laboratory. He would have to try the floo again anyway and on his way back to the classroom he could get some dreamless sleep potion for the boy. He would need it after being awake last night.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry felt ready to drop right were he sat.

He knew this feeling all too well, and he did not like it, knowing that it was weakness, knowing that maybe he had calculated wrongly and he would not have as much time as he thought. He felt rather more dizzy and ill than he actually should right now. And he didn't understand it either. While with the Dursleys, he not only had not more to eat than he had right now, but he had to work himself into exhaustion each day too. He hadn't had to do this right now. So – what was wrong with him?

Well, maybe it was because he hadn't slept last night. He hadn't had much sleep during all the time with the Dursleys and he hadn't slept well during the first night back either. So – yes, he of course was tired. More than tired. And last night he simply had not dared to sleep at all. At the Dursleys he could sleep at least two or three hours each night, even if knowing that his uncle would wake him up with each nightmare he had, and even if knowing that his uncle would beat the shit out of him then, but knowing that it couldn't be helped either and that it would end on September the first anyway, when he would return to Hogwarts.

And he wouldn't scream during each nightmare anyway, so there were times when he could sleep a few hours without a beating. It was different here.

Well, yes. No one would beat him here, he knew that. But alone the thought of the other Gryffindors, not to mention the Slytherins and Snape, knowing that he had those nightmares, it made him shiver with fright. They would have their field day if they knew. None of them had been a jerk, that was true, yes. And Snape even had been – friendly. But that didn't mean that they wouldn't hold it against him later, when this all was over.

If this would be over eventually.

Well, he wasn't the only one miserable. They all were. And honestly, Ron was close to snapping into two, Hermione and Neville were silent and not quite themselves, somehow withdrawn. Lavender and Parvati were crying together every now and then and Seamus and Dean nearly had been fighting over their roots earlier. They all were close to panicking, he was sure about that.

So, he just had to be the strong one for now, until this mess was over and they were out of the dungeons. He would not going to fail his fellow Gryffindors, not even the Slytherins with whom he had made a truce, that weren't even 'Slytherins' anymore but just fellow students in the same misery. And surely he would not fail Snape, no matter what. Snape needed at least a few of them calm and sane and if he could do that, then he would. He simply would have to deal with everything as he always did. He just would carry through as good as possible to the end, as always. Whatever end it was that awaited them.

He simply wasn't stupid enough to think that they would get out of this so easily. No one had come during two days now and he doubted that someone would come anytime soon. He doubted that they would actually die down here – somehow. But they surely would not have an easy time during the next few days.

If he just would find a way to avoid sleep tonight somehow. He was so tired, he was sure he would fall asleep as soon as most of the others had settled and silence had settled in the room. And Snape had already been annoyed last night, with all his cleaning. He hadn't said anything after he had called him into his office, but he had seen it. The way Snape had watched him, with a dark face, his dark eyes blazing with anger.

Well, as always. It wasn't anything new here.

Maybe if he would find something to do in Snape's office, or in the lab. Then Snape would not have to watch him and he would not annoy him. But somehow he doubted that. Snape would always be annoyed at him, even looking at him annoyed Snape.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Of course the floo still had been closed, as had been the door to his office, to the corridors, and of course he again had not been able to call his house elf down here. Not to mention that still Marlow wasn't back in his frame, whatever kept this wretched wizard away from them. He would kill him as soon as he came back. And he would kill him again if he came back without information.

Well, he had known it would be this way.

Going through the cupboards and shelves in his laboratory he couldn't help but thinking back at Potter who had had this blasted small smile on his face when he had written his name on the board and given him two points. Potter definitely had been really happy about it, gaining points from him, Snape.

Well, yes – he had to admit that it was the first time he had given Potter a single point instead of taking them from the brat. Nevertheless he had thought that the Gryffindor would accept the points stoically. As stoically as he had been since they had been locked down here. But he hadn't. He had been smiling at him. And seeing this smile, a smile that had been so much like Lily's smile, it nearly had been his downfall. Blasted brat!

Yes, the brat had Potter's unruly mop of hair. And yes, he had Potter's face and his glasses reminded him just the more at Potter senior. And some of his rule braking was just like Potter too. The strolling through the castle at nights, sneaking down into the kitchens for food after curfew. And his thoughtless actions too.

But honestly, there was so much that reminded him at Lily right now too.

His need to help others, his ability to stay calm for the sake of others, his green eyes that expressed so much with one single gaze of them, and his smile he had shown him earlier. Potter – if he liked to admit it or not – was truly Lily's son too. Thinner, more serious and sad somehow, more frightened, but definitely Lily's son, and for a moment he was glad that he had not snapped at the boy when he would have had the chance doing so, that he had caused the blasted brat to show a small smile for once.

And for a moment he wondered why in Merlin's name Potter was as thin as he actually was. And as tired. And why he had not slept last night. Narrowing his eyes at the door to the classroom he wondered if maybe Potter had nightmares too, just as Theodore, and that he simply had not dared to fall asleep. Yes. He really would have to have another word with Potter.

And with Theodore too. He couldn't allow the boy to stay awake every other night. It simply wasn't an option. The boy needed his sleep right now to stay calm and sane, to sleep away the worst pain hunger would bring soon, to sleep away the worries and fears that soon would arise in the students. More than now at least.

Narrowing his eyes at the door again he wondered where from Potter had known that sleep would help. He had told Weasley yesterday to go to sleep, had said it would help with the hunger. Wherefrom had he known this? It wasn't normal for a student to know such a thing, now, was it? And how had the brat known that the cataneo root wasn't poisonous? Shaking his head he simply took another vial of dreamless sleep. He would see if Potter would sleep tonight.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Theodore?" Snape quietly asked, lowering himself down so that he had one knee on the floor beside the boy's mattress. There was no need for all the others to know that he gave the boy a dreamless sleep potion. Theodore was too uncomfortable about it already as it was without every one of the others knowing.

"Yes, sir?" The boy asked, his voice as quiet as his had been and looking over at the other side of the boy he noticed Draco being asleep. Somehow he wondered how that boy managed to lay down and sleep, never mind what situation he was in, never mind how long he had been awake and how long he had been sleeping earlier. He himself lay awake for hours sometimes.

A slight smile tuck at the corners of his lips while watching his godson for a moment.

"It is not night yet, Theodore, but definitely late enough for you to try and sleep as you have not had your eyes closed last night." He said, simply reaching the vial with the dreamless sleep potion towards the boy who took it with relief showing on his face.

"Thank you, sir." The boy murmured.

"You're welcome, Theodore." Snape quietly answered. "Take it as soon as you are ready for bed. You can give the vial back tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir." The boy answered and the Potions Master was about to get up just when his snake gazed back at him. "Sir?"

"Yes, Theodore?" Snape asked, lowering his head towards one side.

"Do you think that we will be out of here soon? I mean, you said so, but do you truly believe it?" The boy asked and Snape couldn't help but giving away a sigh. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, ignoring the slight flinch.

"I cannot be sure, Theodore." He then slowly answered, sensing the question that truly was on the boy's mind but which he had not dared to ask. "And I truly do not know the answer to your unspoken question. But yes, I do believe that we will be out of here soon enough to prevent death. None of you will die down here. I do believe that, and I want you to believe that too. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." The boy answered, yet – by the look on the boy's face and the way he lowered his eyes he knew that the boy didn't believe him.

Sighing again he released the teenager's shoulder and grabbed his chin, forcing the boy to look at him.

"I really do want you to believe that, Theodore, as that is what will happen." He sternly said. "We will be out of here alive, all of us. It might take the headmaster a bit longer as we originally thought and hoped, but he will manage to find a way. He would not be Albus Dumbledore if he would not find one. And meanwhile we will search for a way too. Do you understand?"

The "yes, sir" he gained this time was much more confident than the one before had been and he nodded satisfied.

"I do have a few more vials of dreamless sleep down here and I do have enough ingredients for brewing another batch if necessary, even if I doubt it. You do not have to fear about that however. But nevertheless I want you to think of a way for sleeping without the potion as I do not like you being awake every second night. You should sleep as much as possible as do your classmates. It is important as it will keep your strength together. Not to mention that sleep deprivation only will leave you with depression, fear and exhaustion. Nothing that will help us right now."

"But sir …" The boy began and Snape quickly held up his hand to stop him, giving him a stern gaze.

"I did not imply that you have to do so right now. I merely suggested that you might think about a solution, nothing more and nothing else. It is worth a thought at least. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, sir." The boy said, this time misery clearly audible in his voice.

"Good." Snape nodded. "What is your shoulder doing?" He then asked.

"My shoulder is fine, sir, thank you." Theodore answered and this time he even smiled a bit.

"Good." Snape again said. "See that you tell me if it changes. What is your back doing?"

"That one is fine too, sir." The boy answered and again Snape nodded.

"Good, then I suggest you get ready for bed, take the potion and then try to sleep as long as possible."

"Yes, sir." The boy answered and got up to visit the bathroom that was attended to the laboratory and to get ready for bed, leaving Snape watching him with a grim expression on his face.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing, Potter?" The low feral growl in Snape's dark voice made Harry flinch and turn rather quickly on the table he was standing atop, turning away from the shelf he was about to clean out, nearly losing his footing in the process and he could feel fear settle in his stomach, his heartbeat speeding up for a moment. Ok, then it had not been such a good idea to clean out the Professor's office, maybe the bathroom or the kitchen would have been a better idea. He tried his best to hide the fear that crept up into his chest from the older wizard in the room but he knew that he failed the moment his eyes fell on the teacher that stood in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest, his dark eyes piercing him and his face a mask of indifference he always wore. Nevertheless he could detect the annoyance in the pale face of the man.

"Stop this annoying cleaning, Potter and go to sleep." Snape said in the same low growl.

"Uhm …" Was all he could get out for the moment, even if he knew that the Professor hated such incoherent answers and he took a deep breath to get his nerves back under control. Damn, he had been through worse at the Dursleys and his nerves shouldn't betray him now the way they did.

Uncle Vernon would already have beaten him to death because he would have found a reason to blame him for the situation. Snape wouldn't do so. He neither blamed him, nor would he beat him.

And at the Dursleys he wouldn't have something to eat either, with the exception that he would have to watch them eating whereas here they all were in the same situation. Neither would have to watch others eating while being hungry. There wasn't any unfair situation aside from the fact that the situation itself was unfair to them all in the first place. But that was something they all would have to deal with. So – no, he had no reason to lose his nerves.

'Maybe the difference lies in the fact that you are trying to get the man's approval.' A small voice in the back of his mind answered and startled he hitched a breath.

"Eloquent as always, I see." Snape drawled, his dark eyes still piercing him, yet – they were not as angry as they normally were when they fell on him. And the Professor's voice too did not sound as angry as it normally sounded when addressing him. Strange, he couldn't help thinking for a moment.

"Well, sir." He answered, still not really able to suppress his fear. Maybe he was just too tired, maybe he was just too hungry, or maybe the situation reminded him just too much at Private Drive. "I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, so I thought I could get some work done instead. I mean … well …"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before he ran his hand over his face tiredly.

He doubted that Potter really wouldn't be able to sleep, he just did not want to and he had a good idea as to why. He had watched the brat last night and from what he had observed – well, the boy was afraid, most likely because of the situation, as they all were. And nevertheless, he knew there was more.

The boy was more jumpy than ever before, he threw fearful glances towards him, Snape, every now and then. He was more silent than he was normally and his bend shoulders and stance indicated not only fear but - pain as well. The teen's green eyes were not Lily's bright green but a dark one and somehow he doubted that this was the natural color of the boy's eyes. He had seen them brighter last year, and the year before and in Potter's first year.

'But are they not the color they are at the beginning of each year?' A small voice asked in the back of his mind and he narrowed his eyes. Yes, they were, he couldn't help answering this small voice.

All in all, Potter radiated fear, even if he tried to hide it.

Again he remembered the smile the brat had shown him earlier, when he had written his name on the board and when he had given him two points. It had been a smile, even if a hesitant one, a small one, one that clearly showed the brat had not only been surprised but grateful as well.

Yes, somehow that wasn't the Potter he knew.

All he had seen since Monday, since they were locked down here, indicated that there was something wrong with the boy and the more time passed the more it became clear. His annoying need to do work instead of sleeping, his damn need to comfort others without a single thought of self preservation and the way he had told Weasley that they all were in the same boat, the way he had been ready to make a truce with Draco, something he had not expected from Potter. Again he was reminded at Potter telling Weasley to sleep and Potter knowing that the cataneo root was not poisonous.

Well, those were the biggest signs, but there were smaller signs as well and he was someone who knew how to read people's body language and to hear between the words they said. And he knew how to interpret the subtle layers of personality that covered the people too. It was a skill that simply was vital for his survival as a spy and now that the boy had his attention, he easily noticed more than he had wanted to notice.

Sighing he waved Potter over and pointed at the chair that stood in front of his desk while he himself sat onto the edge of the wooden table.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter." He said, noticing the startled gaze from the boy when he did not call him 'Potter' but 'Mr. Potter'. Well, he simply couldn't deny that Potter acted in this situation like he expected his Slytherins to act and maybe he could handle Potter like he would handle one of his snakes, as strange as this thought might be right now. Maybe if he talked to him like he talked to his snakes, maybe he would get what he wanted from the boy.

Once more he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while Potter sat down, hesitantly and unsurely.

"I have watched you since we are in this situation, Mr. Potter." He began, trying to keep his voice low and neutral. "And you have proven yourself able to act sanely and wisely, even friendly towards the Slytherins, providing comfort to others, and I am pleased with what I have seen from you. You behaved like I expect one of my Slytherins to behave right now."

He noticed Potter's eyes growing large with surprise before the boy blushed and then looked aside and he lifted an eyebrow, realizing that the brat wasn't used to praise from him. Well, that had to be expected as he never before had given praise to Potter and yet he would say it again as it was the truth.

"And nevertheless, Mr. Potter, we are sitting in here for the second time within two nights, discussing your sleeping patterns." He silently continued. "So, care to explain as to why you avoid sleep by cleaning out the classroom or my office, despite the fact that you look as if being ready to drop at any moment?"

There were a few moments during which Potter said nothing, just blinked at the floor, startled, hesitant, unsure and again he clearly could see the word 'fear' written over the brat's forehead in red letters. Now however there was something else mixed to it and the only name he could add to it right now was frustration.

"Well, sir." Potter finally began, his voice as hesitant as his appearance was. "I'm just too worried over the situation. I wouldn't be able to sleep right now."

"I thought we were over this need to hide some things, Mr. Potter." Snape said. He wasn't entirely sure, but he had a good guess at what impact his next words would have on the boy, at least would he had been one of his Slytherins. "And to be honest, then I have to admit that I am disappointed. I thought that you had seen that you could trust me by now."

Well, by judging the teen's startled and considerably paling face correctly, he had been right. The boy right now felt frustrated by himself and most probably he silently cursed himself. And the murmured "I'm sorry, sir" he gave away, was proof enough that he was right again. Damn, the brat seemed to be close to tears right now and he narrowed his eyes at him. Was his, Snape's, opinion really that important to Potter? Since when? What had happened to the hate the boy always had felt towards him?

Sighing again and momentarily running his hand over his face Snape shook his head in confusion.

"Would you like to try it again, Mr. Potter, explaining why you so desperately avoid sleep?" He then asked.

Again there were a few moments of silence during which Potter hung his head before he bent lower and ran his arms around his midsection in a gesture of self-protection before he finally answered, in such a small voice that he had to listen closely to understand the words at all.

"Because I have nightmares. Sometimes."

"And you do not wish the Slytherins to notice it." He nodded. He had thought as much.

"No one knows about them." Potter murmured and Snape couldn't resist lifting his eyebrow at the boy.

"Not even your fellow Gryffindors?" He asked and the only answer he got this time was a slight shaking of Potter's head.

"How have you been able to keep this hidden from your dorm mates?"

"I have used a silencing spell." Potter murmured, his face blushing furiously.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" Snape's growl made him look up and immediately Harry realized he had made a mistake as he got a good look at his teacher's face. Snape was pale but his dark eyes were narrowed and a vein was throbbing on the man's neck and Harry feared, like he often did with uncle Vernon when the man's face went purple, that Snape was going to explode and have a heart attack.

He considered saying that it wasn't important and that Snape shouldn't mind him but then the older wizard ran a weary hand over his face and sighed before the black eyes settled on his face again and the older wizard sighed once more and folded his arms in front of his chest, looking much too intimidating for Harry's comfort and he remained silent.

He was angry beyond reason and he knew he had to calm down if he didn't want Potter being startled out of his wits. The teen was already jumpy enough as it was. But honestly, why in Merlin's name couldn't Minerva keep her lions from using those spells while being with their own? Sometimes this woman drove him to madness and honestly, he shouldn't wonder why the Gryffindors were the way they were as they were left to themselves by their head of house.

Of course he knew that Minerva cared about her lions, but honestly, sometimes he doubted her sanity.

"Mr. Potter." Snape said with a sigh and the man's tone was calm and strangely gentle. "Kindly inform me as to how often you use those spells and as to how long you suffer from nightmares in the first place!"

"I always use them in the dorm before I go to bed, sir." Potter murmured, addressing rather the floor beneath his feet than him. "I don't want to wake the others …"

"Did you ever consider the fact, Mr. Potter, that nobody can wake you from a nightmare if you use a silencing spell as no one can hear you then?"

Potter's head snapped up at him, confusion and uncertainty written all over his face and the green eyes blinking in near shock at him.

"But … but why … why would anyone want this?" Potter had the nerve to ask and again Snape had to grit his teeth for a moment to stop himself from snapping at the foolish boy. Had the damn brat never been woken by his relatives when he'd had a nightmare at home that he was so startled at his question?

"Would you do me the favour, Mr. Potter, and tell me what your relatives did when you had a nightmare at home?" He asked out of curiosity.

"They did nothing!" Potter answered and Snape couldn't help but narrowing his eyes at the boy.

The answer had been a bit too quick for his liking and the boy sounded too much as if he tried to defend them for his liking either. Something in the boy's words and tone worried him and for a moment he was tempted to ask how much he had been sleeping and more importantly how much he had been eating at home during his summer holidays. But knowing that he wouldn't get any straight answer out of the boy right now and knowing that he wouldn't do any good to either of them right now, he swallowed the question and simply nodded.

"Be it as it may." He finally said. "For now I will provide you with dreamless sleep potion, Mr. Potter. You can take it only every second night however, as it would be addictive if you took it each night. For those nights during which you cannot take the dreamless sleep however, we will find another solution. And I do not want you to use such spells either if you are back in your tower, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Potter murmured miserably and with another sigh he reached into the pocket of his robes and took the second vial he had taken from his stocks earlier. He reached the vial towards the boy who cast an unsure gaze at him and he actually had to give him an encouraging nod, as if to ensure the brat that he was allowed to take it, before he finally took it with trembling fingers, uncorked the vial and downed its contents quickly.

"Thank you, sir." Seemed to be all the boy was able to get out at the moment and he nodded.

"Go to bed, Mr. Potter and sleep." He simply said and the boy turned and was about to leave when a thought struck him.

"And, Mr. Potter." He called the boy back and again Potter turned, this time towards him, casting an unsure gaze at him. "It has been you, Mr. Potter, who said that houses are unimportant at the moment. In some way indicating that Slytherin and Gryffindor do not exist down here right now. And if there are no two different houses, then I am not head of Slytherin right now, but simply your teacher and my responsibility belongs to each of you in the same way. So I expect you to address me if you have any troubles or problems. Is that clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir." Potter answered after a few seconds during which he looked at him, blinkingly, shocked again, as if he had grown suddenly two added heads like this blasted three headed dog Hagrid once had brought to school, in Potter's first year.

"Good, Mr. Potter." He growled. "See that you remember that. Good night."

"Good night, Professor." Potter answered, again after a few seconds during which he hesitated, before he finally turned and left the office, silently closing the door behind him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

When he left his office a few minutes later and entered the classroom, he noticed that most of the students were sleeping by now.

Granger was laying on her mattress, reading, as was Longbottom and Draco too was in a horizontal position, awake but his mind elsewhere. Theodore was one of those fast asleep and he went over to the boy. He knelt down beside him, his head lowered to one side and he watched the boy's pale but restful face for a short moment, running his hand through the short brown hair for a moment before he turned towards Draco who watched him sleepily.

"Sleep, Draco." He said in a tired voice. "That's the best you can do right now. Tomorrow will be a new day and we will see what it might bring."

He stood when the blond boy nodded and after a second of hesitance he went towards the Gryffindor side and knelt beside Potter's mattress, Draco's eyes following him as well as Granger's and Longbottom's. He extended his hand, keeping it for a moment mid air, before he carded his fingers through the unruly mop of black hair, just as he had done with Theodore before, causing the boy to sleepily open his eyes at him.

"Sleep child." He quietly said, glancing down into the green eyes that watched him sleepily. "I'm tired by myself and I don't have the nerve to deal with you right now. We will talk tomorrow."

He turned and gazed towards Granger and Longbottom when Potter closed his eyes obediently, or simply because he was too tired to keep them open any longer.

"You two as well." He said. "Sleep. It's the best you can do right now."

Previously in twenty-one days

He turned and gazed towards Granger and Longbottom when Potter closed his eyes obediently, or simply because he was too tired to keep them open any longer.

"You two as well." He said. "Sleep. It's the best you can do right now."

Chapter five

Day three

Wednesday, fourth of September

He entered his classroom after – yet again to no avail – trying the floo, the doors, after trying to summon a house elf and finally after heating water to cook another round of the cataneo roots. They would be able to eat them today and maybe tomorrow morning before there were none left and mentally he already had thought of other things safe to eat down here.

Well, there were several plants and other roots he could 'brew' a – kind of 'soup' from for a day or two more and there were several herbs he could use in a tea and add honey into, which he had down here as well. Enough at least so they would be able to cover tea for four or five days more. But after that it would get difficult. After that he actually had to be really carefully.

He could use crushed sunjata roots to several ingredients that were poisonous to extract the poison. Cooked to a kind of soup they would get through two or three more days. It wouldn't be much, but it would be something. All in all, it would keep them alive for at least a week. He wasn't sure what to do if they were still locked down here after that.

He would give them nutrition potions of course, and he had enough ingredients to brew a few more batches so it would last another week for seventeen students – maybe. But nutrition potions wouldn't keep them alive forever and by the time he would have to use this one, they already would be week. Nothing he looked forwards to.

The cataneo roots would take an hour and so he quickly and quietly entered the classroom, knowing that the students all were close to lose their nerves meanwhile.

"What?" Weasley asked the moment he entered the classroom, horror on his face. "Are you crazy, mate?"

"Well, you either can sit here and think about being hungry, or you can do something to get your mind off it." Potter said. "And the best thing to do is to learn."

"But … think about it. Potions?"

"We're in the potions classroom, aren't we? It doesn't matter what we do as long as we do something." Potter answered the red head the moment Snape reached his desk and he had to admit that the brat was right. He just wondered that Potter of all people suggested to learn and – well, potions, of all subjects. "And besides, it might work. We just have to ask."

"Well, you may ask then." Weasley sounded angry now, turning away and throwing himself onto his mattress in a fit of anger and for a moment he was close to snapping at the youngest Weasley. He was fourteen and not four anymore. But then he sighed. He would have to deal with such reactions more often during the next days and he better got used to it. They all were fourteen, yes, but they all were in a situation that was frightening and anything else than easy for them.

They were still children and thus he should allow them to act like children.

Potter, slowly approaching his desk, an unsure gaze on his face, got him out of his musings and he looked up, annoyed at the Gryffindor and his damn Gryffindor-courage. He watched Potter, approaching him slowly, and for a moment he again had the impression that the boy was afraid of him, whatever reason for.

He laid the parchments where he had begun to take notes about the past two days and his stocks of potions ingredients they would be able to use down onto the wooden surface of the table and looked over his desk at the brat.

"Uhm, sorry, Professor." Potter began and now he couldn't help but narrowing his eyes for a moment at the brat.

"Yes?" He then asked, his eyebrow lifted but his face otherwise as indifferent as always.

"Well, I just wanted to ask … well …" Lowering his eyes towards the floor Potter was about to turn and leave.

"Continue, Potter." He growled, trying to keep most of his irritation out of his voice.

"I just … I wanted to ask if maybe we could brew a potion." Potter even took a step back from his desk now and he narrowed his eyes at the brat again. No, that definitely was not the Potter he knew.

"Which one did you have in mind, Potter?" He asked, curious if Potter had given it a deeper thought or if the brat was just trying to get his mind off the situation they were in.

"A nutrition potion maybe, Professor." He said and he actually had to lift his eyebrow. He had been sure that – if the boy would suggest one – then he would suggest dreamless sleep. "That would be the most logical I can think of right now … but maybe … what I thought of … I mean … well …"

"Potter!" Snape snapped. There simply was nothing worse than a student that stuttered at him. He preferred complete sentences in an eloquent and fluid language. "Say what you want to say, Mr. Potter." He added in a more calm voice, reminding himself that Potter was one of those who didn't cause trouble but actually wanted to help.

"Sorry, sir." The brat apologized and Snape couldn't help lifting his eyebrow at him. "I just thought, well, the bezoar would safe one from most poisons. You said so in my first year. So, I just wondered if there would be a possibility to maybe crush the bezoar. And use it in a potion or something like that. I mean, that would allow us to use even ingredients that would be poisonous otherwise."

"I am glad that something got stuck in that brain of yours for longer than a few minutes, Mr. Potter, and I appreciate your attempt to be of help what will get you two more points." He said, hoping that he had chosen his words not too harshly. He really appreciated Potter's wish to be helpful. "But regrettably it wouldn't work. First, you cannot crush the bezoar and second it would be deadly poisonous by itself if you cooked the stone. I wonder however how you come by the information about nutrition potions as those are covered in only NEWT classes, easy to brew, yes, but being dangerous if brewed incorrectly."

"Well, it was mentioned in last year's potions book." Potter answered, blushing furiously what gave his otherwise pale face a deeper red than it originally would have looked like and Snape couldn't help but lowering his head to one side, startled at the fact that the brat actually had looked into his book outside of classes. "Well, in the chapter where healing potions were covered."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. Or had there been a reason as to why he had looked through those chapters during his holidays? Because even if it was in the book, he never covered chapter twenty-seven. He covered those potions with his sixth years only as they were dangerous to brew.

He wanted to have a word with Potter anyway, and he wanted this word with him before their – well – 'breakfast' … so, it might be now.

"If you would follow me into my office for a moment, Mr. Potter." He finally said, getting to his feet. "I wanted to have a word with you anyway."

He went over to his office, adding two points to Potter's name on the board on his way, and closed the door as soon as the boy had stepped in after him.

"Sit down." He said, pointing at a chair in front of the desk, the one Potter had been sitting in the night before, while he rounded his desk and took a seat too.

"Sir?" Potter asked and he could not only see the nervousness the boy felt, but he could hear it in his voice too. He sighed, not quite knowing how to begin.

"Well, Mr. Potter." He finally began, once again pinching the bridge of his nose. "I guess I really could allow you to brew the nutrient potion. I would have brewed it anyway, but I can allow you doing so as I know you want to get your classmates busy so they might not think too much over the situation."

"But those potions won't keep us alive forever." Potter said and it was more a whisper than anything else.

"No, they won't, Mr. Potter, but by tomorrow or the day after tomorrow at the latest, someone will have found a way to get past those wards." Hopefully. He added in his mind, sighing, hoping that he did the right thing in telling things that might be a lie. "Whatever wards that might be." He added, shaking his head. He still had no answer to this.

"Maybe." Potter quietly answered, so quietly, that he nearly missed it, before he looked up and addressed him. "But I guess you know as well as I do that maybe it might take them a few more days or maybe even weeks, Professor." His voice was still low and calm and for a moment Snape wondered how the boy could be so calm when most of the other students were either sobbing or beginning to fight.

"Sorry, sir." Potter quickly added, looking aside.

"That might be, Mr. Potter." Snape finally admitted, piercing the teenager with his dark eyes. "And there is no need to apologize for stating your opinion. Here we however reach the subject I wanted to address you with anyway." His eyes never leaving the teenager in front of him, he leaned forwards. "I have noticed that you do not eat the roots I hand out, Mr. Potter. But as it has been you, who pointed out that it might be a few more days and even weeks, you should know that it is important that everyone, and that includes you too, eats the little that is here."

Sighing in frustration Potter looked at the ground beneath his feet.

"Yes, sir." He murmured, not looking at him and Snape immediately knew that it was an only half hearted answer spoken out of rather guilt than anything else.

"So, care to explain as to why you gave your food away, Mr. Potter?" He asked out of curiosity and maybe to get the teenager to see how important it was.

"Well …" The boy murmured. "They're hungry."

"Oh." Snape couldn't help making. "And you are not?"

"Uhm …" Potter made and this time Snape narrowed his eyes at the teen that definitely didn't want to admit to him that he too was hungry, and he wondered why.

"Well?"

"Well … yes." Potter then murmured before he looked up, nearly defiantly and he again narrowed his eyes at the brat. "But that is different."

"And that might be - why?" He asked, not knowing what the teen was playing at, what he meant, why it would be different.

"I'm used to!" Potter answered angrily, not noticing him furrowing his brows at him. "They're not! They don't know how to handle it! They … they …"

"Please inform me, Mr. Potter, what exactly do you mean with 'they don't know how to handle it'." He silently asked. "And why it is that you would be used to being hungry."

There was a pause during which Potter watched him with startled eyes for a moment and Snape almost could see the wheels in his brain turning, working, until the brat recognized what he had said and he looked aside.

"Well, you don't eat anything either! Sir." The boy then tried to get the subject off himself. Of course - they all did.

"I am not under consideration, Mr. Potter." He growled darkly. "But you are."

"But that's not fair!" Potter still tried to get the subject off himself.

"I never said it was." Snape leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. Something was going wrong right now, he knew it. And he had a bad feeling that he would not like it. "But as I am the adult here, your teacher, and the one in responsibility, it will go the way I say. Thus I am not under consideration, Mr. Potter, but you are. And now try again, Mr. Potter. Or let me rephrase my question into a more direct one. When had been the last time you actually did eat anything?"

"At the welcoming feast! Sir." Potter quickly answered, a bit too quickly for his liking as if he had feared this question might come. And a bit too defiantly too. Again. "As had everyone else!" Potter added.

"And before that? Mr. Potter?" He asked, watching the teenager close.

"The night before." Potter answered. "I didn't have time for breakfast on September the first."

"Forgive me, Potter, but you do look as if you hadn't eaten anything for days before coming back to school, not only missing - breakfast - and I begin to wonder why that might be."

"But I did!" Potter said, his tone still angry and defiant. "The night before I got on the train."

"You already said so, Mr. Potter." Snape calmly said, narrowing his eyes. "And might I ask when you have eaten before that?"

"Uhm …" Potter made, looking aside now, all defiance gone.

"Well?" Snape asked, still calmly, even if he didn't feel calm at all. If Potter tried to avoid answering this question, then it wasn't a good sign. And even if the brat just didn't remember, then this already was bad enough. Potter wasn't half as stupid as he always had given him credit for and thus, if he wasn't able to remember a meal before the last one he had mentioned, then it must have been a long time ago.

"Dunno." Potter finally mumbled. "Can't remember, sir."

"You cannot remember what you had for lunch the day before you got back to Hogwarts?" Snape finally asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Uhm …" Potter made again, yet, he wasn't really annoyed at the teen's lack of articulation abilities. He had a much more bothersome problem at his hands right now. "I didn't have lunch this day."

"You didn't have lunch on that day." Snape repeated, huffing. "And breakfast?"

Potter only shook his head.

Gritting his teeth Snape stood up and rounded his desk, leaning against the wooden table and folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Then tell me, Mr. Potter, and do try to remember, when had been the last time you have eaten?" He asked quietly, with a calmness he didn't feel and again there was a long pause during which Potter didn't look at him but at the floor.

He was just about to ask again when the teenager suddenly draw his arms around his midsection and bent forwards.

"I don't know, sir." Potter finally whispered and he had to listen close now. "It's been a while."

"What is a while in your opinion, Mr. Potter?" He asked, forcing himself to stay calm, his mind racing a mile a minute, wondering why Potter hadn't eaten for a while, not daring to think the worst yet.

"A week or so, I guess." Potter again murmured.

"And might I dare asking how long you have not eaten before that?"

"I don't know, sir." Came Potter's whisper.

Closing his eyes Snape again gritted his teeth.

"And what had it been you have been eaten back then?" He asked, his face becoming darker with each question, yet – Potter only shrugged his shoulders, still not looking at him. Turning back towards the desk and leaning his hands onto the wooden surface for a moment to hide his own frustration he decided to try another approach and to play out the card in his sleeve, just like the night before. He had gotten Potter back then and he would get him now too. He wouldn't be Snape if he wouldn't find a way.

Well, as strange as it sounded to him, but Potter seemed to search for his approval - the same thing his Slytherins searched. So - if his Slytherins didn't want to disappoint him, then maybe Potter didn't want to disappoint him too. Again, as strange as it might sound to him and for a moment he wondered if it always had been this way and he only had never seen it.

"I already told you yesterday, that I really appreciate your calmness in this situation, your goodwill and your ability to look for solutions that might help, to look out to your classmates, trying to comfort them." He said, turning back and gazing at the teenager who already squirmed on the chair, apparently knowing what would come next.

"And I do appreciate the fact that you are ready to lay prejudices aside and handle the Slytherins as you would handle your Gryffindor classmates. But yet again, you do not trust me, Mr. Potter." He said. "Yet again, you try to hide the truth from me. Yet again you do not accept my hand I reach towards you. What makes me feel disappointed. I thought you would be ready to get over your prejudices towards me too by now, Mr. Potter and to be honest, I thought I could rely on you."

The pale face he had in front of him now, looking at him with shock in much too large green eyes, told him enough, he didn't need the small whispered "I'm sorry, sir" Potter gave away and he had to grit his teeth yet again to not back away and give in to the teen he had in front of him.

"So, do you want to try again, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted at him in his typical Snape-manner, his hands held behind his back and his stance rather cold now.

"I just don't get much to eat at the Dursleys, sir." Potter finally murmured towards the floor. "So I had to sneak a slice of bread out of the kitchen every now and then. It just won't work every day."

Seething in anger Snape came closer, not really caring if he scared Potter right now. He was barely able to suppress the fury he felt.

"So, care to tell me, Mr. Potter, as to how often you are able to – 'sneak out a slice of bread'?" He asked.

"Well … twice a week or so. Sometimes. But …"

Suddenly Snape wasn't able to control his rage any longer and he grabbed Potter at the scruff of his neck, lifting him from the chair he was sitting at, ignoring the startled yelp and the flinch when the boy tried to get away from him. His fingers lost the grip on Potter's shirt with the boy's backwards movement and remained splayed in midair for a moment while the teenager scrambled backwards, fearfully, his green eyes wide with alarm.

"Potter!" He barked, reaching forwards and grabbing the teen firmly by the shoulder. "I am not angry at you!" He growled in a low voice, as if trying this way to control his rage, fixing the smaller form that still tried to huddle away from him. "But kindly inform me as to how long this has going on at your relatives' house?"

"Dunno." Potter murmured, watching him warily, trying to shrug his shoulders.

"How long, Mr. Potter?" Snape slowly and in a threateningly silent voice asked again.

"It always has been like that." Potter answered and Snape finally released the boy, shoving him back into the chair while he himself sat at the edge of his desk to prevent himself from pacing his office angrily.

"Potter." He began, not sure what to do next and he ran his hand over his face in frustration.

As it seemed Potter had not eaten a real meal since weeks, had eaten none to nothing in weeks actually, was already too thin. He had noticed it how light he was when he had lifted him from the chair and he had noticed how bony his shoulder was when he had grabbed him. Once more he closed his eyes for a moment, frustration running through him.

As it seemed, Potter would be the first of them to die. Followed by Theodore.

"Harry." He tried again, going from the boy's sure name to his given name to ensure that he had the boy's attention. It really wasn't important how he addressed them all down here. "Is there anything else I should know, Harry?" He finally asked and he only could huff at the headshake the boy gave him.

He only could sigh once more in frustration.

"I want you to eat each – 'meal' … we can get down here." He finally said, coming back to his normal self. At least close to it. "No exceptions. You do already look close to starving. It is important that everyone, and that includes you, Mr. Potter, keeps up as much strength as possible. None of you can afford to miss anything to eat. And you the least."

"If you do the same, sir." Potter had the nerve to answer and for a moment his anger flared anew, this time only at the teenager in front of him and he nearly missed the boy's next words. "You said you are responsible for us. So you have to be strong as well. If you're the first to die, then who will keep the others alive? They won't be able to survive alone."

"As it is, Mr. Potter …" For a moment he was about to say that Potter would be the first one to die and not him, but then he gritted his teeth. He wouldn't do them any good if he told Potter this bit of information. It wouldn't do them any good if he startled Potter more than he already was. And besides, the brat was right.

Yet – he didn't miss Potter's choice of words – the others, and they. The boy already knew.

"Well." He said. "Then be it, Mr. Potter. But never ever again - asbolutely - never - again - question my actions, did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Potter answered, again to the floor. "Sorry, sir."

Snape gave a curt nod before he placed a hand on Potter's shoulder, fixing the teenager with his dark gaze.

"I meant what I said earlier, Mr. Potter." He growled darkly, not used to comfort a Gryffindor. "I am proud of your actions down here since Monday morning. What makes the disappointment in your mistrust towards me just the worse." Well, he had not intended to say that, but he had to admit, it was the truth. "You might brew the nutrition potion after our – 'breakfast'." He added to get his normal and cold demeanour back in place.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape waited until Potter had left his office before he allowed himself to place his forehead on his hand, a silent "Merlin" escaping him and he remembered the game between Tracy and Potter. He should have known back then.

"I don't know what spaghetti tastes like, so I guess better being safe than sorry and I say pumpkin cake."

"I personally prefer the night. Because during the night everyone is sleeping and then I can have a bit of freedom for myself."

"I have a cousin and that is enough for a live time. I surely would need neither a brother nor a sister."

"Summer. Even if summer might not be such a good choice as well, but I never had a Christmas tree to look at."

"Because I have to do the entire housework during the summer and just once I would like to rather do homework instead of scrubbing floors and windows and cooking or doing the laundry."

So – Potter was not only neglected by them, but they kept him as a house elf too. He really didn't have to wonder anymore why the brat never had his summer assignments. Did Albus know about this? Or Minerva? With a huff he shook his head. They surely didn't know. Potter would be the first one who by free will would admit that he was neglected.

"Go and get some sleep, Ron. It helps."

"Cataneo roots are not poisonous."

"Because I have nightmares. Sometimes. I have used a silencing spell."

"I just don't get much to eat at the Dursleys, sir. So I had to sneak a slice of bread out of the kitchen every now and then. It just won't work every day. Twice a week or so. Sometimes."

And now that he remembered and tried to catch the unspoken words, those between the words Potter actually had spoken, he suddenly knew that there was more. As if it would be a wonder. A child that was neglected, most probably was abused too. But honestly, Potter had a slice of bread twice a week? Sometimes? That was more than just simple neglect. That was …

"You could be locked in a cupboard, couldn't you?"

"They did nothing!"

"I don't know, sir. It's been a while. A week or so, I guess."

"But … but why … why would anyone want this?"

"It always has been like that."

"I'm used to! They're not! They don't know how to handle it!"

Blinking in confusion he remembered a letter on Minerva's desk, during summer three years ago, when he had visited her for tea. He had huffed at the letter back then after reading the name. But now, considering Potter's neglect at the hands of his relatives, and considering the boy's comments, the address he had read on the letter made much more sense suddenly.

'Mr. H. Potter

The cupboard under the stairs

# 4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey'

Why had he never seen it before?

He had acknowledged that the boy was ridiculous thin after holidays and this year he even had considered to mention it to Minerva. And he also had acknowledged that Potter always was more jumpy after the holidays. That the word 'fear' somehow seemed to be written in red letters across his forehead.

And then the way his hands had trembled when he had taken the dreamless sleep potion last night. The way he had hugged himself, as if never being comforted by someone else than himself, as if to keep himself from falling apart. The way the brat had smiled at him when he had given him those blasted points. Points! Simple points! And the way the brat had been close to tears afterwards, after telling him that he had been disappointed in him for not trusting him.

Potter never had had an adult who cared. And now that he had shown him the slightest act of caring, the teen nearly had cried when he had told him that he was disappointed in him. Closing his eyes he wondered where in Merlin's name that would lead to. And running his hand over his face he wondered how long in Merlin's name Potter would survive. He had to know more about Potter's actual condition if he …

Well, no. he did not have to know. He already did know. And he knew that there was no way that the brat would survive too long. The boy had nothing on his bones to begin with.

Crabbe, Goyle and Blaze on the Slytherin side, as well as Weasley, Longbottom, Finnigan and Thomas on the Gryffindor side, they would have a hard time, but they had chances to survive at least two or three weeks. Even Bulstrode, Pansy and Daphne as well as Brown and Granger would manage, somehow.

But Draco had not many reserves, and neither had Patil. And Theodore, Tracy and Potter, they would be the first ones to die, with Potter in the clear lead.

After slamming his fist onto the surface of his desk, just to get some of his strain off, he went into the laboratory to get the roots. He would have to use all his brains the next few days. If he wouldn't be able to get them enough to eat so each of them had a chance, then he simply would have to get them out of the dungeons.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

This day wasn't destined however to get any better, as he soon learned.

In the aftermath, he thought that he should have known better, he knew Crabbe and Goyle after all, and even if Weasley wasn't in his house, he knew the youngest red head. And all three of them were the same. They were not only gruffly if they were hungry, they even could get dangerous then.

At least Weasley, as he learned that day.

During the day the Slytherins and the Gryffindors had been coming closer to the small fire that was burning in the fireplace. He knew they were cold, but he didn't dare to light the fire more than he did right now, knowing that they wouldn't have enough wood forever and he couldn't use magic to keep it going or to cast a warming spell. He already had tried those options throughout the past days since they were here in this damn situation.

And thus they all had begun to huddle closer together, as close as possible to the fireplace. And thus it had been easy for Potter to hear Crabbe's comment about being hungry. Not his first one. But – much to his annoyance – Crabbe actually had asked Potter if he wasn't hungry as he only nibbled at his root, slowly, and if he could have it then and Potter – again much to his annoyance – had given the reminder of it to Crabbe who had taken it gladly and for a moment he couldn't suppress his anger.

"Potter!" He called out angrily, followed by a "Crabbe!" and both boys looked up at him, startled. Potter with a guilty look on his face and Crabbe with a questioningly. He really would have to address them with this and he would have to address them now. All of them should eat their rations and none of them should ask others for more.

At the same time Weasley however looked at Potter with a strange look on his face and before he could say something the redhead was up from his mattress he was sitting at and had shoved Potter at the wall to his left.

"What are you doing?" He hissed angrily. "Giving the root to Crabbe? A Slytherin?"

"Stop it, Ron!" Granger stood up too, just the moment when he, Snape, quickly rounded his desk with an angry shouted "Weasley!". "Harry had given one to you yesterday." Granger continued. "And to Lavender too."

"He gives food away to the Slytherins!" Weasley growled darkly and he was just in time to prevent Molly's youngest son from hitting his fist into Potter's face who was strangely frozen, not making any attempts to defend himself. He caught Weasley's wrist and held it in a firm grip, his dark eyes piercing the Gryffindor.

"What a display of behaviour, Mr. Weasley." He hissed. "Going against your own upon a situation that isn't as easy as you are used to. Unhand Mr. Potter this instant." He threatened and only when the boy had released Potter's shirt and thus stopped pinning him against the wall did he release Weasley's wrist.

"Are you alright, Potter?" He asked, his eyes not leaving Weasley.

He only saw the black haired boy nod out of the corner of his eyes before he answered with a silent and chocked "yes, sir" and he gave his attention back to the red haired boy in front of him completely. He knew that Weasley only was hungry, as they all were, but he knew that this was only the beginning and if the boy didn't begin to see reason soon, then the situation would go out of hands within the next two days.

"If I ever see you acting in such a way again, Mr. Weasley, then be assured you will find yourself in quite some trouble." He softly said, too softly for the liking of his Slytherins who knew him well enough to know that this was a dangerous moment. "I won't take house points, I do not even know if it would be possible right now, and neither will I get you scrubbing cauldrons as every one of us has to keep as much strength up as possible. But just to begin with, you might sit yourself onto your sorry behind and write an essay as to what you did, why you did it and what it meant to your friend. Three feet of parchment. You have until this evening."

"But …"

"There are no buts, Mr. Weasley." Snape leaned closer and hissed angrily. "You will write this essay and you will do so now!"

"You're bleeding, Harry." He heard Granger's startled voice coming from his left and he frowned. Weasley had not hitten Potter. But maybe he had shoved him harder into the wall than he had thought and maybe Potter had hit his head. He would have a look at him as soon as Weasley was seated on one of the desks.

"'M fine, 'Mione." He heard Potter answering. "Just forget it."

Watching Weasley stomping towards the desks angrily and getting his parchments, ink and quill out he turned towards Potter, watching the teen over, ignoring the uncomfortable look the boy gave him.

"On his back, sir." Granger pointed out and Snape grabbed Potter's shoulder and simply turned him.

They all had abandoned their cloaks during the day, sparing them for the night, knowing that they would welcome their warmth during the nights that were colder than the days, even with the fire burning. Knowing that they would freeze the more during the night if they kept the cloaks on during the days too. It simply was the same effect as if wearing a travelling cloak during winter inside.

So Potter only wore his shirt, as all of them did, and he easily could see the blood soaking through the area where his shoulder blades were and he sighed. As it seemed the rough stone wall had scraped Potter's skin over the shoulder blades as there was nothing on the boy's bones that would have dampened the impact.

"Into my office, Mr. Potter." He said, shoving the boy into the direction he wanted him in. "Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, you two please see that such a display is not repeated while I am gone with Mr. Potter. If something happens, then however do not hesitate to get me." He turned back towards Potter who still stood frozen to the spot.

"The office, Mr. Potter!" He commanded and again shoved the teenager forwards. "Now!"

Previously in twenty-one days

"Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, you two please see that such a display is not repeated while I am gone with Mr. Potter. If something happens, then however do not hesitate to get me." He turned back towards Potter who still stood frozen to the spot.

"The office, Mr. Potter!" He commanded and again shoved the teenager forwards now seeing the blood that seeped through the boy's shirt for himself. "Now!"

Chapter six

Day three

Wednesday, fourth of September

Guiding Potter towards the stool in front of his desk, his hand on the boy's shoulder, he pushed the teenager down into the chair, while he at the same time wondered wherefrom Potter had the injuries on his back, the blood seeping through the boy's shirt now visibly not only over his shoulder blades but on his lower back too.

Weasley had shoved him towards the walls while gripping him at the front of his shirt close to his throat. Thus yes, the impact had happened to Potter's shoulder blades the most. Of course the boy's lower back surely had come in contact with the wall as well, but not with enough force to leave bleeding cuts. The walls down here in the dungeons were stony walls, yes, but they were not ragged and irregular enough to really cause bleeding injuries upon a simple impact. A bruise, yes, but not really open wounds.

"Remove your shirt, please, Mr. Potter." He said while turning towards a cupboard in one corner of his office to get a cleaning and a healing potion. He really should have known such a situation might happen at one point, should have known how panicky human beings could get, especially as they all were only children. But honestly, he had not thought that it might happen so soon.

Shaking his head and frowning when he turned back towards the boy he noticed that Potter had not removed his shirt but was fidgeting with the hem of it nervously, his gaze lowered to the floor beneath his feet.

"Your shirt, Mr. Potter." He said, forcing himself to stay calm and to not snap at the teenager in annoyance. Potter was uncomfortable enough as it was.

"But I'm fine, sir." The brat answered. "Really."

"Simply follow my order, Mr. Potter and remove your shirt." Snape said, still trying to keep his annoyance under control and out of his voice. "And I will not ask you a fourth time."

Suddenly Potter leaped to his feet and looked at him angrily, again his chin was shoved forwards in a defiant manner, just as he had done earlier in the morning.

"Why would you care anyway?" The brat asked, his voice louder as it had been before. "You are no better than them! You just hate me as well as they do!"

"Would you mind telling me what exactly you are babbling about, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked with his eyebrow raised, he was annoyed and tired and not in the mood to play games.

"That you don't care! Like everyone!" Potter exclained, breathing heavily and Snape slowly but surely got angry by himself.

"I do care, you silly child!" He hissed angrily at the teen. "Otherwise I would not ..."

"You lie!" Potter answered forcefully, interrupting him, his entire form trembling and Snape was sure that the boy was in some kind of shock. Well, of course he was, if he had been attacked by his best friend just moments ago. "Do you even know how many times I cared for myself and looked after my wounds alone because I knew that there was no one who cared and because I knew that the pain of being rejected would be worse than the physical pain?" Potter asked, his voice becoming angrier with each word he gave away. "No one ever cared and neither do you! But I don't care either, you know? I'm used to care for myself! I don't need someone who cares! I have learned to care for myself! So don't pretend you would care now!"

He was breathing heavily by the time he finished his little speech and he angrily wiped his arm across his eyes and glanced up at Snape. The man seemed to be made of stone, his eyes dark and cold and his harsh face set in dark lines, calm and motionless.

But then it happened so fast that Harry barely had any time to brace himself. Strong hands grabbed his upper arms in an iron grip and while Snape seemed to be slightly out of breath the older wizard snarled angrily, his face only inches from Harry's own. "Do inform me, Mr. Potter, what sort of people you grew up with that you think that nobody is going to take care of you while being in such a situation and injured."

It was in that one moment, while Snape again got deadly silent, watching him with narrowed eyes and his face white, that Harry realized that maybe he had said too much and suddenly he felt ill and suppressing a sob he knew he had to get away before he would sick up right here and now in front of Snape.

He broke free from the firm grip that actually hurt and ran towards the door he knew would lead to the bathroom.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

An angry curse sounded from the doorway and Harry flinched as he steadied himself against the toilet and coughed harshly, pain flaring in his stomach. He painfully had emptied what little he had gotten into it a few minutes ago.

The sound of running water reached his ears and then a cool cloth was laid against his neck and a hand that seemed to be just as cold was placed over his forehead, supporting his tired and hurting head. He flinched away from the unexpected touch but instantly the hand that held the cool cloth on the back of his neck applied pressure and held him in place.

Snape knelt beside Potter's small and trembling form, trying to comfort the Gryffindor while he still tried to figure out the teen's words and at the same time he knew that the boy had been right. He already had learned that Potter had been neglected by those muggles that were his relatives and thus he knew that each word the boy had said had been right. No one ever had cared.

"Feeling better?" He quietly asked, trying to keep his tiredness, his anger and his worry out of his voice. That was not what the boy right now needed. He watched Potter close and after a weak and tired nod from the dark haired boy he took the cloth away from the slender neck and gently pulled the small form towards him until the teenager leaned with his back against his chest.

Harry knew that it was Snape he was leaning against, but the coolness of the cloth and the man's hand felt so good against his much too warm face that right now he didn't care. He didn't even care when Snape gently wiped the cool cloth over his face.

Snape glanced at the child before him, not really knowing what to do with the obnoxious Gryffindor but knowing that he right now had to give his comfort to the boy. Potter's green eyes were wide and unfocussed and the child's breathing was just much too quick for his liking while the boy was keeping up an almost annoyingly tirade of apologizing words but the Potions Master had long ago started to not listen to them. They were not only not necessary but they were wrong in the first place.

"Hush child." He softly said. "There is no need to apologize for being ill and there surely is no need to apologize for the fact that no one ever had taken care over you." And right then the boy's words hit him full force, the meaning behind those words and hesitantly he placed his arm around the boy's thin shoulder, pulling the child closer.

No one had ever taken care of Potter, of this child. He had lost his parents in the war and he had been placed with relatives that not only had neglected him but that actually had starved him. And no one had ever cared. The boy had learned to care for himself because no one ever had cared. Himself included. He had allowed his hate towards a dead man, towards James Potter, towards this boy's father, to blind him. No one ever cared about the abused and neglected children, about the unwanted children, no one but him. But he had not cared for this neglected and unwanted child.

Harry could feel Snape pulling him closer until his head too came in contact with a firm chest and he could feel the cool fabric of Snape's shirt underneath his cheek while a hand pushed his own hand that had grasped the front of his shirt, pulling at the fabric in order to get the much needed air into his lungs away before coming to rest over his chest.

"Relax, Potter." A soft voice instructed him and for a moment he really wondered if this voice could belong to Snape. It was ways too comforting and gentle for belonging to the Potions Master. "Take calm breathes, child. In … and out … just focus upon my voice … breathe in … and out … you will get through this …"

Snape could feel the blood of Potter's injuries on his back seep through his own shirt, but right now he didn't care and he waited patiently until he felt that Potter actually relaxed within his arms before he got to his feet, gently pulling the boy up with him on his upper arms.

"Feeling better now, Mr. Potter?" He softly asked, patiently waiting for the boy's nod before he led the boy back to his office and again pushed him down into the chair he had been sitting in earlier.

For a moment he pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that right now the boy didn't need the stern man he normally was. The boy right now needed the head of house he was for his Slytherins. And hadn't Potter said that down here in this situation they weren't Gryffindors and Slytherins? And hadn't he told Potter just last night that he wasn't only the head of Slytherin in this case? That he simply was a teacher to all of them?

He was the head of house to all of them right now and he should begin to act as such.

So kneeling in front of Potter he placed one hand on the boy's knee and the other underneath the boy's chin to pull up the head that was bent, the pale face still troubled.

"Would you please remove your shirt, Harry?" He silently asked. "There is no need to fear anything and surely not your teacher taking care of you. Just remove your shirt and allow me to take care of your injuries. It might not be easy to suddenly trust someone and surely not to trust someone who never had given you any reason to do so. And nevertheless I ask you to trust me now, Harry."

The boy's given name felt strange on his tongue, just like it had felt strange this morning during his conversation with the boy about his neglect at the hands of his relatives. But just like this morning he knew that it wasn't important to keep his distance to the Gryffindors. It wasn't important that he used the student's sure names. It was important that he treated them like he treated his Slytherins.

And it seemed to work. The boy still didn't look at him, but he lifted his hands and started to unbutton his shirt. Slowly, agonizingly slowly and his fingers trembling, but he did.

But the moment the boy had opened the shirt and began fidgeting with the hem of the fabric, the moment Snape could see the boy's chest through the gap in the now open shirt his eyes grew even darker as they normally were and he had to grit his teeth to keep his indifferent mask. Slowly so he wouldn't startle the child that clearly was already frightened enough he took the fabric out of Potter's hands and shoved the shirt off the boy's shoulders.

The damage that he revealed while he took the shirt and simply laid it over Potter's thighs so the boy had something he could occupy his hands with to get his mind off Snape and what he was doing, shook him to the very core. Even the horrors the Death Eaters had loved to inflict upon their victims had been nothing compared to what had been done to this child.

Bruises and barely healing cuts covered virtually every inch of the thin body and Snape could swear that he could count every single bone under the boy's skin and with a gentle hand on one of the thin shoulders he carefully got Potter to turn so he could have a look at the boy's back – and to hide his shock from the boy too.

The boy's back was even worse, he noticed and even if it was nearly impossible to shock the Potions Master that had seen a lot during his work as a spy, he actually was shocked, really shocked, and he actually had to close his eyes and to press his teeth together even harder to prevent himself from hissing in alarm and fury.

Bruises in every forms and colors, covered the boy's back and he immediately recognized them as marks from beatings, accompanied by abrasions, burns and cuts that were barely healing and partially infected. And here too he could count each backbone that stood out prominently and grotesquely, revealing the boy's true starved state.

Those damn muggles had not just neglected the boy. They had starved him and they had beaten him, seriously so and he had to suppress a groan. This morning he had feared that Potter might be the first one to die. Right now he knew it would be that way. If the situation didn't change soon, if they didn't find a way out of the dungeons soon, if he didn't get something more to eat into the boy than a cataneo root twice a day, then Potter wouldn't make it longer than a few days. He even wondered how the boy still was able to keep himself on his feet if his legs were as thin as were the arms that now were revealed to him as nothing more but thin sticks.

Getting to his feet and taking a painkiller from his desk he reached the potion towards the boy with a nearly shaking hand while he promised himself that he was going to ensure that the monsters responsible for this would pay. If they made it out of here alive.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape didn't say anything while he reached him a potion and Harry wanted nothing else than to get back to hearing the older wizard's voice, the man's sarcastic comments, just to distract him from the fear he felt. Anything, even insults would be better than this silence. It wasn't that he enjoyed being insulted, but this silence from the Slytherin head of house was just annoying. It was annoying, not knowing what Snape thought. The man surely was angry at him, but he didn't dare to look up into the Potions Master's face. If he just would say something, then he would be able to hear how angry Snape was.

Watching Potter drinking the potion without even looking at it, his head still bent and his hands still trembling, Snape shook his head and then set about cleaning the boy's injuries and covering them with a mild healing slave. He of course could heal them with a stronger potion, but he only would push Potter over the edge then and into shock. The boy was in no state to deal with too many magical potions right now, his body would not be able to handle magic at all right now he feared. The boy was too thin and malnourished for that and he now knew why the boy always had been so small for his age, now as the fourth year that he was, he was barely as tall as the first years.

He nearly huffed while he remembered the first potions lesson he'd had the boy in.

He actually had walked over to the boy, had seated himself opposite him, not really to give him the answers to the questions he had known the boy wouldn't know. He never did such, seating himself opposite a student. At least not if it wasn't one of his snakes. No, he had done so because he had not believed that the small boy he'd had sitting in his class back then had been an eleven year old first year. And as he had known that Potter junior had been eleven years old, he had went over to the boy to have a closer look at him, to ensure that it really had been Harry Potter.

Moving over to the boy's front he started covering the bruises and cuts over the child's chest. Potter still didn't look at him and his fingers were tangled in the shirt he held in his lap.

"What exactly happened, Harry?" He gently asked, even if he already knew the answer to this question but he knew he had been silent for long enough. The boy's nervousness clearly showed it.

"Just the usual." Potter answered, seemingly struggling to get even a hoarse whisper out and he could tell that the boy still was in some pain. Well, he hadn't given him the normal pain relieving potion but a weaker one, not daring to give him the stronger version.

"I am sure that my usual is different from your usual, Harry." He quietly said, watching the boy close. It wasn't the first time that he had such a talk, but he just never had thought that he would have such a talk with Potter. The boy shrugged his shoulders.

"I do know that you think it is obvious what happened, Mr. Potter." Snape said, keeping his voice still calm and gentle. "And that my question that for is a stupid question, but I simply hoped that you would be able to tell me."

He took the boy's small wrists into his hand, sighing for a moment when he noticed just how skeletal the thin arms and wrists were, feeling nothing under his fingers than bones, sinews and skin. The infected welts that ran around the small wrists told him enough and again he had to keep himself from closing his eyes for a moment.

This was Lily's child, damn, and to see Lily's child being mistreated like that, being tortured like that, suffering like that …

"When did this abuse start, Harry?" He asked, already knowing the answer to this question too. The barely healed cuts, bruises and burns were covering most of the boy's skin, were covering older scars, scars that were years old. "And don't tell me you don't know, Harry. You are far too intelligent to not knowing how long this went on."

There was a long pause during which Potter didn't answer him, still didn't even look at him, but he refused to snap at the boy impatiently. He knew how hard it was for those children to admit everything. And for Potter to admit it to him, Snape, it must seem to be an impossible task.

"Since always." Came the small whisper finally and he nodded.

"And how often did they beat you?" He asked, again knowing the answer. It wasn't a once during a month occurrence. The boy's body simply was too damaged for such. And from what he had learned this morning, the fact that the boy had to – sneak out bread so he had something to eat at least twice a week, it was proof enough that the Dursleys were ready to do everything to get the boy killed.

"Three or four times a week. Normally." The teenager finally whispered, nearly sobbing now and Snape had to prevent himself from giving a dark growl away, had to force himself to keep his distance for now, knowing that Potter wouldn't want to be physically comforted just yet. Knowing that the boy wouldn't continue then.

"If you only would have said something, child!" Snape finally sighed, while covering the boy's wrist with the healing salve too. "To Albus, to Minerva, and yes, even to me. We would have been able to do something."

Well, from the way Potter looked aside he knew that the boy didn't believe him. Maybe he would believe him that he would have tried to help him, that he would have healed him as soon as he was back at Hogwarts, but he didn't believe him that he would have been able – or even tried – to get him out of this household.

"Are you injured anywhere else?" He finally asked

Harry still watched Snape's long fingers surrounding his wrist and he was surprised at how soft Snape's touch was, it was almost careful, even when he had covered them with the healing balm and it was strange. Really strange. He would have bet that Snape couldn't be so gentle and still not looking at the man he shook his head.

"Are you in pain anywhere else?" He heard Snape asking and for a moment he considered to shake his head again but then he nodded, knowing that it wouldn't do any good if he lied to the man right now. Snape would find out anyway and he only would get angry, what he better did not risk right now. Snape already was angry enough.

"Where?" The Potions Master asked, already fearing the worst.

"Everywhere." Potter's voice was nothing more than a frightened and pain filled small whisper, terrified as the first years he had answer him when they first came to his class. But Potter shouldn't be terrified of him, least of all now.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had hated Potter for years, had been so sure that he was arrogant and selfish, just as his father had been. And he had shown his feelings towards the boy quite clearly and with all passion he owned. And he was indeed a quite passionate man. He had loved with passion once and he hated with passion.

"What kind of pain is it?" He asked, his voice too barely above a whisper.

Never mind how much he had hated the boy, during the past days he had learned that the brat wasn't arrogant and that he wasn't selfish either. What he had been mistaking for arrogance had been the last remnants of dignity the boy had kept together somehow to show in form of a mask towards the people, and what he had been mistaking for being selfish had been nothing else than pure survival instinct. It had been nothing else than his Slytherins did.

"I don't know." Potter answered, still in a rough whisper. "Kind of cramps in my limbs. Sort of."

Nodding Snape sighed again in frustration. The boy's muscles cramped because of the lack of nourishment. The boy's metabolism had shut down and his body had started to take energy from the muscle mass in order to survive. So it indeed was as bad as he had feared.

"Those cramps are the result of lack of food." He softly said, running his thumb over the bony hand he still held in his own without even recognizing what he did. "I cannot do anything against that."

The boy had not bent the rules just to go and stroll through the castle as he so often had accused him of doing. He had done so to simply be of help, just as he now tried to simply be of help. He had left his dorm after curfew because he had tried to help Hagrid getting rid of a dragon. He had left his dorm after curfew because he had to try and safe the philosopher's stone, and he had left his dorm after curfew to get rid of the basilisk that had threatened the entire school, not to mention that the boy had left his dorm after curfew to find a person that had been a mass murderer, that had gotten away while hiding as a rat and blaming Black.

Sighing again he took the shirt that still lay over Potter's lap and placed it into the boy's hands.

"Get dressed, child." He gently said.

The brat had not tried to gain even more fame while acting like a hero. With the knowledge he now had, and he was sure that he right now judged the boy correctly, he guessed that Potter had even hated this fame. No, he only had tried to help.

The really sad part in this all was, that the boy always had tried to help others while he had not dared to address an adult with his own problems and ask for help for himself.

"You really do think that there is no one who cares, child. Am I right?"

The boy didn't answer and with another sigh and only a moment of hesitation he extended his hand and gently stroke the boy's hair away from his forehead, his dark eyes peering down at the child.

"You are wrong, if you really think so." He gently whispered.

This simple action made the boy actually hitch a breath and he had to struggle keeping his tears hidden from him. the words surely must have been balm on a wounded soul that was too deeply wounded to be healed.

"Feeling better a bit?" Snape asked and after seeing Potter's nod a slight smile graced the side of his mouth briefly as he simply nodded by himself. He knelt down again so he could look directly into those worried green eyes and lightly he placed his hands upon the much too thin shoulders.

"Listen, Mr. Potter, and listen close." He finally said, his voice serious. "I promise you, you will never go back to this household again, do you understand?"

Harry watched the Potions Master unsurely, fearfully, not ready to believe him yet. But there was no smirk on the harsh face of the older man and all that he could see in those dark eyes was seriousness, that his teacher spoke the truth.

"You cannot promise that." The boy finally whispered. "You won't be able to keep me out of there. The headmaster said I have to go back there each summer to strengthen the wards that keep my relatives and me safe."

Furrowing his brows in anger Snape had to keep himself from growling darkly. Albus had what? Albus actually had told Potter that those damn, bloody and blasted wards would keep his relatives safe? To get the boy on his damn need to help others? Even if those relatives he kept safe were beating, abusing, mistreating, neglecting and starving him in a way that now would cost the boy's life?

"Let me assure you, Mr. Potter." He said, leaning closer to the boy. "I can, and I will. You will not go back there, even if I have to take you in by myself! Is that understood, Mr. Potter?"

Startled, shocked, the boy nodded, the green eyes that watched him much too large and expressive and Snape nearly growled darkly.

"But … why …?" Potter finally managed to ask, his voice still a scared and rough whisper. The boy simply had been through too much since he had left Hogwarts over two month ago for his summer break.

"Because no child deserves to be in such pain, Mr. Potter." He answered. "And now go and try to sleep for at least a few hours as I am sure you will avoid sleep tonight. We will talk about this later, when you are not that damn weak and miserable." It was meant to sound harsh but even he could hear that he only sounded worried and he shook his head over his own display of emotions before he simply pulled the damn brat closer, knowing that that it was what the boy right now needed.

Potter stiffened when he pulled him close and ran his arm around the boy's shoulder, placed his other hand onto the back of the boy's head before he relaxed and he slightly shifted giving in to the comfort that was offered to him and leaning his head onto his shoulder.

It had felt easy, pulling Potter against him, easier than it shouldhave felt , and feeling the damn brat relaxing against him didn't make it any better, the thin and smaller body of the wizarding child easily fitting in between his longer limbs as one arm came around the boy's shoulders and the other hand rested on the back of the child's head until Potter rested his forehead against his chest. It didn't make it any better at all.

The boy again kept murmuring annoyingly afraid and fearful words in a terrifyingly young voice that sounded strangely like apologies again and Snape sighed once more. This indeed had not been what he had been asking for just a few days earlier. Not even a few hours earlier.

Yawning and closing his eyes, Harry wondered how this came about, Snape being so nice all of a sudden, but then – well, he had known that there was more to Snape than met the eye and while a part of him was filled with dread at really trusting the older wizard, the other part was strangely at ease while he could feel the rough but comfortingly cool fabric of the man's shirt. Snape had been friendly this morning too. And yesterday. So, he already had learned that the man had another side beside of the dark and cold one he always had shown them during the past three years.

He allowed himself to fall asleep within the professor's arms with a small sigh of ease, knowing that tomorrow Snape might be nasty towards him again, that tomorrow he might ridicule him for the weakness he right now displayed, but for the moment there only was peace, Snape had taken care of him. For the first time there had been someone that had taken care of him. And for the moment, as he had healed his body, it was all that mattered. Even if it was Snape.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Potter seemed to shiver when he placed the small body onto the sofa in the small rest room that was attached to the laboratory and a small whimper escaped the boy's lips while lines of worry and fear appeared on the pale face that was too young for such lines. The boy was no adult. The boy was a child. A fourteen year old child and he should feel free of such worries and fears, of such pain and terrors.

"Hush, Potter." He sighed, trying to sound harsh while at the same time he knew he wouldn't manage. If he wouldn't know that none of them were able to use magic down here and right now since they were imprisoned, then he would say that this damn brat was waving a strange spell over him.

He was Severus Snape, for Merlin's sake.

Shivering again the boy flinched away from him, feeling his anger as it seemed and reaching out he placed his hand onto the boy's shoulder, again murmuring words of comfort to the child.

"No don't!" The boy pitifully whispered while he tried to struggle against his hand and the only thing Snape could think of right now was to sit there and to simply card his hand through the mop of black hair, placing a cool hand to the child's cheek and forehead to stop whatever nightmare may have been trying to raise itself in the child's mind, to settle him back down until the boy was back to sleep.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Knowing that right now Potter would sleep for hopefully at least an hour Snape went back to his classroom. He was angry. Angry at himself. Angry at Dumbledore. Angry at Minerva, who always seemed to have known something, but never had done anything. And he was angry with Petunia Dursley he knew as Petunia Evans, Lily's sister.

Entering the classroom he cast a quick and severe glance over the students, noticing that everything was fine. Weasley silently was sitting at one of the desks, writing, just as he had been ordered to. Granger and … closing his eyes and gritting his teeth he shook his head. He really should start to think of them differently. So – Miss Granger and Draco were sitting together with the other Slytherins and Gryffindors near the fire, casting nearly shocked gazes at Weasley from time to time.

"Miss Granger, Draco, you gained yourself two points each for having an eye on the situation." Snape finally said, taking the chalk and adding two points to Draco's name and writing Miss Granger's name underneath Potter's and adding two points as well. "Mr. Weasley. Get one of the desks over here to the fireplace. There is no need to be colder than necessary during your detention."

Gazing over the students once again he took in pale faces that showed the first signs of hunger, of tiredness, of fear and of panic, and he knew that it only would get worse. And soon. And Potter was the one who already was worse.

"Theodore." He addressed his Slytherin.

His Slytherin!

He huffed.

Right now Potter was as much his student as was Theodore. Theodore might be his Slytherin, yes, but if that was so, then Potter simply was his Gryffindor. They all were the same right now.

"Yes, sir?" Theodore asked, looking at him curiously.

Potter!

He huffed once more.

Mr. Potter!

The boy had earned himself the respect to be called Mr. Potter instead of Potter. And to be honest, then he had to admit that Mr. Potter had even earned himself the respect to be called Harry by him just as he called his Slytherins by their given names. If the Gryffindors were as much his Gryffindors as the Slytherins were his Slytherins, then he should think a few things over.

"Mr. Potter - Harry, is sleeping in the rest room behind my office right now, Theodore." He said. "Would you please be so kind and sit with him? And to inform me as soon as he wakes?"

"Of course, sir." Theodore said, getting to his feet.

"Take your blanket with you, Theodore." He said. "There is no fire burning in the rest room."

Blushing for a moment over the fact that he had not thought of this by himself he nodded and took the blanket before he left the classroom to watch over Potter. Over Mr. Potter, damn!

Over Harry. Harry was Potter's son, yes, but Harry was Lily's child too. Harry was the child of his best friend, for Merlin's sake! And he had mistaken the boy deeply, by the way. How could he have not once wondered what had become of Lily's child throughout all those years? Had Lupin or Minerva or Albus – or any other one of those who once had counted Lily and James Potter as their friends ever checked up on their son?

Apparently no one had. Or if someone had, then this one had ignored the boy's abuse and neglect.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Draco watched his godfather closely the moment he came back and he lifted his eyebrow before he cast a quick glance towards Granger and then Weasley, trying to judge their thoughts. Weasley still seemed to be angry while Granger seemed to be ashamed of Weasley's behavior earlier.

Uncle Severus himself looked more tired than when he had left with Potter. And Potter was nowhere to be seen. Narrowing his eyes at his godfather he took a second glance and recognized that he not only looked tired, but that he looked frustrated, defeated somehow, and worried. Really worried.

So, Potter's injuries had been rather severe, he thought. He knew his godfather, and he knew that the man always felt worried about his Slytherins being injured, coming back to school from their summer holidays injured. But Potter was a Gryffindor and Potter was none of the abused children in the Slytherin house.

And nevertheless uncle Severus seemed to be worried deeply. And uncle Severus had used Potter's given name, Harry.

Well, he had to admit the situation was not the most ideal.

Potter had been attacked by his own friend, by Weasley. They were down here in the dungeons, locked in the potions classroom since three days now with barely anything to eat. No one knew when they would be freed nor how long they would have something to eat. At least they would have another night they had to spend down here as it seemed.

He had brought Theodore's mattress into the rest room, not wanting to have Potter being alone right now and he had told Theodore at the same time that he would be able to sleep there this night without fearing that the Gryffindor's found out about the boy's nightmares as he would not be able to take the dreamless sleep potion tonight, having had it the night before.

Nevertheless he had seen the reluctance in Theodore's face at first at the prospect of sleeping in the same room as Potter, having Potter knowing about his nightmares and he actually had considered telling his snake that no worry would be needed as the lion had the same nightmares he had. But Theodore had beaten him to this.

He had gazed at him seriously, not even asking but nearly stating that Potter too had been abused and that Potter too had nightmares, probably remembering the first night they'd had been down here, both of them avoiding sleep, and his unsureness only had been showed by the small "hasn't he?" at the end of his statement. Snape simply had nodded and told him to go to sleep and it had been a remarkably peaceful night. He had woken Theodore once, and he only had had to look after Potter two times.

And right now he was sitting in the classroom at his desk, watching the students thoughtfully from time to time, knowing that he would have to address them, that he would have to set up some rules for them and that he would have to talk to them about a few things. The events that had gone out of his hands yesterday had been proof enough that in this situation he was needed to be more than just their teacher and he could not allow such to repeat itself.

'You would not have learned about Potter being abused so brutally if things would not have gone out of hands.' The small voice in the back of his mind whispered and even if he didn't like it, he had to agree. Well, he would talk to them nevertheless about a few things, but he would wait until Potter and Theodore were both awake and present too.

Well, speaking of the devil, Theodore was entering the classroom silently, leaving the door ajar and coming over to him to stand in front of his desk. He looked up from the notes he was taking of what had been happening during the night and he placed the quill beside the parchment. He simply wanted to have written down the events that were happening during their stay here while being locked, the decisions they made, their thoughts, which potions he used and the current state the students were in. Well, he simply wanted to write down whatever he thought would be important for Albus to know, should they die before they were freed.

"Yes, Theodore?" He asked, locking his dark eyes with the boy's blue ones.

"Good morning, sir." The boy answered. "Potter is about to wake up, I guess."

"Good." Snape nodded his head. "I will have a look in a moment. Did you sleep well?"

"Actually … yes, sir." The boy answered, blushing and averting his eyes for a moment before looking back at him. "It took me a while to fall asleep, but then I guess I have been sleeping well. I just woke you once."

"That is not correct, Theodore." Snape said, not wanting the boy's thoughts going into this direction. "It rather is the other way round and I have been waking you."

Knowing what the Potions Master meant, namely to get the blame off him, Theodore, the boy nodded and actually smiled. It wasn't the first time after all that they had this particular conversation.

"Go over to the rest of you insufferable brats and wait there for me." Snape shook his head. "I will have a look at Mr. Potter and be back with him soon to have a few words with all of you."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry woke slowly, immediately knowing that something wasn't as it had been yesterday. He still was tired, but he felt more rested than he had been in weeks. And he still was in some sort of pain, but it wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. And he still was hungry, but he also knew that that was something that couldn't be helped and he ignored this particular feeling. He was used to ignore his hunger and the pain it caused.

But his back didn't hurt so much anymore. And neither did his chest and his ribs. He actually was able to breath without pain. Well, that at least was an improvement and he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling for a moment.

But then the memories came back. Memories about his conversation with Snape and the man healing his injuries and he softly groaned in frustration.

Snape knew.

Snape knew about the Dursleys not giving him food, knew about the Dursleys not caring about him, about the Dursleys beating him, hating him. Snape knew, Snape knew everything! How weak he was, what a freak he was, how worthless he was.

Snape had told him that he had been proud at him. Sort of. Had given him points and had been friendly with him, had even held him. But now … Snape surely wouldn't be proud of him any longer and Snape surely would not … he surely wouldn't give him any more points and he maybe even would take away those he had given him.

He should be used to losing points, it was what Snape always did after all, but somehow the thought that Snape had given him points had made him feel good. More good than he had been ready to admit. It had been as if Snape actually had been over his hate towards him, as if Snape actually would have cared. But that would be over now, now that Snape knew.

On the other hand – yes, he of course wished that no one knew about his uncle and about the beatings and that he hadn't gotten something to eat there, and surely he didn't want Snape and the Slytherins to know. But at the same time the thought that Snape knew brought out some strange sense of comfort, just as if he didn't have to try so hard to hide it in front if the man anymore, just as if he could be more himself around the man, as if he wouldn't have to play an act of strength in front of the man anymore.

But at the same time – the thought scared him. Snape now knew what a weak and disobedient freak he was, being punished by his uncle for his incompetence and his freakishness.

Well, yes – somewhere buried deep down in his head he knew that the treatment he received by his aunt and uncle was not what should be, was not what was right, but he was not able to really understand why no one ever had stopped it if it was not right of them to starve him and to beat him. It simply was ingrained in his head so deeply that it was a punishment, meaning that he deserved it, that he wasn't able to really believe otherwise.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape entered the rest room with his usual silent steps after shoving the ajar door open and he had the opportunity to watch Potter for a moment as the boy had not noticed his presence yet.

Potter was sitting on the couch he had laid him at yesterday, cross-legged as it seemed, the blanked around his lower body and his hands playing with the hem of the comforter, deep in thoughts and he looked as if blaming himself with the worst thoughts possible for what had been displayed yesterday and during last night and he sighed. Well, it had to be expected. They all did blame themselves after all. But he would put a stop to this right here and now.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter." He said after a moment, crossing the room and sitting into an armchair opposite the sofa the teen was sitting on, looking up at him with unsure and startled, fearful eyes.

"Good morning, sir." Potter said, more a murmur than anything else and he averted his eyes.

"Do me the favor and look at me, Mr. Potter." Snape said, his voice serious and low. "What has been done to you is not your fault and you never should blame yourself for it. I want you to never avoid my eyes again, Mr. Potter. You have survived years of violent beatings and starving at the hands of your relatives and you should be proud of this little fact – that they never managed to simply kill you. You – are not – weak! Did I make myself clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir." The teenager quietly said. "I'm sorry, sir."

"You will never ever again, I repeat, absolutely never – ever – again, apologize for things that are not your fault, Mr. Potter, and surely you will never ever again apologize for being mistreated by your relatives. Is that too understood, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir." The boy answered in a whisper, nearly shrinking into the backrest of the sofa. "I'm …"

"Good." Snape nodded his head, ignoring the fact that the boy had barely been able to catch himself just in the last moment before apologizing once more. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, sir." Potter answered, looking aside again.

"Eyes up, Potter!" Snape commanded sharply, not caring about the fact that he was startling the boy who looked at him with large eyes for a moment before he got back control over himself. Good, if the boy was startled, then he would think about all that what had been done to him instead of hiding it underneath all the layers within his mind. He just needed to find the limits, past which he never should push the child.

"Good, that's better, Mr. Potter." Snape said. "What is your chest doing? Are you able to breathe more easily now?"

"Yes, sir." Potter answered, his voice still low, hesitant and subdued. Well, Potter was not used to those kind of conversations like his Slytherins were. Theodore had answered his questions with less trouble, but Theodore had been in this particular situation with him since three years now. He was used to those questions and he was used to answer them. He was used to him, Snape, his head of house. Not so Potter.

"Good." Snape said seriously. "See that you tell me if it changes, Mr. Potter, and no games of hide and seek, this is far too serious. You will tell me if you get worse again or you will find yourself in quite some trouble. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. And what is your back doing?"

"It's ok, sir."

"What, Mr. Potter, is your definition of – ok?" Snape asked, not because he didn't know what Potter meant, but because he wanted to know if the teen would be able to say more than – 'yes, sir' and 'ok, sir' or … 'sorry, sir'.

"Uhm … well …" Potter made and for a moment Snape wanted to snap at the boy, but then he decided against it. It wouldn't do any good to either of them if he pushed the boy too far right now.

"I do know that you are not used to such conversations, Mr. Potter, what is the reason as to why I will not press the subject right now." He said. "But remember, that I not always will give in. You will have to learn speaking about what has been done to you and you will have to learn that it is not your fault either. I do know how difficult this is for you, but as I already told you yesterday and the day before, I am rather pleased with your way of handling this situation, more so as I now know how serious your particular situation is, and thus I am sure you will be able to manage what I demand of you. Namely your trust and your willingness to go on."

The teenager did not give him an answer, but neither had he expected one and he stood.

"If you are ready, Mr. Potter, then we will go back to the classroom as I have a few words that concerns each of you." He said, extending his hand towards the door to indicate that he expected Potter to go ahead of him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was standing in front of the students, in front of all of them, leaning against the desk behind him and his arms folded in front of his chest while his dark eyes watched each of those seventeen teenagers that were sitting on the mattresses in front of the fire.

Blankets and pillows were laying in untidy heaps on the mattresses, as were books, a book-bag here and a cloak there, as well as quills or parchments and this part of the classroom looked rather like a dormitory than like a classroom at all. The only thing still not out of place was the fact that, even if huddled together closer now, the Slytherins and the Gryffindors still were separated somehow.

"It is time, I believe, that we set a few ground rules." He began, ignoring the frustrated groans coming from the students, having known they would come. "The first one is, whatever food is handed out, it will be eaten by the person it is handed to and by no one else. We are here since four days and I suggest it is time that we face the fact that we do not know how much longer we will be in this situation. So it is important that everyone of you – and if I say everyone, then I do mean everyone – will be eating what is given. No one will ask for more as everyone will get all the same and it only would be unfair to ask others to share when every one of you is hungry. The demonstration that had been displayed yesterday will not be repeated and everyone who does not go by this rule will be writing a three foot long essay as to why I set this precise rule. Is that understood by everyone?"

Seventeen heads nodded at him and he heard a few murmured "yes, sir" while he watched them intently, ensuring that he had eye-contact with each and every student for at least a few seconds.

"Good." He then said. "Mr. Crabbe, write this rule down onto the blackboard, please."

He watched Vincent getting to his feet and walking over to the blackboard, taking the chalk and writing the first rule down.

"This here is no game anymore and neither is it a match or any harmless situation else." He continued then. "This here is day four in a situation that might end in death and all of you should begin to lay aside your prejudices, your pride and your rivalry and work together instead. Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy already have seen reason and have made a truce. So if they can do this, then all of you can do the same. I expect you to respect not only each other's strengths, but each other's weaknesses as well. The more you fight, the lesser will be your ability to save strength. This might sound harsh to you, but I fear we simply have to face the truth that maybe ... that maybe we will have to face death. I do not believe so, and neither do I want you believing that we might die, but we should nevertheless keep this little fact in our minds. So, rule number two is: there are no houses. Right here and now, we all are the same. Is that too understood by everyone?"

This time there was more reluctance, especially from Weasley, Thomas, Finnigan, Gregory and Vincent.

"Is – that – understood, I asked." He growled in a dangerously low voice and quickly all of them nodded.

"Good." Snape hissed, again locking his black eyes with the eyes of the children in front of him. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to frighten them like this, and never in all his years of teaching would he have thought to find himself in such a situation. But he had to be realistic and he needed his students to be realistic too. He would be able to comfort them later, but right now he needed them to see reason."See that you won't forget it! Mr. Weasley, go and write the rule down. There are no houses!" He waited a few moments, not only to give the teens in front of him the chance to get his words sunken in, but to calm himself too.

"Well, all of you soon will get weaker due to the lack of real food." He finally continued. "I will do what lies in my power to provide you with whatever edible things are found down here, but there is not way of telling if it will be enough. If I however catch any of you hiding his or her weakness, pain, fear, misery, dizziness, tiredness and exhaustion – or whatever it is that will make you feel ill, then you will find yourself in some trouble too. You are not to hide your misery, not from each other and surely not from me so I can help if possible. This situation has noting to do with heroism but only with survival and there is no shame in asking for help or comfort. I of course will accept you trying to be strong and brave, but you on the other hand will accept that you will get weaker and that you will have to accept help if it is offered. So, your third rule is: no hiding of your weakness, exhaustion and pain and no teasing others with their weakness, exhaustion and pain either. Did I make myself clear?"

Again there were seventeen heads nodding, even if only reluctantly, and a few "yes, sir" were heard. He again waited until he'd had eye contact with every one of them to ensure a positive answer.

"Good." He then said. "Mr. Potter, you are to write this particular rule onto the blackboard."

He watched Potter getting to his feet and walking over to the blackboard, taking the chalk from Weasley who threw a dark glance at his friend and then writing the rule down. He immediately knew that he still would have to keep an eye on Weasley.

"Every human body needs food and water. We do not have many things edible and the few we have will be used up eventually. I of course will provide you with nutrient potions as long as possible but neither will they be available forever, nor will they keep you alive forever. What we however have is water. And as I already have told you, it is important and I expect you to use this opportunity. So your fourth rule is: every one of you will drink as much as possible. Miss Davis, please go and write this rule down."

He paused and watched Tracy taking the chalk from Potter who went back to his mattress while the girl wrote down the rule on the blackboard. Tracy had not been drinking as much as he had told them to do two days ago and he hoped that, with writing down this rule, she would remember. In fact, he had chosen the students to write down those particular rules he thought they had problems following, hoping that thus they would keep them in mind.

"And last but not least, sleep, diversions and some kind of normality will help to keep all of you as calm as possible, as relaxed as possible and thus as strong as possible. I expect you to sleep as much as you can, to rest at least if you cannot sleep, to read, to write, to converse, to play games, or to do whatever you can think of as long as it is no strenuous activity and I expect all of you to find a routine you are comfortable with. Right now we have two students down here who suffer from serious nightmares." He did not look at Theodore and Potter, not ready yet to give them away, knowing that both of them right now felt betrayed by him, but he would give them the chance to understand before he would give their names away.

"I can understand that both students are not ready to give away this little information, but I will not allow them to give up their much needed sleep just because they fear their fellow students might judge them as sleep deprivation only will eat up their strengths. Both students would be in different houses if we still had them installed, one in Gryffindor and one in Slytherin, so it will be no unfair situation. Both students have their reasons for those nightmares and thus there is no reason for the rest of you to judge them or to make fun of them. I will provide both with dreamless sleep potion every second night, but this potion cannot be given each night. So both students will suffer from those nightmares every other day and I expect all of you to act mature enough to not only accept this little fact, but to be of help in form of waking them if necessary. Suffering from a nightmare is terrible enough in the first place and there always is a reason for a nightmare. Not to mention the fact that soon more of you will have such nightmares from time to time. So there is no need to be ashamed of those, nor to judge them. Is that absolutely understood?"

He watched the students giving their nods, some with curious faces looking around them, some with thoughtful gazes and some – two to be precise – with drawn and miserable faces, only nodding reluctantly.

"Good. See that you do remember that. Mr. Potter and Mr. Nott are the two students I mentioned and I now give both their names away not to mistreat their trust, but so both are in the same place and will be able to lay down for sleep without having to try and avoid sleep in order to hide their nightmares – and so neither of you have a reason to tease any of them. As Mr. Potter already had his rule to write down I chose Mr. Nott to write this particular rule onto the blackboard to be remembered. Rule number five is to sleep as much as possible, to divert each other and to set into a routine with as much normality and comfort as possible."

He watched Theodore reluctantly getting up and walking towards the blackboard, throwing a nearly angry gaze at him – while Potter looked quite miserable - and he could understand the two boys. Right now – even if they only might understand his reasons – they just felt betrayed. But they would understand with time. And he would ensure that everyone who judged them would be writing for the rest of his or her stay down here.

"Do you have any questions?" He then asked.

Of course it was Miss Granger whose hand shot up and he couldn't help lifting his eyebrow at her. He should have known. He normally would have ignored her, simply to teach her that not only she was to give answers but that he expected other students to use their brains and to think about his questions too, and to answer them, but he also knew that he should ignore no one in the situation they right now were in. So he gazed at her.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"You said that we might die down here. Do you really believe that? Or do we have a chance? Will we really die?" The girl asked and he had to pinch the bridge of his nose. Well, it had been clear that this questions might come up and the fearful faces of the other students that were looking at him expectantly were proof enough to him that every one of them had the same questions on their minds. They were no children after all, they were young witches and wizards, teenagers, and intelligent enough to think about this possibility and to understand what it meant. But they were no adults either. In some ways they still were children, with fears and with insecurities.

"I cannot promise you what will be happening as the future is unwritten yet and no one can know what will be." He answered after a moment of considering his next words. "But I can promise you that I will do everything that lies in my power that all of you will survive this and I can assure you that I do believe that this will not end in the death of either of you. I do believe it, and I want you to believe in this either. None of you will die down here and all of you will leave this place on your own feet! It is important that you believe in this. None of us can know it, but it is important that we do believe in it. Is that understood?"

The faces of the seventeen teenagers that nodded at him again were drawn, tired, full of doubt and afraid, but he could see hope in their eyes as well and that was enough for him right now.

"Good." He said. "Then you might write this down on the board, Miss Granger. We will survive this."

Draco was the next one who lifted his hand and he nodded at the boy.

"Those points …" Draco said. "What will happen with them the moment we get out? Will they – I mean …"

"All of you might collect points and the moment this all will be over you will be able to change those points into whatever it is you wish." He said. "I will give out those points to you if you deserve them, but I won't take any points away. Those you have will be yours until the end. Whatever end it is we might face. Added to this, I name Mr. Potter and Mr. Nott as - let me call it - group prefects. Both of them too will be able to give out points. You will listen to their advises and you will listen to their orders, but they won't be able to punish you for anything. Your responsibility, Mr. Potter and Mr. Nott, will be to listen to your classmates, to come to me with problems and to find ideas, solutions and ways to keep your minds busy and from worrying too much. On the other hand, Mr. Potter and Mr. Nott are not to be bothered with trivialities. Please, Mr. Malfoy, write down what I just announced."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape had thought about those rules during the past few hours, during yesterday and during last night, knowing that it was important that he gave them something, that he gave them more than just some edible things that might keep their bodies alive for some time, knowing that it was important that he gave them a reason to fight. And not to fight each other, but to fight together and for themselves, and for each other.

He looked over to Theodore who had been standing near the office door, who had been leaning against the wall and who – right now – was sliding down the wall and landing on his bottom, his knees pulled up while he hugged them at the same time as he placed his head on top of them and started to cry, most probably too upset to keep himself together any longer. There was not only the stress the past three and a half days had been pressing them. But there were the abuse Theodore had been through at the hands of his father, the nightmares, the fear and the pain, the distrust and the lack of understanding as to why he had made him as a prefect too. And all in all together, it simply was too much for the child to handle.

As it was for Potter who was in the same position as was Theodore, he thought, looking around in search for the smaller boy, not finding him.

He watched the scene unfold in front of him for a moment and then he did the only thing he knew was necessary right now. He went over to where Theodore was sitting, sat next to the boy and placed his arm around his shoulders. He could feel Theodore flinch for a moment and he could feel his muscles tightening, but he soon relaxed and before he knew what was happening, the boy buried his face into his robes, his arms wrapped around his stomach, and continued crying.

"Hush, Theodore." He whispered, tightening the grip he had around the boy's shoulders. "What got you so upset?"

He nearly laughed at his own stupid question, having answered it by himself a moment ago. But he also knew that Theodore had to accept it by himself too. They all had to accept. All of them had to accept different things, but they all had to accept in the first place.

"Why did you tell them?" The boy finally asked. "That wasn't fair! I trusted you!"

"I do know this, Theodore." He seriously said. "I do know that it wasn't fair and I do know that you did trust me. And you will trust me again the moment you understand. I however do know that right now you only feel hurt and I will accept this. But I did this for a reason, Theodore. The moment they know, you do not have to hide your nightmares any longer by avoiding sleep, what only would be fatal in the long run. This way, you can go to sleep because they already do know. They won't however judge you, I am sure. And you are not the only one either, but you have known this already. Do you see my point?"

"Yes, sir." Theodore answered, still sobbing. "But it wasn't fair nevertheless."

"I know." Snape said, running his hand through the boy's hair. "But it was necessary. There is no hiding such things, Theodore. We all should know how each of us is doing, were our strengths lay and where our weaknesses lay so we can consider the situation we are in correctly and so we can depend on each other. Do you understand how important that is?"

There was a nod, a reluctant one, and there was no verbal answer, but it was enough for Snape at the moment. He knew that Theodore would understand and that he would accept it within the next day or two, and he knew that Theodore still trusted him, even if he now felt betrayed, he still trusted him, even if he felt he didn't. He only was hurt right now.

Potter was another thing. The boy had disappeared during the past few minutes, probably into the office, and he was sure that Harry right now was feeling the same way as Theodore felt. With the difference that Theodore knew him since three years now, that Theodore knew that he always had a reason for his actions and that Theodore knew that in the end it would work out, that in the end, he was right. Potter too knew him since three years, yes, but not this way. Potter only knew the sarcastic bastard that had made his life at Hogwarts a living hell and that never had given him a reason to trust him in the first place. Potter's trust in him was only a few days old now, fragile and easily broken. He would have a much harder time to convince Potter that he'd had his reasons to tell them, he knew.

Sighing he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned his head against the wall behind him, his fingers playing with Theodore's hair and he could feel the boy relaxing against him further.

"Well, Mr. Nott, as much as it pleases me to simply sit here and do nothing, there is another student that right now feels betrayed by me and needs to be comforted." He said after a few more minutes. "Are you amenable with me leaving in search for Mr. Potter?"

Upon the sleepily nod from Theodore he got up. "Try to sleep for an hour or two, Theodore, it will make you feel better afterwards." He said, leaving after watching his student laying down on his mattress.

He went into his office, and – just as he had thought – found Potter there, sitting in a corner on the floor. He was however not crying as he had thought he would and slowly he walked over and turned the chair behind his desk so he would face the boy and sat down. Potter didn't look up at him, just had his knees drawn to his chest, as had Theodore done earlier, and stared ahead of him, his face pale and thin, drawn and tired. So Snape didn't say anything either, just sat there, watching the teen. He knew that Potter had noticed his presence, knew he was there. And he knew that Potter – sooner or later – would address him, would blame him.

Well, he only had to wait a few minutes.

"I hate you!" Potter finally said, his voice low, barely above a whisper, but his words stinging nevertheless. A few days ago he would not have cared, but now? Now he had seen a different side of Potter, one he actually could understand. And now Potter had proven to be a teenager he could depend on, that acted reasonably in a dire situation, a teenager that actually had become to be – some kind of … important to him, whatever reason for this had happened.

So yes – right now Potter's words stung, if he liked it to admit or not.

"I know." He simply answered.

"I trusted you!" Potter said, the same words Theodore had used earlier, still not looking at him, but staring angrily ahead of him, his words an accusation in themselves.

"I know." Snape again simply answered.

"You … you … you have … you have hurt me …" Potter continued to blame him, his voice however not that angry anymore but rather helpless, afraid, lost and unsure. Hurt. Not yet really ready to admit that he, Snape, had been able to actually hurt him, to hurt his feelings, maybe because he then would have had to admit towards himself that the Potions Master had become – some kind of – important to him, too.

"I know." Snape again said, with a sad sigh this time, but there was nothing else he could say, because the boy simply was right.

"You betrayed me!"

"Yes, I have." He answered, not denying the teenager's accusation.

"Why?" The boy finally asked, finally gave him the chance to explain and he got up and approached the fourteen year old, knelt down in front of him and extended his hand, placed his fingers underneath Potter's chin and gently lifted his head so the boy had to look at him. He gazed into those green eyes that showed the hurt the boy felt.

"Because they have to know so you can go to sleep without fear, so you do not have to avoid sleep in order to hide your nightmares and because it will help them to understand." He said. "I do know that you feel betrayed by me. And I do know that you feel hurt by me and I will accept this. But believe me, I did not do this however to hurt you, I did not do this without a reason, because only if they do understand we all can work together. And I am sure if you think about it with a clear mind, then you too will understand. You are far too intelligent to not understand it with some time given."

Potter's eyes shot up to gaze at Snape's own dark orbs and he could see that the child was, without a doubt, more than shocked by the praise. The pure bliss that flashed through those emerald orbs nearly made him hitch a breath, nearly made his chest clench painfully for a moment, but he kept his gaze at the boy's steadily.

This joy in the teen's eyes however lasted for only a second or two before the usual misery took over again and surprisingly, Snape wished it had stayed there longer. He actually noticed that he gained more pleasure from this look of happiness than from the hurt looks one of his cutting remarks would cause and he sighed.

"Come here, you foolish child!" He growled, sitting beside the boy and simply pulling the smaller body into his arms, ignoring the startled flinch the teenager gave away and keeping a strong grip at the thin shoulders until the tense body relaxed slightly when he ran his hand up and down the boy's back.

"I am sure you will understand, Harry." He said. "I promised you to take care of you and I will do so. But I need your trust for this, child."

A small sob finally escaped the teen's throat and he could feel the boy's fingers gripping the hem of his shirt in a desperate manner to grip anything to keep himself from drowning.

"But I don't understand." Potter finally sobbed. "You hate me. I just don't understand."

"I do not hate you, Harry." Snape sighed, leaning his head against the wall behind him. "I never really hated you. I disliked the fact that you were the golden boy that got away with everything, a spoilt brat that had wrapped everyone around his fingers and I only wanted to show you that it wouldn't work with me. But I never actually hated you. And now knowing that …" He trailed of, sighing.

"But I still don't understand." Potter allowed himself to hide his face into the fabric of his shirt and Snape allowed Potter doing so, for now at least. "You are supposed to hate me! You are supposed to hurt me! And you are supposed to not care!"

"That might have been the picture I have displayed towards you in the past, towards everyone in the past." He said, knowing how right the boy was. Potter really had no reason to actually trust him the way he already did, as tentative and as fragile this trust might be. "And aside from you and your fellow students out there in this classroom – and my snakes in general – no one will ever know that I indeed care about my students. But I do care. I ever have and I ever will. You on the other hand too have shown me a complete different side of yourself, Harry, what gave me reason to show this care a bit more than I did up to now."

"But you're not supposed to." The boy sobbed and Snape knew that the teenager simply wasn't able to adjust to the sudden change in the situation. Potter would need time to get used to this sudden trust he felt and the care he suddenly received. "I don't understand. You're not supposed to care. So why?"

"Maybe because I do not care what I am supposed to do or not to do, Harry." Snape finally said, running one hand throught the unruly mop of black hair. "I know that you don't understand yet, that you will need time. But I promised you that I would take care of you, that you won't go back to your relatives, and I never broke a promise. You simply will have to accept that little fact. And now try to sleep a bit, you insufferable brat. You will feel better afterwards."

He got to his feet and pulled the teenager with him before he led him back towards the classroom, towards the mattress that was the boy's, and where he pushed him down until the teenager lay flat. He threw the blanket over the small form, casting a quick glance towards Theodore, Draco, and then over the other students that watched him, again wondering how long the boy would make it. He watched him for a few minutes more until sleep had claimed the teen and then he left the mattress and went back to his desk. Theodore and Harry both were sleeping, resting from their emotional stress. They would be fine in the end, he promised.

Previously in twenty-one days

He got to his feet and pulled the teenager with him before he led him back towards the classroom, towards the mattress that was the boy's, and where he pushed him down until the teenager lay flat. He threw the blanket over the small form, casting a quick glance towards Theodore, Draco, and then over the other students that watched him, again wondering how long the boy would make it. He watched him for a few minutes more until sleep had claimed the teen and then he left the mattress and went back to his desk. Theodore and Harry both were sleeping, resting from their emotional stress. They would be fine in the end, he promised.

Chapter eight

Day four

Thursday, fifth of September

Well, the moment had come and there was no cataneo root left. So he had – well, in lack of a better word – brewed a kind of – again in lack of a better word – soup with some other plants and roots he held down here and he would be able to do so for at least tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. Maybe even until Sunday. After that – it would get downhill and he would have to use more dangerous ingredients.

But well, he was a Potions Master, wasn't he? He would manage. Somehow.

He had fixed a few parchments to the blackboard earlier, plans for some duties, one list for kitchen duties, one for classroom duties, and one for bathroom duties. There wasn't much to do, really. It only was to wash up the bowls they used for their – soup. Again he snorted at the term, to keep the classroom tidy, what wasn't much of a task as there wasn't much they had brought down here anyway and to keep the bathroom clean. And he did not intend to force them to overtake a task. They could enlist themselves into the plans to earn points if they so wished, but he would not force them.

It was rather something he gave them to keep themselves occupied, nothing more. But he already noticed that the list for tidying up the classroom was more interesting for them than kitchen or bathroom duties. Well, it had to be expected and he simply would do it himself later while the brats were sleeping.

What had been a surprise had been Potter – Harry, he corrected himself mentally – enlisting his name into the plan for kitchen duties. He guessed that the boy would be used to such tasks after living with the Dursleys and he growled darkly at the reminder of what those monsters had done to the boy.

Honestly, he himself knew best how much he had loathed that boy. But not even he would have mistreated a child, any child, in such a way. And honestly, recent events simply made it impossible to do so anymore, to loath that boy anymore.

Not only had that boy acted more reasonable than even some of his Slytherins, considering Crabbe's actions yesterday, asking a fellow student for food they all needed right now, but the boy actually had tried to be of real help. And considering the fact of how unwell he was, it was just the more a reason for him to let lose of his loathing and seeing reason for himself. The boy had done his best in a worst situation and under worst conditions - just as he maybe always had. If the boy had come back to Hogwarts in such a condition this year, then he surely had come back in such a condition last year too, and probably each year before. So, the boy had been unwell and nevertheless he had done his best - successfully.

And that the boy had been unwell, still was unwell, that much was sure.

Again he snorted while he cast a gaze into the direction of the kitchen Harry and Theodore right now were in.

Harry might have been used to pain, hunger, tiredness and exhaustion, to fear and feeling out of control due to his life with the Dursleys, but that didn't mean that he did not feel the effects nevertheless. He felt the effects as much as every one of the other children. And he himself, he had to admit. But Harry did feel them even more as he was already afflicted by earlier beatings and starvations he had suffered from during the holidays.

Running his hand over his face Snape sighed. No, there really was no reason for him to still loath that boy. He was not that spoiled prince that he always had accused him of being. He was not more selfish than any of his Slytherins.

Again he snorted. That was an understatement.

The boy wasn't selfish at all and right now in this very situation they were in, he was about to learn that Potter would give the shirt of his back if necessary – or the very last cataneo root for that matter. The boy rather tried to please than to annoy and he just never had seen it this way, had been annoyed by the boy's antics.

Well, he would allow the boy to brew the first batch of nutrient potion.

The Gryffindor was right after all in what he had said to Weasley yesterday morning – learning would help to distract them. So he simply would allow them to brew potions.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

'… istry of magic has decided that this special department will be established until October the first. Many witches and wizards already have expressed their anger at the minister's decision but Cornelius Fudge refused to retreat from his choice of the head of this new department. According to the minister, Clark Henson will be the best man for this job, never mind what the rest of the wizarding world thinks.'

"What did he decide now?" Harry asked with a shaking of his head.

"Dunno." Theodore answered, shaking his head too and gazing at the wireless wizarding radio that stood on the sideboard, the drying cloth held loosely in his hands. "But I'm sure it is as spectacular as everything else he came up with."

"And as dangerous." Harry huffed. "Really, and people say that Hagrid is dangerous."

"You have a point, Potter." Theodore too huffed, but then he grew serious. "Harry, I meant. If you don't mind."

"I don't." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "As long as you don't mind me using Theodore instead of Nott."

"Say Theo." The other boy shrugged too. "That's what Draco and Blaze call me."

"'k …" Harry agreed, turning his face back towards the source of the news.

'Hogsmead, England.

Five days after the tragic incidents at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, which had led to the castle's shutdown of some parts of the dungeons, the seventeen students and one teacher, Severus Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house of Hogwarts, are still missed. The fourth years Gryffindors and Slytherins had been in the potions classroom the moment the attack had happened and since then headmaster Albus Dumbledore has been unable to find a way to undo the castle's wards.'

Theodore and Harry exchanged a quick glance and both stopped in their work again, giving their attentions entirely to the news that rung out from the magical device on the counter.

'We have no information as to how those seventeen children and one adult are doing or if they are still alive, as every way of communication is cut off of the wizarding world. The rumours that had swept throughout the wizarding world that they already might have died during the attack on September the second, due to a potions accident during class never have been proven correctly. In fact, Albus Dumbledore has informed us that Professor Snape has been talking to the picture of Marlow Venenatus only hours after the incident.

Since then however Venenatus has not been able to settle back into his own frame that is guarding the Professor's quarters and has found refuge in a picture in the hospital wing instead, so we have no further word of what happened in the dungeon classroom since September the second.

The castle had been attacked by Death Eaters in the morning hours of the first day of classes and one of the stray spells had – so the headmaster – intermixed with an exploding cauldron in the potions classroom, what had caused the castle to shut down this area in the first place.

Each attempt to get the students out or food down into the dungeons has failed and already the rumours are spread throughout the wizarding world that they might be already starved to death. We hear Professor Doctor Zaid Arcata who is our guest today. Good morning, Professor Arcata.'

'Good morning, Mr. Allison.'

'What would you say, Professor, do those students have a chance of being still alive? After four days of imprisonment in the dungeons without food?'

'If they have survived the accident in the first place, what is proven correctly as Professor Snape has been conversing with the picture of Venenatus, then they still will be alive. A human being can go without food for at least two weeks if water is available what – if I take Professor Dumbledore's words correctly – is the fact. And as they are locked in the potions classroom, their chances to survive even longer than those two weeks are even higher than if they were locked in any other classroom. Professor Snape will be able to brew at least nutrient potions. I however believe that there might be a few more edible things in a potions laboratory and thus the Professor might be able to keep them alive for longer than that.'

'So they won't die at all due to those nutrient potions?'

'Nutrient potions need a basis they can work with and even then they will keep a human being alive only that long. In other words, they of course will die eventually, but their chances to survive much longer are much higher than if they were imprisoned in – let me say in the transfiguration classroom for example. But nevertheless those potions will not keep them alive forever.'

'How will the imprisonment affect those students? And how will it affect Professor Snape?'

'Well, concerning Professor Snape, he will have to deal with seventeen students who are hungry, frightened and soon bodily and mentally exhausted. He however is not only an adult and a Potions Master, but he is a teacher and a head of a house no less. He is a professional and he will be able to deal with the panic attacks the students already might have fallen into. The students themselves, as I said, they will be hungry, frightened and exhausted. How frightened and exhausted, that surely will differ from student to student, depending on the level of their individual strength. Some might be more frightened than others and some might be more weak than others by now. It really is not possible to say. What I however can say is, that they all surely have had a really hard time up to now and it will get harder with each day they are locked down there.'

'What would you say will happen if they are not freed anytime soon?'

'Well, as I said, they will be able to survive for maybe two weeks more. But they of course will get weaker and weaker with each day. If Professor Snape is able to get them sleeping as much as possible, then he might be able to keep them relatively calm for some time more. But that too will change eventually and before they will be too weak to do much, there surely will be a lot of panic attacks to be dealt with. Not to mention the fact that some of the children might try to find something that would seem edible to them what – in a potions laboratory – might be however dangerous, poisonous and deadly. Otherwise, some of them surely will begin to fight each other and there is no way to say how far those fights will go. On the other hand it even might be possible that they come closer and form friendships where before had been the distance between the two houses. It really is not possible to say what will happen in such a situation.'

'You mentioned the potions laboratory, Professor, but they are locked in the potions classroom. Is it the same then?'

'No, it is not the same. As I am informed however, the potions laboratory is attached to the potions classroom as Hogwarts is a practical wizarding school and not only a theoretical. The students actually are brewing potions and thus they need a separate laboratory. What actually is fortunate in this case as safety regulations say that each potions laboratory need at least a bathroom, a kitchen and a rest room attached to the laboratory in case of an emergency. And as it is a school laboratory, I guess there will be the Professor's office too, so they actually have a small – let us call it 'flat' down there.'

'So those missing children will be able to at least take a shower and have a relatively normal way of living, am I right?'

'Relatively spoken, yes. But we have to remember that those children are just that – children. And children need not only food and a shower or a bathroom where they can care for their needs. They need fresh air and sun. And being locked in a dungeon will only get them depressed and miserable. Not to mention the pain hunger will cause and the tiredness, the exhaustion and the fear they might feel. So no, I would not say that they have a relatively normal way of living right now.'

'I might have chosen my words wrongly a bit. Of course we all know how hard this might be for them, but I just wanted to know if they are able to use at least a bathroom to care for their needs.'

'That they are.'

'We have been informed by headmaster Dumbledore that right now they are not able to use magic down in the dungeons. So how do you think they will manage sleeping on the floor without beds? And staying warm without warming charms?'

'Well, magic that is drained does not stop at once. It stops slowly and we only can hope that they had been able to transform the desks or chairs from the classroom into beds before that had happened so they at least are able to sleep rather comfortably, even if it surely will be far away from being comfortable actually. Sleeping in such a situation might be very important to give not only the body but the mind as well some much needed rest, but at the same time it will be rather difficult. The children's minds will be occupied with worry and with thoughts about the situation, about their future. And of course there is the fact that they are old enough to know that maybe they actually might die. Then there will be the question as to who will be the first one to die and how they will react to it. They are young teenagers and they will think about such things.'

'Not a comforting thought, I guess.'

'No, surely not. Concerning the lack of warmth, well, this will be an added problem to them. Even if it is not winter yet, the dungeons will be rather cold, especially during the nights. But if they are freezing, then their bodies will work. Their muscles will tremble in order to get them warm. But that on the other hand will take energy away, energy their bodies would need to survive. So yes, they actually do have a problem with not being able to cast spells.'

'You mentioned that they might think of dying, Professor, and who of them might die at first. With the list of the students we have, which of them would you say have the best chances to survive and who might be the first to die?'

'I really cannot and surely do not want to give such a predicament away. Not only because it is nearly impossible to say so, but because I do not want to crash any hopes some parents, siblings, friends or the students themselves might have.'

'The students themselves? Do you actually think of those seventeen students who are locked in the dungeon?'

'Yes, it actually might be possible that they have a way to hear this news and to predict anything would only crush their hopes and destroy their spirits.'

'That might be true and I apologize for my thoughtless words. We say thank you for your informations Professor Arcata and go back to our regular program. We will however hear more of those tragic happenings at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, that have the entire wizarding world in a breathless grip and we say hold on to those seventeen students and Professor Snape. You are not forgotten and each academic institution is searching for a solution to safe you. This was Dung Allison with the newest reports of the tragedy of Hogwarts.'

Again Harry and Theodore shared a surprised look, just as they had done a few times during the news report, but then they went back to their work. It wasn't much, really, eighteen bowls, a few glasses, spoons and the pot Snape had used, and the cooking utensils, but Snape had ordered them to work slowly and to take a rest whenever needed. And so they did, no one could say that they were not obedient students after all.

"This guy said two weeks." Theodore finally said, breaking the silence they had worked in for a few minutes. "But you have not eaten since ages, I guess. Have you?"

"No." Harry simply answered, ignoring the other boy for a few moments more. But then he turned and lowered his head to one side, his eyes on the Slytherin that wasn't a Slytherin anymore.

Theodore Nott had the same nightmares as had he. And Theodore looked as tired and as frightened as was he, and as battered up. So – maybe he had been through the same as he had been.

"It's crap." He finally said. "What this guy said, about two weeks. It's absolute crap."

"How so?" Theodore asked, clearing the bowels away into a shelf above the counter.

"Because one can go without food for much longer if water is available." Harry answered. "That and a slice of bread or a soup from time to time. So stop worrying, we will survive much longer."

"But you haven't eaten anything close to a meal since ages, I guess, the way you look like."

"That might be, but listen, Theo, I've lived with the Dursleys my entire life and each summer I have to go back there. So I do know. I've managed months without a real meal."

"But you won't manage as long as the rest of us, will you?" Theodore asked, looking aside. He had asked the question he had not wanted to ask. The smaller Gryffindor might come to the conclusion that he might be the first one to die. And this he did not wish. But he just worried. He worried since this report, since what this doctor professor or whatever he was had said. Potter might be Potter. And Potter might be a Gryffindor, or a former Gryffindor, whatever. But Potter was not that bad and they shared the abuse they both went through each summer.

And now they shared being imprisoned in the dungeons, too.

The other boy however gave a small laugh away.

"You forget that I'm used to." He said. "I won't die so soon, so stop worrying. I do believe what Professor Snape said earlier. We will make it out of this mess alive. Somehow."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Snape lifted his head from the book he was reading the moment Harry and Theodore entered the classroom and he watched them sitting at a desk together, still conversing with each other. A fact that actually made him feeling pleased.

Draco got up from his mattress and went over to the two, as did Longbottom. Neville! He mentally corrected himself. Both, Draco and Neville took a seat at the same table, Draco beside Harry and Neville beside Theodore.

He cast a quick glance over the other students, judging their reaction at this, but he found nothing that was cause to worry. Only Weasley – yes, try it as he might, he just couldn't bring himself to call the other boy by his given name in his mind yet – looked disappointed, as if he felt betrayed.

"Finished?" Draco asked while he leaned back in his chair until the furniture's front legs hang in the air.

"Yap." Theodore answered, grinning, and Snape lifted his eyebrow. The boy looked much more relaxed than he had done before he had accompanied Harry into the kitchen. "And you should see Harry dancing one day."

"Dancing?" Draco gave a snorting laugher. "You're not serious!"

Harry too smiled at that, but he gave a gentle shove at Theodore's shoulder.

"Telltale!" He accused, but still with a smile on his face.

"Well, it's true." Theodore said, laughing now. "You should have seen yourself."

"Why did you dance, Harry?" Longbottom – Neville, asked curiously.

"I didn't dance!" Harry defended himself. "We were listening to the radio and I only moved to the music, that's all. It surely wasn't dancing! But maybe next time Theo will do so."

"Sure!" The other boy laughed. "If you lead, Potter!"

"Believe me, Nott, you wouldn't like that."

"Probably not." Theodore admitted. "But listen, there was a professor on the radio who talked about the … what did he call it?"

"The tragedy of Hogwarts." Harry answered with another snort.

"Yes." Theodore huffed. "And this guy said that we could survive two weeks down here without food."

Draco and Neville both looked from Harry to Theodore and then at each other before they looked back at the other two.

"But … but four days are already over." Neville quietly said. "So we have only …"

"Listen, Neville." Harry said. "We won't die in a week! Professor Snape said so and we should trust him. I do trust him!"

"But Professor Snape won't be able to keep us alive forever." Neville quietly said, so quietly that he, Snape, nearly missed it.

Well, maybe it was time to interfere, and he started to rise from his chair. Damn that idiots from the Daily Wireless News! How could they give such a predicament away on radio if the children that were in that very situation just might be able to hear it? Did they have no sense at all? He actually was having trouble to keep his seething anger under control.

"Maybe he won't." Theodore said. "But Harry is right, Longbottom. We should trust Professor Snape. He will find a solution. Either a way out of here or to get something to eat down here. So stop worrying."

"Exactly." Potter smiled, ripping parchments into small pieces. "Just write numbers onto those pieces so we can play a game of seven lost."

"Alright." Draco said, taking Harry's book bag and searching for ink and quill and Theodore followed suit, taking another parchment and ripping it in into half.

Snape sat back down with a sigh of relief. Again Potter – Harry, damn! – had proven to be able to distract the other children by simply … furrowing his brows he tried to remember what in Merlin's name 'seven lost' was.

"Ok, and what exactly is 'seven lost'?" Draco asked.

"Dunno." The smaller of the four shrugged his shoulders.

"Uhm … Potter …" Draco shook his head. "So what exactly do I have to write on those cards?"

"Those are no cards, Malf- … Draco." Neville said. "Those are parchments."

"Well, just use the numbers from exploding snap, Malf-Draco, I guess that will do." Harry smirked and Draco shook his head, sighing in played exasperation, while Neville looked from the black haired boy to the blond and back to the black haired, not grasping the funny part in it.

"However, Pot-Harry." Draco smirked, causing Theodore and Harry to start laughing while Neville still blinked in confusion at them. "Next time you have kitchen duty – what will be tomorrow if I read the plan correctly, then I will accompany you. It seems to be rather funny."

"You can read, Draco?" Blaze asked, coming over to them, attracted by their laugher.

"Of course, Zab-Blaze." Draco still laughed. "Or how do you think I always managed to cheat by copying from you during tests?"

"Idiot!" Blaize shook his head and sat at the table too. "You're not even near me, in classes, Draco. sorry, Malf-Draco, I meant. What are you playing though?"

"Seven lost." Harry answered, still grinning. "Whatever it is."

"Hey, it is you who made the suggestion." Neville shoved the other Gryffindor.

"So?" Harry asked, looking with an innocent blink at the other boy.

"Do you even know how it is played?"

"Seeing as I invented the game just a minute ago – no, not yet." Harry answered, causing the other boy's to snicker too and luring more of the Slytherins and Granger over to them. "But I guess we'll find out eventually how it's played."

"Well then – deal out the cards."

The smaller Gryffindor didn't even ask who would play but dealt out their – well 'cards' – to everyone present at the table and again Snape actually was pleased with the teen's behaviour. He included all of them, without questions and without hesitation.

"Uhm, seven cards, do you think it will be enough?" Harry asked, his brows furrowed.

"Guess." Blaze answered. "You called it 'seven lost' so I guess seven cards will fit."

"What with the rest of the cards?" Neville asked.

"How many do you have anyway?" Hermione inquired.

"Well, we got eight parchments into eight pieces each, so we have sixty-four cards now." Theodore answered.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, placed the remainder of their 'cards' – that wasn't much really – at the middle of the table. He turned one and then played one of those he held in his hand.

"And now?" Draco asked, looking curiously at the Gryffindor.

Harry blinked in concentration at the open card that lay on the table. A thing that actually caused Snape to hide the grin that threatened to creep upon his face, that particular boy and a look of concentration, something he had thought would not be possible.

"Well …" He slowly said. "It's a five. So Neville has to play a six or a four."

Neville nodded and then placed a card atop Harry's.

"Uhm …" Blaze made. "So I guess I will have to play a seven or a five."

"I guess so." Harry answered. "But if you play a seven, then you will have to take the entire pack of cards that is already played out except for the one you played."

"Hey! That's not fair!" Blaze wined. "You just made it up and I don't have a five."

"Of course I made it up." Harry grinned at him and with an exaggerating sigh as if he was about to die the other boy played out his seven and took the cards Neville and Harry already had played, including the one that Harry had turned over in the first place.

"What's with the other cards?" Theodore wanted to know.

Again Harry furrowed his brows for a moment before answering.

"Guess you take a card from there if you can't play one." He then said.

"So I could have taken one instead of playing the seven!" Blaze called out. "I wouldn't have had to take yours and Neville's then."

"No." Harry said. "If you have to play a five or a seven and you have a seven but not a five, then you have to play the seven. There wouldn't be fun in it otherwise."

It went on, the game, and Snape watched them, actually wondering if it was Potter's skills in distracting them or if it was the carelessness of youth in general that caused them to forget, to laugh, to joke and to behave as if nothing were amiss, as if they were not imprisoned in the dungeons classroom without food since four days now.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was a few hours later when all the students slept and Snape looked over at Harry who was bent over another piece of parchment, scribbling on it and for a moment the Potions Master grimaced at the thought of the messy writing the boy always did his essays he handed in with – barely readable.

He had handed the dreamless sleep potion Harry and Theodore could use tonight over to both of them and Theodore soon after had fallen asleep, but Harry still was awake. The vial with the dreamless sleep still standing on the table in front of him and he wondered what the boy was doing. Surely he wasn't working on the potions essay he had given them earlier in the week, on Monday, shortly before all of this had started. Aside from Theodore during his first night no one had done this essay.

Slowly and quietly he got up from his desk and went over to the teenager.

"Harry?" He asked, quietly, but audible enough so the messy head snapped up to look at him and Snape took another step closer. "Are you not able to sleep? I wondered what you are doing still awake."

Harry shook his head, his heart beating slightly faster at the shock the Potions Master had given him. The man stood beside him, dark and imposing as always, but even now he could see some of the harsh lines in the man's face soften slightly.

"I'm sorry." He replied. "I thought you were asleep too."

"Clearly not." Snape growled, his left hand coming to rest on the boy's shoulder. "I do not tend to falling asleep on my desk. Why are you not asleep, Harry? You do need as much rest as possible."

The boy bit his lower lip nervously and for a moment Snape was tempted to pull it out from between the Gryffindor's teeth. But then the teen sighed and released it, placed the quill atop the parchment that lay on the table.

"I don't know." He then said quietly. "Maybe I was just too confused to, had a few things to think through. I just couldn't settle."

Severus gave away a soft chuckle, startling the teenager in the act.

"A recent development, Mr. Potter. You used to be unable to think properly in the past." He said.

"You … you laughed!" The boy gasped at him before he realized what he had blurted out and blushed a red that would make Ronald Weasley's hair jealous.

"Contrary to popular believe I am a living human being and that for I am able to produce such a thing as a laugh, as shocking as it might seem to you." Snape lifted his eyebrow, rather confused by himself. Again he had insulted the boy, probably out of habit, and surely in a much gentler way than he normally did, in a nearly teasing, joking way, but he had done so nevertheless. Harry however had not taken it as an insult as it seemed.

"May I take a seat?" He then asked, apparently startling the teen again with his question as the boy first blinked at him and then quickly nodded.

"Of course, sir."

"What exactly are you writing at?" Snape then asked, not understanding why he bothered in the first place. Neither was he a conversional type in the first place, nor had he ever sought out conversations with the students in general. "I do not believe that this might be the essay I gave you earlier in the week. Aside from Theodore no one has done this assignment yet. They all seem to be under the misconception that I might forget about it due to the strange circumstances we are in at the present time."

"Uhm … well …" The boy made, blushing again. "Actually, I have done it already. As has Hermione."

"I should have known that Miss Granger would not miss working on this essay." Snape nodded, taking in the tense shoulders, the tense face and the fingers that were held stiffly. "I however am surprised that you too have done the assignment yet. May I have a look?"

Did the boy feel that unwell in his presence? He thought back to a few minutes earlier while Harry nodded at him and then bent over to retrieve the essay from his book bag. No. the boy had been tense before, while scribbling at the parchment and again he wondered what it was Harry had been working on.

The teen handed the parchment with the essay over to him and Snape took it, read it through, while Harry watched him nervously, his lower lip between his teeth again.

After a few minutes Snape looked up and lifting his eyebrow he reached over and this time actually pulled the teen's lower lip from between his teeth.

"I think your body has been damaged enough, Mr. Potter, so you do not have to add injury to it yourself." He said. "I cannot fail noticing however, that this essay is beyond what you normally are handing in, Harry. It seems you actually have given the task some consideration this time."

"I did." The boy said quietly, blushing again and looking aside, but nevertheless Snape had been able to see the glimpse of a happy gleam in the green eyes.

"You might be careful, Mr. Potter." He couldn't help teasing, his voice a deep and low threat and his eyebrow sarcastically lifted. "I might take this work as a new standard when it comes to your essays in future time."

The teen looked over at him with a small grin on his face and his eyes seemed to say 'try me' for a moment, but the boy didn't answer to that.

"What are you working at though?" He then asked, nodding at the parchment that still lay in front of the boy.

"Uhm … well …" Harry made and Snape had the impression that he didn't really want to tell him. But then, with a small sigh, the teen slumped his shoulders and the tension was released by resigned weakness. "I'm just writing down a few thoughts."

"And you are worried about the near future." Snape stated, inclining his head to one side while watching the child in front of him close. "Or why are you so afraid of telling me about this work of yours?"

"Actually, no." The teen answered. "Well, yes. I am worried, I would be stupid if I weren't. But I do believe what I said earlier. I do trust you. And besides, well, I guess death wouldn't be that much of a problem. Everyone has to die one day and Professor Dumbledore said that death only is a step into the next adventure, or something like that."

"So?" Snape asked, lifting his eyebrow, not only out of curiousity but because of the fact that this thought, the thought of dying, didn't seem to startle the boy. Was he beyond of caring if he lived or died already? Was he even …

"Well … none of the others do that." Harry said quietly, pointing at the parchment in front of him. "I mean … well … getting sentimental and such …"

"I see." Snape still fixed him with his harsh black eyes that somehow seemed not so harsh anymore than they had been in the past. "And you think a boy your age should not do such a thing as – writing down some thoughts."

"Well, Hermione surely would if she weren't afraid of thinking about what might happen. And the other girls probably too. They are girls after all."

"What do you think, Harry, how so many male authors managed to write great novels if they wouldn't – get sentimental – as you so eloquently put it, from time to time?" Snape asked, lifting his eyebrow again. "To think about things and to write down one's thoughts is not something only girls do. Neither is it something dependant on age. Maybe it might calm you to know that I too started writing down not only the happenings during the past days but my thoughtsas well , Mr. Potter. So, may I make a suggestion?"

The green eyes were watching him for a few moments with apprehension before Harry nodded, slowly and unsurely.

"Continue with your work." Snape said. "If you so wish and if it does not upset you but helps you dealing with everything. But do so without fearing you would do something that is – 'wrong' or something that would not be 'appropriate' for a boy your age. Because it is perfectly appropriate what you are doing."

The teen nodded at him with a confused and thoughtful expression on his face, clearly still not used to this new Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry and he knew that the boy had every reason to be confused. He never had given Harry any reason to trust him as much as he already did. He never had given him a reason to actually try and do as he expected of the student and he never had given him a reason to act considerable and respectful towards him.

This would change, Snape promised himself. He had promised he would care for this child, and he would do so. He knew that the teen would need time to get used to it, but he would care for the boy. He had failed him often enough.

He had failed him during his first year when he had come to Hogwarts – and right now Snape again remembered the tiny, scrawny and bruised first year standing in front of the head table and waiting to be sorted. He remembered the boy being at least a head smaller than the other first years. He remembered Theodore standing not far away, tired and bruised as well. He mentally had seen the other child in his house already, had seen the abuse that had been visible in Theodore's bruises. But he had not seen it with Harry.

And he had failed Harry in his second year, the moment he had heard him talking parseltongue. He should have acted then, he should have taken the small Gryffindor aside and he should have talked to him. But he hadn't.

And he had failed him in third year again. He should have seen the signs in third year at the latest. They had been there even clearer back then. The boy had been a walking skeleton after the summer holidays, with dark circles underneath his eyes in a pale face and with hands that were bruised, covered with cuts and burns. He had seen the boy's hands during potions of course, but he never had reacted.

Not to mention that Harry had been the one who had hexed him in the shrieking shack. And he would have had the best excuse to talk to the boy then. To make him seeing some sense. But again he hadn't.

So yes, he had failed one of his students. And never mind what house Harry was in, he – Snape – was a teacher at Hogwarts. And that for, the boy was one of his students. He had a responsibility over them, over all of them, Harry included.

"I however would appreciate it, if you took your rest soon, Mr. Potter." He said sternly, sharp black eyes locking into tired green ones. "You will be able to work on this tomorrow, but right now I expect you to at least rest if you cannot sleep. Your body needs rest as well as your mind and you yourself. It is important for your survival and I am sure you do already know this by yourself."

"Yes, sir." The boy answered obediently. "I just will finish this sentence."

Snape nodded curtly and then left the teen, went back to his own desk. He himself would finish the page he was reading, and then he would try to sleep too. The next days would be strenuous enough, he guessed – if they were not rescued by then.

Previously in twenty-one days

"Yes, sir." The boy answered obediently. "I just will finish this sentence."

Snape nodded curtly and then left the teen, went back to his own desk. He himself would finish the page he was reading, and then he would try to sleep too. The next days would be strenuous enough, he guessed – if they were not rescued by then.

Chapter nine

Day five

Friday, sixth of September

Albus was sitting at the head table in the great hall, his eyes wandering over the students, but for once the twinkling of his eyes was gone. This was the fifth day now, since Severus, Harry and the other fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins were missing, locked away in the dungeons. The fifth day and still they had no word from them.

He of course had tried to send the house elves down into the dungeons, and he of course had tried to send Venenatus down into his own frame in the dungeons. He had tried to make portkeys, had even asked for help from the ministry, and he had tried the floo. He had tried to send food down by a delivering charm and he had tried to even get a time-tuner from the ministry.

Of course he had known that they wouldn't allow that, but he'd just had to try.

Minerva, sitting beside him, was pale and her face looked drawn, tired and hopeless. Half of the students down there were from her own house after all. Of course all the remaining teachers were rather miserable these days, but Minerva, being the head of some of those missing students, she was not herself these days.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was Friday morning and normally they would have potions. Well, they already were in the potions classroom. So – why not, Snape thought and sighed. Potter had wanted them to brew, maybe to have a few more batches of the nutrient potions, maybe just to distract them. The boy was good at such games of aversions, he had noticed the past few days. And never mind their history, nor his opinion of the boy in general, he actually appreciated it. Not to mention the fact that his point of view concerning Harry Potter had changed immensely.

But could he really risk them brewing this potion?

The ingredients they had were limited. If they made mistakes, what they surely would do, then it was a waste of said ingredients and he surely couldn't afford this. But on the other hand he also knew that they had to do something, that they had to take action in their survival and that they … well, Potter was right in one thing. They were here. And they needed the nutrient potion anyway. So they could brew it. He just would have to be extra careful. And maybe, if not all of them brewed but only those who actually wanted to brew and the others made something else meanwhile - he would have time then to explain better and to watch them more closely to prevent mistakes.

Leaving his desk and turning towards the students he watched them for a moment thoughtfully.

"Those of you, who would like brewing a batch of nutrient potion, please follow me into the laboratory." He finally said, trying to judge from the faces who would do as he just had suggested. Potter definitely, the boy looked eager. Granger, Draco, Theodore and Blaze too. They all looked positive and were already leaving their mattresses.

"The rest of you, please try to think about the next lesson for this afternoon or tomorrow morning and what subject you would like to cover. We cannot practise spells or charms, but we can learn the theories behind it. I expect ideas and plans of you. Discuss it and take notes."

Draco, Theodore, Blaze, Tracy, Potter, Granger, and to his surprise, Weasley, got up and followed him to the laboratory. For a moment he was tempted to refuse Potter and Weasley. Those two, just after Longbottom, were a guarantee that the classroom would be destroyed by an exploding cauldron. But then – well, it had been Potter's idea in the first place and he had promised the boy that he could brew the potion. And Weasley? Well, as strange as it might seem to him, if the boy showed interest – then be it. Maybe the boy had thought over a few things after his detention. There hadn't been an episode after all since then. So he just nodded at them and allowed them into his laboratory.

After all, he was glad that there was interest in the first place.

That was something that many students didn't understand – Snape did appreciate students that were genuinely interested in learning.

His temper was terribly short when it seemed the majority of his students only wanted to learn how to do pranks – like those blasted Weasley twins for example – or how to create the biggest explosion possible in his classroom – like Longbottom, just for example.

But honestly, the twins at least wanted to succeed in potions, and if it only was to do their pranks, but they actually had a nick for the subject. They were talented and they were creative. Just a bit too daring, he thought. But well - at least they were responsible enough so their pranks were well thought trough and no one got really hurt by them.

He had however never turned away any child that actually asked for help. Never mind what subject in. So surely he wouldn't start doing so now. He would have to be more careful and he would have to be more attentive, but he would not turn them away.

He would have them brewing in pairs.

If he got Draco and Theodore together, and Blaze and Granger, then he would have to observe two cauldrons less. Those four would manage with little help.

The question however was – what would he do with Potter, Weasley and Tracy?

He didn't want to pair the both boys, he still didn't trust Weasley. And he didn't want to pair Weasley and Tracy either. Again because he still didn't trust Weasley.

He could place Potter and Tracy together, those two seemed to get along pretty well and Potter already had comforted the girl once. But that would leave Weasley alone and he … well, there was no other way. Potter and Weasley had been friends at one point, but it was clear that they were not now, even if Weasley behaved so far.

"Draco and Theodore, take a cauldron, Blaze and Granger, take another one, and Potter and Tracy, take a third one. Weasley, you will brew with me." He gave out his instructions and then went over to the ingredients cupboard to get what they would need while the children got the cauldrons.

For a moment he caught Potter's eye and startled he narrowed his eyes at the hurt and disappointment the boy watched him with after he had announced that he would brew with Weasley and not with him. Did the boy want to spend time with him so desperately? Did the boy already ... no, that wasn't possible, the boy surely had not started to form a bond with him, not after five days only.

After they all were settled he again turned to his small class. Seven students, a small NEWT class, only younger. They would do their last OWLS at the end of next year and they would have their NEWT classes at the beginning of sixth year. They just had entered their fourth year now. They had just finished their third year, just three month ago. They only were fourteen year old children, he suddenly realized. Teenagers. Children! They only were children still.

And yet – they probably would die.

Gritting his teeth and rounding his desk to lean against the wooden furniture he forced those thoughts aside and concentrated onto the task at hand.

"What would a potion such as a nutrient potion need?" He asked, looking into blank faces – aside from Granger. "Yes? Miss Granger?" He asked, again telling himself that he should not turn the girl away with her answer as he normally would do.

"I think something that contains sugar." The girl answered as soon as her name was out.

"Why would you think so?" He asked, already knowing what answer the girl would give next.

"Because sugar has the most calories and it pushes up the level of blood sugar in your system."

"What kind of sugar is ordinary sugar, Miss Granger?" He asked, satisfied with his predicament.

"Ordinary sugar – well … it's a disaccharide, sir."

"Correct, Miss Granger." Snape said, walking over to her and leaning with his hands onto the surface of her desk, watching her intently but calmly. "Your body however won't be able to absorb disaccharide. You would need monosaccharide for that. How does your body compensate this?" He asked, again knowing that the Gryffindor know-it-all … well, that the girl would know the answer.

He really should get used to calling them by respectable names, by their given names, if possible.

"It splits up the disaccharide." Granger answered.

"That is correct. The body splits the disaccharide – what means said body has to work doing so. And if a body works, then it has to spend energy, in other words calories. It is pushed up before it falls down again. What is the opposite effect of what we want to achieve. If a person is in need of a nutrient potion, then you generally can say that said person is malnourished. So it would not be wise to get it working. What we need is a relatively stable situation and so we need monosaccharide, that will be what, Miss Granger?"

"Dextrose, fructose and lactose."

"Correct, Miss Granger. Do not forget Honey, that too is a common monosaccharide."

"And you said you have honey here."

"We do, Miss Granger." Snape answered. "We will however not use it in this potion. We will need dextrose here. What else would we need in such a potion?" He asked again and Granger was just about to answer this question as well and he held up his hand to stop her.

"I do not wish to have a dialogue with you alone, Miss Granger, but a discussion with the entire class. You however gained yourself five points. Mr. Potter? Any ideas? What else would we need in such a potion?"

The boy blinked at him in pure shock, maybe at being asked about his ideas, maybe at being asked without a scathing remark, maybe at being called Mr. Potter in class instead of simply Potter.

"Uhm – Vitamins?" The boy then answered unsurely.

"That is correct, Mr. Potter. Which ones?"

"Uhm … well … retinol? And carotenoids?" Potter asked and Snape actually had to lift his eyebrow at him to hide his surprise. The boy actually was able to name the vitamins instead of saying just the letters of them? Wherefrom had he learned that? It wasn't covered in any potions books prior to sixth year. And it wasn't covered in any other books that were needed at Hogwarts. To have them learned now the boy actually would have had to read potions books or healing books that were far ahead of his year.

But then – well, the boy had known that sleep would help with being hungry. The boy already had known what hunger felt like before they had found themselves in this very situation.

The boy had been injured badly each summer, had been starved each summer. And the boy never had searched for help from an adult. Neither from Poppy, or the woman would have addressed the headmaster or him, nor from Minerva, Albus or – even him. It only was logical that he had tried to gain knowledge from books. Healing books and potions books that would help him with healing himself at the beginning of each school year when he was back at Hogwarts.

For a moment he had to force himself to keep his indifferent mask in place as he felt that his features went soft at those thoughts. The child never had trusted an adult to ask for help and instead had healed himself each year upon coming back to the wizarding world and Hogwarts from sever injuries he had sustained from beatings and malnourishment during the summer.

It was even worse as his own childhood had been and he remembered that all too well, he knew what it meant and he knew what it felt like.

"That is correct, Mr. Potter. Which else?" He asked while he went over to the boy's desk and – just as he had done before while listening to Granger's explanations – leaned his hands on the desk. He however tried to look even more calmly at the child, knowing how easy he would startle the boy, even if only accidentally.

"Uhm … thiamine and biotin?" The Gryffindor answered slowly, watching him warily.

"Correct. Tell me one more, Mr. Potter."

"Uhm … well … maybe … ascorbic acid?"

"Was that a question or a statement, Mr. Potter?"

"Uhm … well … a statement … I guess."

The boy had gone pale with this question and his answer was nothing more than a quiet, hesitant whisper.

"A correct one, Mr. Potter." He said, nodding at the boy. "You named me five of them correctly and you will get five points for that. There are however a few more your body is in need of. We will use a prepared mix of vitamins, proteins and minerals in terms of dry chemical, together with the dextrose powder. You have done well, Mr. …" He paused for a moment, still gazing calmly into those frightened green eyes and he inclined his head. "You have done well, Harry." He then quietly said.

Severus had never been one for praise and affection, but he could see that it was doing wonders for the child in front of him. The boy nearly smiled, nearly, but his eyes definitely held a flicker of something he couldn't name for a moment and he quickly had to leave this desk before this hopeful eyes would be his undoing. Again he wondered what Potter was doing to him.

"What else do we need? Mr. Malfoy?" He asked, turning to his godson. He knew that Draco was adept enough in potions so that he might know the answers.

"Water to dissolve the vitamins in."

"That is correct, Draco. Are all of them hydro soluble?"

"No, sir."

"Which one – of the from Mr. Potter before mentioned vitamins – is not hydro soluble?"

"I think, ascorbic acid."

"That is correct. What would we need for this one?"

"Fat, sir."

"What we would find in which form suitable for such a potion?"

Well, that question got the boy and he suppressed a smirk and lifted his eyebrow instead. He liked it to challenge his Slytherins and his godson especially.

"I don't know, sir." Draco answered after a moment.

"Then think of it, Draco, if you want to have the five points." He said, leaning closer. "Any guess would be welcomed."

He practically could see the wheels in the boy's head turning and turning and turning still, but the face kept blank, no sign of recognition, of an idea.

"You may think aloud, Mr, Malfoy, if this will help you." He quietly said, waiting patiently.

"I just don't know it." Draco then said, shaking his head. "It can't be a simple fat like oil or butter." He then added upon his inquiring gaze.

"Why not, Draco?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow again.

"I don't know, it simply would be too easy." Draco shook his head and shrug one shoulder.

"So, what do you think?" He asked, leaning closer again.

"I think there might be some chemical reactions in the human body that helps to dissolve those vitamins. I don't think that you actually can dissolve them in simple fat."

"Your train of thought actually is a good one, Draco. Those vitamins however are soluble in – simple oil. In other words, we need oil also." He cast one more look upon the blond Slytherin before he finally straightened himself and turned back to the class, his tone of voice business again. "That makes five points to you, Draco. Can we dissolve hydro soluble and fat soluble vitamins in one go?" He then asked, stopping in front of Weasley's desk. "Mr. Weasley?" He addresses the boy.

"I don't know." Said boy answered.

"Then think about it, Mr. Weasley, and let me know your thoughts - we might come to a solution."

The redhead looked at him startled, but then shrug his shoulders.

"I guess not." He then answered. "I guess you would need to dissolve them separately. But you said it was a mix of dry chemicals we would use and so we would have to split it up first. What would be stupid."

"You are right, Mr. Weasley." Snape said, nodding. "It would be stupid to split up an already prepared mix of all the vitamins, proteins and minerals. So what do you think, would we need to add this mix to? Water or oil?"

"I'm not sure." The blasted boy answered again, not ready to use his brain as it seemed. He was intelligent enough to recognize that it actually would be stupid to split an already prepared mix of ingredients, but he wasn't ready to think of how to use it then.

"What do you think, then?" He asked, leaning closer and piercing the youngest Weasley with his eyes.

"I don't know?" The boy answered, leaning back a bit. "Maybe water?"

"Why?" He asked, not backing away, not giving the boy room, but forcing him to use his brain with his closeness.

"Because normally powder is mixed in water?"

"A simple train of thoughts, and not always correct, but yes, you are right in this case." He finally said, letting out a deep breath and straightening up again. "We will need water. That will be five points to you, Mr. Weasley."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"How can you do that, Albus?" Minerva asked quietly.

"What Minerva?" The headmaster looked at the woman questioningly. He had been a little absent with his thoughts, as he often was lately, and he was not sure what exactly his deputy had asked him or told him earlier. And so he didn't know what exactly she was referring to right now.

"How can you be so calm, Albus?" Minerva repeated herself. She would have transfiguration right now with her fourth years Gryffindors and with the Slytherins and during those now free periods she felt particularly miserable. So she had followed Albus into his office after breakfast, just to have some company. "How can you be so calm, knowing that seventeen students – and Severus too, soon might die?"

"I don't know, Minerva." Albus said, sighing heavily and running his hand over his forehead. He adjusted his glasses and sighed once more. "I can't answer you this question. I guess I just try to deal with it as good as possible."

"None of them … they are children, Albus. None of them deserve such a fate. If there were only a way to help them."

"I know, Minerva." Albus shook his head. "And Severus and Harry are the last who deserved such a fate. I do love those two deeply. I always hoped that I would be able to get them to get closer somehow. They are so much alike. But I fear … I fear now that never will happen."

His hands shook a bit while he poured some tea into two cups and reached one to the deputy headmistress. He even didn't feel the need anymore to indulge in his lemon drops. How could he eat lemon drops when there were seventeen children in his care, and when there was one of his teachers and friends trapped down in the dungeons since days? And being hungry? Maybe dying soon?

"Is there really no way, Albus?" Minerva asked desperately her voice sounding as miserable as he, Albus, felt himself. "Do you not have an emergency plan? Why are we not simply able to blast our way through those walls?"

"I have checked them." Albus answered. "Not only the doors are warded, Minerva. The entire area is hermetically sealed by those wards. There is nothing we can do."

"What if they really will die? Albus! They are down there since five days without food. They must be hungry and frightened. And there is nothing we can do! That is … it is frustrating. It is a nightmare."

"I do understand you, Minerva." Albus sighed again. "I feel the same frustration as do you. But there really is nothing we can do."

"What will we do if they really will die, Albus?" Minerva asked, her voice nearly chocked now. "What will we do if we finally find a way to undo those wards and find them all dead?"

"I refuse to think of this option, Minerva." Albus said, his face pale, paler than it had been a moment before and he felt a sense of dread, of foreboding. "I refuse to give up on them, I believe that we somehow will find a way to get them help before they die."

"But what if we do not?"

"I don't know, Minerva." The headmaster said. "I don't know."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I am sure that all of you are tired." Snape said, knowing that – as tired and as hungry as they all were – he had demanded a lot of them. Not only with having them answered all those questions so they had to use their brains, but with having them brewing the basic of the nutrient potion as well. It had not been an easy task, being hungry and having to concentrate, and he knew it. But they all had done well, and they all had been distracted enough so they hopefully would be able to sleep for an hour or two without their usual worries. More and more of them had started having nightmares. Nightmares of being trapped, of being hungry and of dying.

"The base will have to rest until tomorrow morning and then we can add the dry chemicals before bottling the potion." He continued. "We cannot add the dry chemicals now because if keeping them heated until the basic is settled the vitamins would be destroyed. Go back to the classroom and simply take a nap. If you cannot sleep, then read a book or just indulge in daydreaming. It will help you to rest and save strength."

The seven students he'd had in his laboratory silently nodded and tiredly left the room. He followed them and his gaze wandered through the classroom as soon as he entered.

Vincent, Gregory, Finnigan and Longbottom were sitting at a table, playing the 'game of cards' Potter had invented the day before. Seven lost, he had called the game, and they had played with peace in their minds until most of them had gone to bed.

At some point they had shoved two desks together on their long sides so that they now formed one large table at which everyone fit around and he had left those 'cards' on the table that had become the centre of the classroom – and their attention. It was as if this desk was something like a neutral meeting point between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. A place where truce ruled.

The two Slytherins and the two Gryffindors were playing there in peace, whispering to each other and he couldn't feel any animosity coming from them. They were quite at ease with each other and he was thankful for that.

The rest of the students were laying on the mattresses, sleeping.

"We're finished, sir." Vincent quietly whispered the moment he went over to them. "We've made a list. The rest was tired and lay down."

He nodded at them and took the parchment Gregory handed over to him, looking it over shortly and then placing it on his desk. He would take a nap too while most of them slept.

"I trust that the four of you won't do anything stupid?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted.

"No, sir." They answered, shaking their heads.

"I do trust you, that all of you are responsible enough to be left alone while I take the liberty of taking a nap myself. Please do wake me, Vincent, if I am not up by myself in an hour or the others wake up before that time."

"Yes, sir." The boy answered.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Poppy Pomfrey was brewing potions with a grim expression on her pale face.

She knew that she didn't as good a job as Severus would do, but she also knew that she had to do it. She not only had to restock the potions she needed in the hospital wing herself, but she also needed to brew potions in hopes that they would be able to reach Severus and the students that were trapped in the dungeons in time.

She would need nutrient potions then, special calming draughts that wouldn't harm them. They surely would be too weak and their bodies surely wouldn't be able to deal with the regular potions she had in her stocks. She needed weaker pain easing potions and she needed muscle relaxing potions.

She also had to plan what they would be able to eat as soon as they were free, and she had to ensure that she had enough free beds here in the infirmary. If only those children and Severus would be free in time. If only they would survive.

She'd had enough students over here during the past five days.

Friends of the missed students that worried over them, siblings that had a nervous breakdown every now and then, others that just didn't understand the situation, mostly the first years.

For those first years it really must be a scary thought to know that in the dungeons of this castle were seventeen students and a teacher locked up since days, most probably about to die. Most of the first years and some of the second years were startled and frightened. They already talked about seeing their ghosts and startled the third years with that.

But she knew that they didn't do so because they were playing a prank, or because they wanted to frighten the others, but simply because they believed it, because their over productive minds played tricks on them and they told everyone of the ghosts they had seen.

Especially the Weasley twins and Ginevra Weasley had her worried. Their brother, Ronald Weasley, was one of the students trapped in the dungeons and they worried deeply. The Weasley-twins had stopped their pranks and Ginevra Weasley barely was seen outside of her dormitory or classes.

She seemed unable to eat by herself and Minerva had brought her over to the hospital wing in need of a calming draught, a dreamless sleep potion or a nutrient potion more than once since Monday morning. She even considered keeping the girl here if it got worse with her, if she lost weight more, if she didn't sleep more soon. The child surely was worried beyond what she could take.

And then there was Harry.

The boy really had enough on his back, since years.

Aside from Albus she never had mentioned anything to anyone as she never had had any proof and the boy always had denied it, but she was sure that the boy had been mistreated by his relatives. The boy always was thinner when he came back from the summer holidays. And the scars he had seen on him … well, she had that particular boy here in the infirmary at least three times each term, the boy practically had a bed with his name on it.

This time however, she had been about to mention something to Severus.

Albus might not have seen it the way she had. The headmaster always believed in the good of people. And he simply did not believe that Petunia Dursley nee Evans, the sister of his beloved student Lily Evans, would abuse her sister's son.

But she knew that Severus would see it.

Maybe he didn't see it right now. He hated that boy. He always had hated James Potter, and with a reason, she had to admit, and now he hated the son of his schooldays nemesis. But she also knew that if she told him about the scars and about how thin the boy always was after the holidays, then he would see it. Severus was someone, he would help, never mind how much he hated someone. He would lay his hate aside, at least until the child was healed and out of the abusive family.

He might return to his loathing later, maybe, but he would place reason and necessity over his feelings and he would help. And she also knew that Severus would find a way to get the boy talking. To talk about the abuse. Severus always managed it with his Slytherins.

But now …

As she saw it, Harry would be the first one to die, followed by Theodore Nott.

Nott.

That boy had been visiting her on Sunday evening after the welcoming feast. Severus always sent him over after the holidays, just as he always sent over other children as well, and just as he sent over all the new first year Slytherins each year. And Theodore Nott had been worse this year than last year, but she had been able to at least heal his injuries.

And now that.

Sometimes she wondered why in Merlin's name she was doing this.

All the times Severus brought her an abused child her heart hurt, but she at least was able to do something. At least she was able to heal them, to help them, to even help Severus in getting them out of their abusive homes sometimes.

But this time?

This time she could do nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She knew that there were seventeen children and a friend of her that were suffering, but she could do nothing against it. She even knew where those seventeen children and Severus were, but she could not reach then, she could not help them. She could do nothing, she was absolutely helpless.

And right now she wanted nothing more than to lock herself in her office, to sit at her desk and to place her arms over the wooden surface of the table, to burry her head in them and to cry. But she knew that she couldn't afford that. They needed her. The students that were here trying to struggle through the castle's routine and classes, worried and frightened, as well as the students that were locked down in the dungeons, hungry, frightened, exhausted and … well, hopefully not about to die.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus lay down onto the sofa in the small restroom that was attached to his office, where Harry and Theodore had been sleeping two nights ago, and he closed his eyes immediately.

But sleep did not come.

What was it that kept his mind circling around Potter? Around Harry?

He knew it was not pity.

He had enough abused children in his house so that he knew they did not need pity, so that he knew they did not even want pity. They needed stability, they needed understanding, warmth, maybe even comfort, they needed a hand that guided them, someone who challenged them to go on, who told them how to go on, and someone who just was there. But not pity.

Not to mention the little fact that he was not a person who even had the ability to pity someone. He had seen enough death and torture throughout his years as a Death Eater and then as a spy to Dumbledore so that he had become a cold and harsh man that didn't pity anyone.

But if it wasn't pity – and he was sure it wasn't – what was it then? What exactly was it that made him feel angry whenever he laid his eyes on Harry? And not angry at the boy but angry at those muggles that were his relatives?

Well, yes. Of course he always felt anger, even fury, at those abused children's parents or guardians. But never to such a point where he himself actually hurt.

Anger and fury was one feeling. But the pain he felt inside his chest was another one, and he knew it. He just didn't understand what exactly it was.

Of course he knew that his point of view concerning this particular child had changed over the past few days. He had learned that he had been wrong about him. That he neither was spoiled, nor selfish. That he even was abused, neglected and that he nevertheless cared deeply for others. That he wasn't arrogant but trying to remain his last dignity.

But he also knew that there was more. It wasn't only the change of view.

He had not taken a potion that would make him wanting to be close to the child, he hadn't taken any potion. And the child itself hadn't woven a spell over him either as they simply were not able to do magic down here. And yet - he simply wanted to be close to the child.

He wasn't stupid, and he knew that sometimes such a situation could get people together, people that had hated each other before. But he also knew that he wasn't a person driven by his emotions either.

He normally kept his distance, never mind what exactly the situation was. And even if he never hesitated to comfort his Slytherins, to enfold his arms around them if needed, he always had kept his distance to them. He never had allowed them to come close enough so their pain could hurt him too. So – how had Harry managed this? Harry of all people?

Turning on the sofa in his restroom he again closed his eyes and tried to sleep, managing a few minutes later, falling into a deep slumber and dreaming of a fragile black haired child with a thin and pale face looking at him with pleading green eyes. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what exactly the child was pleading for. He already had healed his injuries. And he already had given the child something to eat. And he had promised the child that he would not have to go back there, where it came from, but still the child's tired and pained green eyes were pleading with him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Filius Flitwick was sitting in his office. Well, if someone still could call it an office.

The desk, the seats, the sideboards, the floor – every part of the office was covered with open books, with parchments, with ancient scrolls and even with old letters.

He was the charms teacher since many, many years now, he had been Severus' teacher back then when the man had been a student at Hogwarts himself and he always had loved his job. But right now he cursed the fact that he hadn't continued in his own studies.

He had his charms mastery of course and he knew his expertise. He also was one of the best duelers that there were. And wards – they were his special subject. He loved them, he lived them and he even breathed them.

He loved to install them, knowing that no one would be able to get past them, and he loved it to break them.

A lot of Death Eaters had been caught because he had been able to break through their wards, and surely no one could say that Death Eaters were not paranoid and had weak wards. They had the best, even better than those of the aurors, better than even Alastor Mad-Eye Constant Vigilance Moody.

But he had not been able to breach through those wards that had been installed by Hogwarts itself around the dungeon.

Besides of Albus, Minerva and Severus, he was one of the teachers that each year strengthened the castle's wards during the summer holidays, that kept them up to date and that ensured that the school's wards would keep the students safe during the upcoming school year. So he knew the kind of wards Hogwarts cast, he knew the wards the castle preferred. He even was able to undo them in a case of emergency.

Albus once had been badly injured and Severus had been in need to apparate him directly into the infirmary – what normally wasn't possible. No one could apparate from, to, or within Hogwarts. But there had been this emergency once and he had undone the castle's wards so Severus had been able to apparate with the headmaster directly to Poppy. He had recast the wards afterwards and no harm had been done.

But he wasn't able to undo those wards.

None of the children down there was from his house, true, but they were only children and they had done nothing to deserve such a cruel fate like the one they right now were facing down there. He was not only a teacher here at Hogwarts, he was a head of a house himself and he knew the responsibility – not to mention that he simply liked children.

And Severus.

It had taken him some years to accept the fact that Severus was not a Death Eater anymore but a spy for Albus. And it had taken him a few more years to not only trust the dark Potions Master, but to understand him and to actually like him.

Of course he never would tell him, he wasn't suicidal after all. But he did respect and like the always grumpy man, even if he always took points from his house and gave his students detention, even if his students called him unfair. He knew that Severus only wanted to keep the students safe, as did every teacher here.

Well, yes – apart from Quirrel and Lockhart, he had to admit, he still didn't know who of the two had been worse.

Long story short – He long ago had seen that Severus only wanted to help those children who needed help – and successfully so.

But now?

Tiredly he placed his head in his hands and closed his eyes before he forced himself upright again, took a vial of pepper up potion and downed it in one go.

The burning sensation of the potion itself that ran down his throat already was welcomed and the burning sensation the moment steam came out of his ears had him awake and let him breathing a sigh of relief. He would be able to work on those damn wards for another few hours.

He knew that he had to stop taking the pepper up potion, and soon, but he simply couldn't afford sleep right now, not while there were eighteen lives at risk.

He had to overcome those wards.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

An hour was over and Vincent was about to get up from his chair to wake his head of house when Neville looked at him and then placed his hand softly atop his arm, shaking his head.

"Let him sleep." The Gryffindor quietly said. "If he's as tired as we are, then he'll need his sleep and he hadn't slept much. He always goes to sleep after us and is awake before us. The first night he hadn't slept at all."

"You do know about whom you're speaking of, Longbottom, don't you?" Vincent asked and Neville nodded his head, managing a quick but scared look towards the door that led to the Potions Master's office.

"Of course." He said. "Or did you forget what my boggart turned into?"

Snickering quietly Gregory handed out the next round of cards.

"No." He said. "But in this case you should know that one better does not go against Professor Snape's orders. And he ordered to wake him in an hour. That means – now."

"He said so, because he felt the need to watch us so we wouldn't do something stupid." Neville said. "But if we behave, and if we keep an eye on the others when they wake up, then there is no need for Professor Snape to stay awake. We should let him sleep. Surely he's as tired as we are."

"You're right." Vincent said. "But he's the adult and we're the children. He always says that we don't have to solve everything, that we should trust and obey his orders as they have a reason. And he said to wake him in an hour."

"I know. And he probably is right." Neville shook his head and took the cards, sorted them on his hand. "But that isn't such a big deal. We're in no immediate danger. We are fourteen after all and we can look after ourselves for a while. We should let him sleep. He needs his rest just as do we."

"I do appreciate your gesture, Mr. Longbottom, but Mr. Crabbe is right." Came the man's deep and velvet voice, startling him into freezing at the spot. "If I give you an order, then I expect you to obey – quickly and effectively. Because if I give you an order, then there might be a reason behind it, don't you think so?"

"Uhm … well … yes … sir." Neville answered, blushing as red as a tomato. "Sorry … sir …"

"Apology accepted." The Potions Master nodded at the Gryffindor. "Professor McGonagall might never have taught you such and I start to see why the Gryffindors are always heading into danger to safe other people, but it is not necessary. You are children only and you do not have to solve everyting. There are enough adults around here to take over dangerous situations or situations that are simply over your head. So next time I simply expect you to obey, regardless of my own safety. As Mr. Crabbe said. I am the adult here, whereas you are the children. You simply will have to trust my judgment. I see that Mr. Finnigan left you in favor of taking a nap as well."

"He left a few minutes earlier, sir." Gregory said, sorting through his own cards too.

Snape simply nodded and then sat down into the chair beside Longbottom, taking the pieces of parchments Finnigan had left on the table and lifting his eyebrow he turned towards the Gryffindor when the boy looked at him shocked.

"I do hope that your facial muscles still are working as I do need you to explain this game of Potter's to me, Mr. Longbottom." He said with a smirk. It definitely felt good to startle students into a heart attack from time to time.

Previously in twenty-one days

Snape simply nodded and then sat down into the chair beside Longbottom, taking the pieces of parchments Finnigan had left on the table and lifting his eyebrow he turned towards the Gryffindor when the boy looked at him shocked.

"I do hope that your facial muscles still are working as I do need you to explain this game of Potter's to me, Mr. Longbottom." He said with a smirk. It definitely felt good to startle students into a heart attack from time to time.

Chapter ten

Day five

Friday, sixth of September

"Wait a moment, all three of you." Snape said, keeping Potter, Theodore and Draco from entering the kitchen and all three turned towards him. It was unnerving, having the Gryffindor boy standing between the two other boys. Neither Theodore nor Draco was overly large or heavy built, both boys were rather slender, but contrary to those two, Potter looked rather like a small child that was too skinny – as if a first year stood between the two fourth years.

"I understand that both of you, Harry and Theodore, have used the wireless yesterday." He said and both boys nodded at him. "I of course will not forbid you listening to the news as I do know how important it is having some contact to the outside world. I however do not want you taking it seriously what you hear there. I have listened to those reports of – 'the tragedy of Hogwarts' – last night myself to have a clue what is mentioned there, and I only can say, they do not know too much. They only guess and speculate and I do not want you believing their words about how long one can survive in our situation. Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." All three boys answered, nodding their heads and they actually looked sincere.

"Good." He said. "And remember, it might not be too much work there, but I nevertheless want you to work slowly and to take a pause whenever you feel the need to. I do not really know why all of you are so keen about the kitchen duty, but I do not want you to overstress yourselves."

Again all three boy's nodded and he lifted his eyebrow at them for a moment before he too nodded his head in answer to dismiss them, not sure if he should follow them or not.

Not only that he really didn't understand why they were so keen on it, but he too wondered how they had managed to get along so well to a point where they fought about kitchen duty with Potter. Not to mention his own advise. 'I don't want you to overstress yourselves.' Well, that – definitely was no comment he would have said to any student a week ago.

But now, he meant it.

They had to keep their bodies as well as their minds as calm as possible to save energy they needed to survive as long as possible. Well, the day had passed calmly, and he just wanted to keep it this way. The less stress they had, the better it was.

And honestly, the fact that they had taken a nap this afternoon had told him enough about their condition. Fourteen year old teenagers that by free will took a 'nap' – sleeping in the classroom on mats like pre-school children, that surely was not normal and he took it as it was. They were going weak and easily exhausted.

The next step would be that he read them a children's story before they took their nap and that he would hand out cartons of milk while they listened to his story. He actually snorted at that thought. His next position after that would be being a teacher in nursery school.

Well – he just was glad that no other crisis had taken place since Weasley's attack on Potter.

Potter – that boy was another matter and he had to admit – even if reluctantly only – that the boy would fit well into his house. He had misread the boy completely and he only hoped that it wasn't too late. He had promised Harry that he wouldn't have to go back, even if he would have to take the boy in himself, and honestly, after living with him down here since five days now, it wasn't such a horrible thought anymore. He had learned that there was a complete other side to Potter than the one he always had seen and he actually was ready to accept that precise thought, of taking Potter in. He just wasn't sure if the boy trusted him enough to accept his offer.

Another matter was Theodore. He knew that Theodore was abused too and he knew that he had come back to Hogwarts this year in a much worse condition than the years before, even if it wasn't as bad as Harry's. However, he was glad that Harry got along with the other boy as well as he did, because …

Well, he wasn't sure because of what precisely.

He surely didn't imagine taking both boy's into his home, to start a small family with those two boys. He wasn't a father. And he surely didn't imagine Harry and Theodore growing up as brothers, surely not. That would go beyond anything. He would give Potter a home if necessary, if no other solution could be found, but surely the term 'family' was out of question for all of them.

No – he didn't imagine that!

And yet – a small part of him just did imagine this particular situation, as foreign as it felt to him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I don't care, Malfoy." Crabbe growled. "I don't care what you call it, but my son is locked in this dungeon too. And all I do care about right now is my son. His life too is … he too is about to die. He too will be starved to death, and soon if no solution is found."

Goyle, standing beside Crabbe, nodded eagerly with his head, agreeing with his comrade's words. His son too was locked in the potions classroom and his only relief was that Snape was with them. He trusted Snape.

He knew that Snape didn't like him, that Snape took him for an idiot, but he didn't mind. He trusted Snape nevertheless, if someone could get them out alive, then it was Snape.

"Just shut up, Crabbe!" Malfoy's words got him out of his thoughts and he looked at the blond. "My son is down there too." Malfoy hissed impatiently. "It simply didn't go as it had been planned and now we have to find a solution to get them out of there."

'It didn't go as it had been planned' – well, that was the understatement of the year and honestly, he hadn't heard that sentence since a long time now, since the downfall of the Dark Lord, in fact.

And honestly, it always had been Malfoy.

Of course Crabbe and he had been blamed for jobs that had gone wrong all the times, because they all thought that they were stupid and had messed up, but it always had been Malfoy's wrong planning and scheming, because the man always wanted too much. And honestly, overtaking the castle with a handful of Death Eaters – had been a stupid thought, even for him.

"I don't care about the Gryffindors, but if it means to get my son out of there, then, Merlin forbid, I will get them out too." Malfoy continued his rambling. "So just go and do as I told. I want free access to McNair's and Nott's libraries."

"You won't find anything in there, Malfoy." He said, joining into the conversation. "All their books are dark magic, and you can't use dark magic in the castle. Your own library is much larger than theirs and you have books of all sorts."

"Just do as I say and get out of my eyes!" Malfoy screamed at them, and he retreated quickly, Crabbe close behind him. He knew, if Malfoy was in one of his tempers, then it was best to do as he ordered.

"Vence?" He heard Narcissa's low voice the moment they reached the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, followed by a low "Gordon?" and he turned, facing the lady of the house who hurried over to them with a pale face, paler than normally at least.

"Don't worry, Narcissa." He quietly answered her unspoken question. "Severus is with them and he will get them out alive. He will find a way."

"I know." She whispered. "I had my reasons as to why I made Severus Draco's godfather after all and I do trust him with my son's life. But even Severus is not almighty and Lucius is a fool, concentrating onto dark magic only. He won't success using dark magic at Hogwarts. Please, help to get our children out of there."

"I will, Narcissa." He whispered back, placing a calming hand at her arm. "We will, I promise. Don't worry too much. Just prepare everything else we spoke about. And be careful of Lucius, you will be in serious trouble if he gets suspicious."

"I will be careful." She promised, barely keeping her calm facade. "Just do all you can."

"We will." He promised once more before nodding one last time at her and then leaving the manor.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Do you know how the wording 'dear Merlin' came to existence?" Potter asked, his face serious, and snickering Theodore shook his head while he, Draco, leaned against the counter, fighting against his own chuckles.

"It was during one of the greatest battles Merlin ever fought." Potter said, his voice so serious that both, Theodore and he himself couldn't help snickering again. "He was standing atop the hill, overlooking the fields of battle."

Draco heaved himself atop the counter, watching Theodore trying to wash the dishes and Potter – Harry, damn – standing in the middle of the kitchen, the towel around his shoulders like a cloak, playing Merlin. And Merlin! The smaller boy was thin enough so he actually could place the simple towel around his shoulders in the first place! It seemet to be a too small cloak, but it nearly could be compared to one.

"All the way to the North his sharp eyes penetrated the mists that covered the hills of Durham. To the East he could overlook the seas of Norwich where once, centuries ago, his ancestors fought their own battles."

Draco's snickers went into fits of laugher at the smaller boy's serious face and eye-squinting, of the big words, added to Theodore's laugher.

"To the West he could glimpse the white-crested waves thundering against the cliffs of the Isle of Man, and to the South he could observe the mighty warriors battling for the Isle of Wight."

"As if his eyes were so good!" Draco blurted out, trying to catch his breath and holding his belly with laugher.

Potter just gazed at him piercingly, seriously, nearly accusingly, what made him laugh just the harder.

A soft 'thud' caused him to look over to Theodore and he could see the other boy had lost his footing and had landed on his knees, his palms on his thighs to keep his balance while he gasped for breath. Harry shot him an accusing look too before he continued.

"It was to the South Merlin had directed his gaze at, the moment King Arthur approached him and stood by the ancient wizard's side and suddenly Merlin's old and wrinkled face twisted with concern, misery and pain.

'What does have you worried, dear Merlin?' King Arthur asked the old wizard, his face now worried too. 'Do you sense ill foreboding? Are the forces of the evil bringing doom?'

'No, Milord.' Merlin gasped, his face still grimacing in pain and his hands clenched into fists. 'No, the evil forces are not prevailing.'

'Then what is it that ails you, dear Merlin?' The King asked, still worried.

Merlin however hissed out between clenched teeth: 'You are standing on my toes, Milord.'"

Draco curled up into a ball with laugher and he shook his head watching Theodore still sitting on the floor, holding his sides. Never mind what, he had to admit that Potter was funny. The joke itself had been not at all that good, but his serious gazes, his accusing stares at them, and his stern voice were just priceless.

"Hey … would … would you … would you just stop … I'm … I'm going … I'm going to pee." Theodore gasped while trying to somehow catch his breath with laugher, but he didn't really manage.

"Not here, please." Potter, Harry, seriously answered, looking wide-eyed at Theo and his, Draco's, laugher increased too at that innocent green eyes while he wondered how the other boy managed to stay so serious. "Imagine the mess, Theo. Just use the loo instead."

"Can … can't … just shut … shut up." Theo gasped and Potter looked back at him with a gaze that bordered on hurt before he turned and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Ph …" He made. "I won't play with you anymore!"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Coming back to the classroom Theodore and Draco snickered and chuckled, while Potter had a serious face. He however could detect a twitch here and a twist there, while the green eyes sparkled with silent laugher and the Potions Master wondered what had been the cause for that. It wasn't that their situation was overly funny. He however had to admit that he liked this sparkle in the boy's normally so haunted eyes.

Draco was no one who easily laughed openly, but he openly chuckled now, while Theodore nearly had tears in his eyes with laugher he held back. And Potter? He never before had seen the boy with eyes as bright with fun as right now. What in Merlin's name had they been doing in that kitchen?

The other students looked up at them, their faces curious and somehow Theodore wasn't able to keep up his facade any longer and he burst out with laugher – Draco following his example and he lifted his eyebrow at the boys.

Well, Potter kept his face straight, just the muscles around his mouth and eyes twitching again and he could see that the boy took a deep breath to keep himself from laughing too.

What in Merlin's name had they been doing? With what kind of prank would he have to deal now?

"What's up?" Longbottom asked, coming over, followed by Granger and Blaze.

"Nothing." Potter – Harry, answered seriously, his eyes innocent and his face still straight. "Why?"

"Those two are laughing their heads off, and you're looking as if you just had the fun of your life." Blaze said, looking from one to the other.

"I don't know why they're laughing." Harry answered calmly, shrugging his shoulders and Snape wondered how the boy kept his face that straight. He would make a good spy, he had to admit, even if he never would want seeing the boy on this particular path.

"Theo?" Blaze asked, turning to the other two who laughed just the harder at Harry's words. "Draco? What happened?"

"Potter happened!" Draco gasped, leaning with his right onto the desks that still stood in the middle of the room while his left pointed towards the black haired teenager.

"Me?" Said boy asked innocently, his sparkling eyes growing large. "I didn't do anything!" He said.

Well, it didn't help Theodore who fell onto one of the mattresses, holding his midsection with laugher and Harry's next words didn't help the situation at all.

"I'm innocent!" The boy called out, his eyes still large and his face still seriously. Snape couldn't help snorting with disbelieve at those words, causing the boy to turn towards him, looking at him with the same innocent large eyes.

"Really, sir!"

Well, this – as it seemed – had been the last straw and Draco too went to the floor, leaning with his back against the leg of the desk, gasping for breath and with his shoulders shaking with silent laugher.

"Merlin!" Snape goaned out, turned and left the classroom, went into his office just the moment Potter too burst into a fit of laugher while the other students looked at the three of them, not understanding what exactly had them acting in such a strange way.

Silly children!

He didn't admit, not even to himself, that he'd just had to turn so the crowd of teenagers didn't see his lips curling into an amused smirk.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Theodore, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, come with me, please." He said upon returning to the classroom after he had calmed down and was sure that his face would be its serious self and not traitorously grinning, and then he turned and led them towards the laboratory and their cauldrons.

"Your potions are resting, and so you should not stir them or touch them." He explained. "But you nevertheless should check them before leaving them alone during the night. The potions should be clear now, with a hint of silver, and it should smell of honey and peppermint."

Harry looked at him, his brows furrowed, and he looked as if he didn't understand – what surely was the fact as none of the ingredients contained peppermint in any way, form or shape. The others too looked curiously.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" He asked, coming over towards the boy.

"Uhm … well … sorry, sir, but … peppermint?" The teenager asked. "There is nothing in this potion that would contain peppermint."

"You are quite right, Mr. Potter." He said. "What is the only ingredient that has absolutely no use in a potion such as this?"

"The crushed echinus roots." Came the immediate answer that suggested that the brat already had wondered why this particular ingredient was in a nutrient potion in the first place. He just wasn't sure when exactly the boy had wondered about that - during his holidays while starving and needing information? Or during brewing the potion earlier?

"Correct, Harry." Snape said, leaning close, the boy's given name still foreign on his tongue, but he kept his gaze steadily at the teen in front of him. "I wonder however, if you do know that this is the only useless ingredient in this potion, why did you not ask for the reason of its presence earlier?"

"Well, I thought it would have one reason or another, sir." The teenage boy answered.

"But you didn't know what reason." Snape lifted his eyebrow at the brat.

"No, sir." Came the answer and it sounded definitely apologetic.

"So, why did you not ask?" The Potions Master inquired.

"I didn't think of it." It was only a whisper, but - well, he was sure that the boy actually had thought of asking, but that he simply had not dared to ask, and suddenly he understood. He had been so busy making the boy's potions lessons a living hell throughout the past three years, that he never had stopped to really looking into the boy's work.

Harry always had handed in passable essays. His work with the knife too had been rather sure handed and acceptable – as had been the stirring and handling the heat when it came to brewing the potions themselves. What mostly had messed up the boy's potions had been ingredients that had not belonged into them or their measuring being incorrect and he suddenly wondered why.

This morning the boy had answered his questions correctly, hesitantly and frightened a bit, yes, but correctly. His potion too had come out correct up to now. And Potter had been able to name him the only useless ingredient in the potion. So, the boy actually was capable of brewing a decent potino but with his actions during the child's first potions classes he mayby had ensured that Harry had lost his interest in the subject and in asking questions, probably was simply too scared of him now for doing so.

"If you now add two and two together, to what conclusion do you come then?" He asked calmly. He would have to remedy that. He would have to awake the boy's interest anew. And he would manage, he promised himself.

"Well, the echinus root itself doesn't smell like peppermint, nor should the potion." Harry slowly answered. "And so, I guess, that the only useless ingredient, the echinus root, is causing this effect while mixed to the other ingredients, sir. Whatever reason for."

"That is correct, Harry." Snape nodded satisfied. "That will be two points to you. The reason however is, that the echinus roots, if crushed and added to the potion after being heated and completed, are reacting to the vitamins that are in the dry chemicals. Why?"

"So it doesn't taste like old socks for a change?" Potter said before realizing what he had said and his face turned beet red. "Uhm … well … sorry, sir … I mean …"

"That – is the exact reason, Harry." Snape answered, holding up his hand to stop the brat from making a fool out of himself. If Potter was comfortable enough around him now to joke, then be it, and strangely – it actually meant something to him, even if he didn't really dare considering what exactly this something was.

"Nutrient potions are made for people suffering from serious eating disorders – what ever reasons for this disorder presented itself in the first place." He explained. "And considering that people with eating disorders have enough problems at their hands to begin with, a potion that concerns nutrients and is taken regularly in order to keep those people alive, should not taste like – old socks, as Mr. Potter so eloquently put it."

He turned towards Weasley's cauldron and gazed inside, intently, while breathing in the fumes and then he nodded, walking towards Miss Granger's cauldron.

"Why the smell of honey, Miss Granger, as no honey either is in the …"

A short hiss and a bright, blinding light caused him to abruptly stop midsentence and to wheel around, and two steps were all it took him to reach Potter who was laying on the floor, curled up into a small ball, while at the same time he reached into the pocket of his robes and he took out a small vial.

He had known this might happen, damn, but honestly, while just checking the potion? He had thought it could happen during the brewing itself, but surely not while simply checking them, and honestly, that had been the reason as to why he had been so reluctant to let the students brew this one in the first place. It was a potion easy to make, but if made a mistake, it could be deathly.

Uncorking the vial and kneeling down on one knee beside the boy Snape stretched out his hand and touched Harry's chin, turned his head and he actually had to force himself to keep his hands steady, cursing inwardly. His hands barely trembled. But seeing one of his students laying on the ground, curled up into a small ball and whimpering with pain, he actually remembered why he had been so reluctant in the first place – and his hands did tremble.

Forcing himself to keep a clear mind he forced the boy's mouth open and poured the potion down the teen's throat, ignoring the small sounds of protest and distress the boy made the moment the potion came in contact with his throat when he forced him to swallow the blue liquid and he waited for the lines around Potter's eyes and mouth to relax, but they only tightened and he frowned.

The potion should have helped immediately, but the teen that had to force air into his lungs more and more, had difficulty with this simple task of breathing.

"A pain reliever, Theodore." He ordered. "A healing potion and a calming draught."

Theodore, knowing what was needed and where to look for it, immediately reacted and Snape wondered why it always was Potter he had underneath his hands recently, while he tried – not without an edge of desperation leaking into his voice – to somehow calm said boy.

"Breathe slowly, Potter." He said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "The slower you breathe, the less it will hurt. I know that it is difficult, but you have to take slow breathes. Oh, no, Potter! You won't!" He ordered the moment he realized that the boy started to panic. "You won't panic now! You just will take slow and calm breathes and you will be fine."

He could hear the teenager wheezing as Potter was trying to breathe and he shifted his position so he was able to prop him up a little to ease his distress.

The moment Theodore came back with the vials of potions he knew would help the boy in his arms, he nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hush now, Potter." He said, forcing the boy's mouth open, and ignoring the boy's struggles and distressed whimpers he forced the healing potion down the teen's throat, massaging the delicate throat and thus forced the boy to swallow.

"That's a potion for healing. I have one for the pain here too." He said, trying to sound reassuringly. "Just swallow it. I know it hurts, but you have to swallow."

Opening the first two buttons of the teen's shirt Snape focused once more on the boy, watching the slow and painfully irregular rising and falling of the thin chest, and he reassured himself that Lily's child – damn, that his child – was still alive and would - Merlin willing – recover.

"Oh, no! You won't Potter!" He again growled darkly the moment he noticed that the boy was about to fall unconscious. "You won't sleep now! I need to give you some more potions and you won't fall asleep before I say you can! You will have detention until the rest of your life if you fall asleep now!"

The moment he noticed that the boy had swallowed the healing potion completely, he uncorked the next vial and poured the pain reliever down the teen's throat, again massaging the delicate throat to force the boy to swallow the liquid, and again he waited for the wrinkles around the child's eyes and mouth to disappear, but they only lessened.

Well, it was better than nothing at least, and he repeated the same procedure with the calming draught and finally he reached a state of mind where he knew that he could deal with it. He knew, if the boy just stayed awake for a bit longer, then things would be going to be alright.

Unconsciously the older man reached out and very gently he touched Harry's face to get him to respond, to get his attention, and he began to softly run his hand through the soft raven hair, trying to comfort the child while he ignored the soft murmur of voices in the background.

"Potter!" He growled darkly, startling the boy that started to lose consciousness again. "What did I say about following my directions! I will not tolerate your disobedience!" He hated using that voice with the already sick boy, but he could tell that it worked and Potter was pulling himself together once more, forcing himself to stay awake.

"That's better, Potter!" He growled and he shifted the boy so that he was lying with his head in the middle of his, Snape's, chest, directly over his beating heart. The child still had his eyes closed and his palms pressed against them. Gently he took the small wrists and pulled them away from the boy's eyes while at the same time he placed his hand over the boy's eyes to shield them from the bright torchlight down here in the laboratory.

The next few minutes were rather tense. It was silent, no one talked and the only sounds they could hear were Harry's rattling breathes, the boy trying to stifle his painful sobs and Snape whispering to him reassuringly while he tried to make him drink a few sips of plain water.

Just when Potter's breathing finally had calmed down to steady breathes he placed his free hand onto the boy's forehead to press his head against his chest and he slowly took his hand away from Potter's eyes, kept it just in front of them to keep the boy's eyes in the shadows if necessary.

"Okay Harry." Snape said gently increasing the pressure he had on the boy's forehead so he couldn't squirm his head away. "You can open your eyes now, slowly."

Well, if he had thought that it would be so easy, then he had thought wrongly. Of course it wouldn't be easy. Nothing ever was easy when it came to Potter, was it now?

"Come on, Potter, open your eyes, you can't keep them close forever." He said, easily slipping into his role as a teacher and head of the house of Slytherin. "Come on, boy. Just open them slowly. I have my hand in front of …"

"Hurt." The boy croaked out, followed by a pained gasp.

"Your eyes hurt?" Snape asked, forcing himself to keep his frustration out of his voice.

Potter simply nodded, a movement however that seemed to be just as painful as talking and he stilled his head quickly.

"You have been standing closest to the exploding cauldron and while the fumes had burned your throat and probably your lungs, your eyes had been blinded by the bright light." He said while gently placing his hand back against Potter's eyes, not really touching the lids but the boy's eyebrows, giving him a sense of security. "It will stop hurting soon. I have my hand back on your eyes. Just try to open them underneath my hand. Come on, now, open them. That's a good boy. Good. Can you see anything?" He asked upon feeling the boy's eyelashes moving against his palm and that for knowing that Harry finally had opened his eyes. He was feeling nearly anxious and he breathed a sigh of relief the moment Potter nodded again. Barely, hesitantly, but he nodded.

"Very good." He whispered. The brat could breathe, the brat could see, and the rest, they would be able to deal with.

"Now up with you." He said and pulling the boy to his feet he led him out of the laboratory and back into the classroom, his free hand still shielding the boy's eyes.

Draco was looking up at them, the moment they entered the classroom and he quickly came over, taking Potter's other arm, causing him to flinch with the action, and he quickly released the Gryffindor.

"What happened?" He asked startled while the Potions Master gently but firmly forced Potter onto his mattress.

"Look after him." He ordered, ignoring the boy's question. "I will be back in ten minutes."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Wondering how Potter had managed to get his potion exploded by simply checking it, Draco sat down beside the Gryffindor, ignoring the fact that he was sitting at Weasley's mattress, who was scowling at him angrily because of it, and ignoring Granger hovering on Potter's other side.

"Want a cold cloth for your eyes, Potter?" He asked and at the boy's nod Theodore immediately went over to the sink and took one of the old cleaning rags, wetting it with cold water and then brought it back. Getting the cloth onto the other boy's eyes was not as easy however as Potter pressed his palms to them and it took Draco three attempts to pull his hands away. The moment the cold cloth was on the black haired boy's eyes he had his hands back atop the cloth, pressing it against them.

Snape meanwhile was cleaning away the remnants of the exploded potion, also wondering how in Merlin's name Harry had managed to get it exploded in the first place and the only thought that came to his mind was – the boy had stirred the potion in order to test the substance, and he was cursing under his breath. He was angry. Angry at Harry for stirring the potion after he had told them to not touch it, angry at himself for allowing them to brew the potion in the first place, angry at the situation itself and angry at anything else that came to his mind. This damn, stupid boy could be death, for Merlin's sake!

Checking the other potions and making sure that they were still alright he took Potter's cauldron to place it into the sink and he froze mid-step the moment his gaze fell into the cauldron.

There wasn't a drop of the potion left inside, but a small black object caught his eyes and he immediately recognized a battery beetle's eye.

Looking back at the place where the cauldron had been placed over the fire and looking at the cupboard with the potions ingredients, and then adding two and two together he came to the correct conclusion. Growling angrily he placed the cauldron into the sink and then made his way back to the classroom to look at the smallest of his charges.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Upon entering the classroom Snape immediately took in the scene with one look of his dark eyes.

Draco was sitting on Weasley's mattress and beside Potter, Theodore was on the smaller Gryffindor's other side, together with Longbottom and Finnigan. Weasley was standing a few steps aside and scowling at Draco who was sitting on his mattress and Granger stood beside him, together with Thomas, asking questions without getting answers. The rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins were hovering in small groups around the scene, discussing what might have happened, their faces startled, frightened and unsure, and he knew that he would have to be careful if he wanted to avoid them all going into a panic attack.

Right now he needed to be calm and his usual self, he needed to keep the upper hand.

"Mr. Zabini, go to the cupboard and take out the seventh year's potions books." He ordered strictly while striding towards the sink and taking a cup from the shelf, pouring warm tea from the mantelpiece into it. "Hand them out to everyone except for Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy. Everyone else, take a seat at the desks and start reading chapter one, 'Potions, their uses and their dangers'. There will be a discussion about the chapter tomorrow morning. Everyone not finished reading within the next two hours will write a three feet essay on the chapter. Start! Now!"

He went towards the mattresses with the cup and knelt beside Potter, looking the boy over closely.

The damage was lessened as good as possible, he noticed, and either Theodore or Draco had placed a wet cloth over the boy's eyes, but the pain was still there, as – most probably – was the shock, and the boy was shaking horribly now.

"I have a cup of tea here, Harry." He calmly said, gently pulling one of Harry's hands from his eyes and he actually had to help the boy wrapping his fingers around the cup. And still – the boy's hands were shaking that badly that he would have spilled its contents, had the Potions Master not wrapped his own larger hand around the child's in order to steady it.

"Does your eyes still hurt, Harry?" He asked gently and the boy again nodded.

"Headache." Came a rough whisper from the boy and he reached the cup towards Draco who took it immediately.

"That had to be expected." He said, gently pulling the boy's other hand and the cool cloth away from his eyes. "I need to have a look at your eyes. Open them. Slowly."

Well, the boy did, a fraction, before quickly pressing them shut again with a sharp hiss of pain and he was not sure if it was because of the movement itself or because of the light blinding him.

"Open them, Potter! Now!" He ordered, again feeling sorry about using such a harsh tone with the boy that definitely was in a mixture of shock, fear and pain, but he simply had to know if there was more damage than he had thought originally. He wasn't able to use a diagnostic spell as still no magic worked down here, and so he had to retreat to using simple muggle ways for examining the boy.

"Hurts." Came the next raspy comment and he gritted his teeth for a moment.

"I know, Potter." He said, forcing himself to not sound worried or upset. "I need them open for a moment nevertheless. Now, Potter, if you don't want to find yourself in detention for the rest of your stay here."

A short humorless laugh followed by a series of rough coughs that had him worried even more, but the teen again pried his eyes open while gritting his teeth, his hands curled into fists.

"That's it." Snape growled gently. "Now follow my finger with your eyes."

"Uhm … what finger?" The boy asked, his brows furrowed in concentration, or worry, or pain, he didn't know and he himself frowned.

"You claimed you can see, earlier when I asked you." Snape said, grabbing the boy's chin and turning his head, searching the boy's green and unfocused eyes with his own dark ones.

"Only light." Potter answered and he sighed. That was not what he had hoped for and the only thing he could do was to wait, as it seemed.

Placing a calming hand on the boy's shoulder he felt eyes on him and he looked up, just to see Ronald Weasley watching him and he watched back at him with what his Slytherins called his best 'Death Eater glare'.

"You better do not move an inch while reading." He said in his darkest growl, ignoring Potter flinching at his tone. He would have to make sure the boy knew whom he was talking to as long as Potter wasn't able to see him if he didn't want the boy startled out of his pants. "And you better leave Mr. Potter alone Mr. Weasley, if you do not want to find yourself in detention for not only the rest of your stay down here, but until after you even have graduated. This here – does not really bode well for you."

Lowering his eyes back at the boy in front of him he sighed and taking the cup back from Draco he helped the young Gryffindor to drink a few more sips of the warm tea.

"It will be best if you close your eyes, Potter." He gently said. "Try to sleep. I will be checking on you during the night, and tomorrow morning we will know more, I hope."

Watching the boy hiss in pain at the movement of closing his eyes he knew that it not necessarily was the light that caused the pain. He just didn't know if this was the better option or not.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He didn't dare leaving the classroom tonight and so he was sitting at his desk, dozing every now and then between checking on the boy, just as he had promised, and more than once he found himself dozing while sitting on the floor beside the boy's mattress. Potter's sleep was rather restless and he knew that not only the child's usual nightmares were plaguing him, but restlessness and pain caused by his damaged throat and lungs and his injured eyes too.

All in all together, it had not been a day that he would like to repeat and he only hoped that Harry would recover completely while he found his hands unconsciously carding through the boy's messy hair every now and then – yet, he didn't really mind and he even found himself smiling at that thought.

"What have you done to me, child?" He whispered.

"You're not the only one he hexed, sir." He heard Theodore whisper.

Well, he should have known that the boy would be awake. He too had not been able to use the dreamless sleep potion tonight.

"Sleep, you impertinent brat." He growled at the other boy, but again a small smile threatened to tug at the corner of his mouth.

Well, rationally considered - he could be pleased with the day – a little bit at least.

Potter had survived a potions accident that could have been deathly. He had managed to keep the entire class from panicking and he had learned that he actually – liked the brat.

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.

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.

Previously in twenty-one days

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.

Chapter twelve

Day six

Saturday, seventh of September

"Poppy!" Molly Weasley yelped when the medi-witch's head appeared in the fire place and she jumped startled, her eyes frightened on the green flames with the face sitting in them, fearing the worst. She always feared the worst these days, feared the next news might be that her son had been found dead. "Poppy! Is Ron …" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

"Calm down, Molly." Poppy said, her eyes worried on the normally so calm and resolute witch that right now was a nervous wreck – just as was each and every mother that had a child down in those dungeons. Even Narcissa Malfoy had visited her twice since September the second, asking for news, any news, asking for Draco's chances, and the woman had offered the headmaster free access to her library. Of course Albus couldn't march into Malfoy Manor, but Narcissa had promised that he just would have to name a title and she would bring him the book.

"I don't fire-call you because of your youngest son, Molly, but because of your daughter." She said, trying to sound calm. It wouldn't do if she got Molly even more nervous.

"What is with Ginny?" Molly asked frightened – so much for not getting Molly even more nervous than she already was.

"If you just floo over, please." She sighed. "I don't want to discuss this on the floo."

She got her head off the floo and stepped aside so Molly could come through, taking a calming potion from her stocks – just in case.

"What's wrong with Ginny, Poppy?" Molly asked the moment she had stepped through, her face pale, drawn and frightened, brushing off the sooth from her robes, a fact that told Poppy enough. Molly normally was a witch capable of stepping through the floo without having her clothes coated in sooth, something not everyone managed. But Molly normally did.

"Ginny is as fine as one can be in this situation, Molly, don't worry too much." Poppy tried to reassure her old friend. "I just think that maybe it is not the wisest move to keep her here at Hogwarts right now. She is a nervous wreck, just like everyone else, but as she has a brother down in the dungeons, she is a bit worse than most of the other children. I think it best you take her home, Molly. She isn't in a position to concentrate on classes too much anyway right now and she belongs with her parents right now."

"Of course!" Molly immediately agreed, most probably glad to have at least her daughter safely at home and with her.

"You will have trouble getting her to sleep and to eat as much as she should, Molly." Poppy said, trying to get the warning through to the mother without startling her. "She is too worried to do so by herself. I will give you a few vials of nutrient potion however and I want to see her once a week."

"Of course, Poppy." Molly agreed. "Do you have any news about Ron? And the others?"

"No, there is no way to predict anything, Molly, and I won't start doing so either. I suggest that you keep Ginny busy and her mind off her brother by learning. It only can do her good to continue with her lessons and if the break she right now needs will be too long, she won't be behind the others too much in the end. Maybe that way she will even be able to do her end of term exams even with this break."

'Not to mention that it will do you some good having your daughter around you.' Poppy thought but wisely kept this for her self.

At this Molly looked at her startled. As it seemed she hadn't thought about that. Well, the woman had a son locked in the dungeons since six days now, without food, so of course she hadn't thought about educational matters concerning her children.

"And what if not?" The woman asked.

"Then she simply will repeat her third year, Molly, stop worrying."

"But – they won't be down there for so long, Poppy, will they?" Molly looked at her, still startled. "They wouldn't survive for much longer! They surely … Poppy! … they …"

"Calm down, Molly!" Poppy said, handing the other witch the vial with the calming potion. She had known that Molly would work herself into a panic. "They will be fine in the end, Molly. We have to believe in that or we can give up hope right now. Take that potion. The headmaster surely will find a way soon. Everyone is searching for a way down into the dungeons."

"You will inform me as soon as …" Molly started the moment she had taken the potion and it had taken effect. Nevertheless she again was not able to finish her sentence.

"Of course I will, Molly." Poppy said. "Never mind what the outcome will be, I will inform you at once. And now I suggest that you go to Minerva, Ginny is waiting for you in her office. I think, right now not even Minerva wants to keep one of her lions being alone in the Gryffindor common room."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You said … I mean, you said that it was a bond … but, I mean … you surely can't …" Leaning forwards, the boy's body language screaming frustration and shaking his head Harry once again was biting his lower lip, and Snape actually had to force himself to keep his hand still before the wayward thing could tug at that lip to pull it out between the boy's teeth. "See, Professor. I understand that you said I won't have to go back there. And I even understand that you said you would take me if no one else would do so. But I only would be your ward and … and nothing more. I don't know why a bond would form if I only … I mean …" The boy suddenly stood, tears bright in his squinting eyes, but Snape knew that they were not from happiness.

"I mean, do you … do you even want me?" He then choked out. His arms unconsciously had gone around his torso, hugging himself in his confusion, or in his fear over being rejected or taken in only because someone had to. "I mean really want me? Not only because …"

"Want you?" Severus Snape eased himself off the armchair he was sitting in and took a step towards the child. He gently enclosed the boy in his arms. He would show him that there was no need to hug his own arms around himself. He would show him that he would get comfort from him as an adult whenever he needed it. "Of course I do, you silly child." He said, allowing the child to sob into his shirt and quietly tried to reassure the teenager. "Or did I ever give away the impression that I did things I do not want to at a regular basis? If you remember correctly, then it was me who made the offer in the first place. I have not been asked doing this, I offered this by my own free will." Slowly he ran his hand over the raven head, waiting for Harry to calm down.

"But … but I … I still don't understand it … I just feel like … everything has been turned over so many times since … and somehow …" The boy tightened the grip he had on his shirt when Snape pulled back a bit to look down at the child in his arms, wondering why he still didn't mind holding that irritating Gryffindor in his arms and wondering why he still didn't mind that irritating Gryffindor clinging to him like a limpet.

"Look at me, Harry." He commanded and the boy raised his head, squinting his eyes while trying to look into the black eyes that right now showed concern for him.

"I do want you, child." Snape then said. "I know that you do not understand it right now, but I do want you and it is not important that you understand. I only ask you to accept the offer. You will understand later, when you are older maybe, or when we have gotten to know each other better, I do not know. I do not understand it fully by myself yet. But what I do know is, that I do want you, as much as this thought causes me a headache."

The Potions Master pulled the boy back into his arms and they stayed like that for some time longer, the man running his hand through the unruly black hair, wondering why he didn't mind doing so, why he felt comforted by this small gesture by his own, and the child still quietly sobbing into his shirt.

"Are you feeling better, child?" Snape asked when he noticed that the boy's sobbing had lessened.

"Does that mean …" The child hiccupped, nodding. "I mean, does that mean … I can stay with you? I mean … not only as a ward that had no other place?"

With a sigh Snape noticed that the boy probably had pulled all his courage together for asking this question, but that he probably just couldn't keep up his mask for now, that he simply had to know, and he looked down at the child.

Why not? He asked himself. Why not making it permanently? Why not making it a bond that went deeper than the one between a guardian and his ward? He was ready for this, as seemed the boy. The seconds ticked away while he watched the child, each second emphasized by the low ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner.

Harry closed his eyes, close to tears again. If only Snape would answer finally, even if it was with a no. Anything but this deafening silence that quickly shredded his nerves to tiny pieces would be fine.

"Staying with me?" Snape finally spoke and he was surprised at how gentle his own voice sounded, surprised at how at ease he felt suddenly, and surprised at how needy this child in his arms seemed to be, hungry not only because of the lack of food he suffered from, but hungry, starving, for affection, for human comfort, for …

"Staying with me as not only my ward? But staying with me as my son? Are you really ready to be the son of a grumpy, old Potions Master? Are you really ready to be the son of the dungeons bat? With all the consequences?"

There was no answer, only the boy returning to sobbing just the more into his shirt, and he sighed. Yes, he was ready, as was the boy as it seemed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Do you think he's alright?"

"I can't imagine. You know how he is with food."

"Or the lack of food, you surely meant."

"Or the lack of food, yes."

There were a few moments of silence between the two Weasley twins. But then –

"Do you think Ginny is alright at home?"

"She's with mum and dad, so yes."

"I wouldn't want to be at home right now. I want to be here when …"

"Yes, me too."

Another few moments of silence were between them. Then -

"Do you think Ron will survive?"

"Snape's with them. If someone will be able to keep them alive, then it's Snape."

"Yes. Do you remember when he caught us in his classroom last year?"

"Jap. I thought our last hour had come."

"Me too."

Again there were a few moments of silence. Then –

"He always kept us safe."

"That he did."

"Even if we annoyed the hell out of him."

"And we've been good at that."

"That we were."

"I'll go down to the dungeons and apologize to him personally if he brings Ron out of this alive."

"Me too."

More moments of silence between the twins followed. Then-

"And he's good at that, keeping us alive."

"That he is. He'll keep Ron alive too."

"Even if our dear brother annoys the hell out of him."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I'm sorry, sir." Harry finally managed to say. "I've never cried so much without a good reason."

"You had a good reason, child." Snape answered, shoving the child away a bit again so he was able to look the boy over. "Are you ready to go back to the classroom? I believe the potion that might help your eyes is finished and I would like to have you safe on your mattress rather than here on the sofa then. It might be that you will fall asleep after I administered it."

The truth was that he wasn't ready to leave the boy alone right now, that he wanted to have the boy in his presence right now, but at the same time he knew that he had to have a look at the others too, even if most of them had been laying down to take a nap.

"Alright." The boy said, untangling himself from his arms, his pale face blushing for a moment.

"Keep your eyes closed." Snape growled. "In the classroom the candles and torches are all burning. I will lead you." He too stood and started to lead the boy towards the door. He however paused for another moment increasing the grip he had on Harry's shoulder to keep him from walking on.

"And Harry." He started, looking down at the teen. "Truly think it over. If you mean it, if you really are ready to be the evil dungeon bat's son, if you really want this, with all the consequences, then I am ready to brew a special potion to make it permanently, to make it true. But for this potion, you will have to be absolutely sure, and you will have to be ready for this – or it wouldn't work."

"I am already sure." The boy quietly said. "To have someone who cares was all I ever wanted. To have a family is all I ever wanted. And you do. Care, I mean. You have already given me more than aunt Petunia ever had. I trust you."

He stood there, his eyes on the boy that looked sincere, but then he gave a curt nod and continued leading him towards the classroom, more stiffly than before to cover his own confusing emotions. The boy had given him his answer, and an answer that was – reasonable and genuine. The boy had clearly stated what he wanted, what he needed, probably for the first time in his life had he told an adult what he wanted, what he needed.

The classroom was quiet upon their return. Most of the students were still sleeping, Longbottom … Neville, for Merlin's sake … just waking up at the moment they entered.

"Good morning, Mr. Longbottom." Snape drawled, leading Harry towards his mattress. "Do me the favour and watch over your friend for a moment while I get the potion needed for his eyesight."

He sharply turned on the spot the moment he had the boy sitting safely on the mattress and went into the laboratory.

He took the small cauldron he had needed for brewing this special potion from the stove and dipping his finger into the dark blue liquid he tested its colour, its consistence, how it smelled, and finally how it tasted. Only then he tilted the cauldron and filled some of it into a vial with a pipette.

He hesitated for a moment before going back into the classroom where Harry waited for him, doubt suddenly gripping him for a moment. Had he really done the right thing? Promising the boy a home? And a family? Would he even be able to really care for the child? Forever? However long forever would be? Would he be able to give the boy all that he needed? Would he … and what if the boy died? If he now claimed him as his son, if he really brewed the potion and adopted him, what would happen if the boy died? Would he be able to handle the boy's death if he …

Well, it didn't matter.

The bonding already had started and if the boy died, he would feel the same, never mind if he had adopted him or not. And it didn't matter if he was unsure or not, because he knew that he was ready. He was ready to acknowledge that child as his son. No one wanted this child, so he would claim him as his.

His son. For a moment the thought startled him, but it was gone as soon as his doubts had been gone.

The child had no one and he was ready to take him.

The child had no one and he was ready to be taken by him.

Finally turning he went back to the classroom, casting his gaze once more over the area. Vincent was awake too meanwhile, sitting beside Harry, and for a moment he narrowed his eyes at them. He didn't think that Vincent would harm the smaller Gryffindor, but he knew the animosity between them, and he feared for a moment that the situation might go out of hands. But then he huffed – as if the situation itself wasn't already out of hands.

He dropped onto one knee in front of the boy he was about to take as his son, piercing him with his dark eyes for a moment, but then he lifted his hand and placed it onto the bony shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"I think it would be wise if you laid down for this, Harry." He said, turning the boy until he sat with his back towards him and then pulling the boy's upper body down until he lay with his head in his lap. "I want you to keep your eyes close, I will open them to administer the potion. Just try to relax. The potion won't hurt. It has cooled down, but it won't be cold. I will administer one drop of it into each eye."

The boy nodded, his muscles still tense, not able to relax and he could feel the fear radiating off the child. He didn't want to have the child so frightened, he didn't want to cause him such fear, and he didn't want to … well, it had to be done, and gritting his teeth he reached out to open the boy's left eye with his thumb and forefinger, ignoring the startled flinch, ignoring the boy's muscles tensing even more, and he let a drop of the potion fall from the pipette and into the boy's eyes.

A startled cry from the child made him releasing Harry's eyelid and placing his cool hand over the now tightly shut eye.

"Hush, child." He quietly said, running his thumb over the boy's brow. "Breathe. Just release your breath and try to relax."

Well, the boy did, slowly releasing the breath he had been holding before taking another shuddering breath and holding it for a moment before releasing that one too.

He opened the boy's other eye, knowing that the sooner they got this over with, the sooner the boy would feel better and he quickly let another drop fall into this eye too, his teeth still gritted and then placing his hand over this eye too for a moment when the boy shut it tightly after once more giving a startled yelp away.

"Alright, child." He whispered, not able to keep his traitorous thumb from running over the boy's brow, noticing the slight film of perspiration that meanwhile covered the pale face. "It is over, child. Just release your breath once more and try to relax. You will be quite fine. We are finished here."

He watched Harry releasing his breath, taking a few more shuddering breathes before his breathing finally settled into a calm and easy one.

"That's it, child." He said, his traitorous thumb still running over Harry's brow. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, sir." The boy said, his voice indicating otherwise just as did his entire tense body.

"I beg to differ, child." Snape said, concern still audible in his voice. The boy's pale face still was covered in this fine film of perspiration and even if calm, he could see that the boy forced his breathing this way. He noticed that the boy's hands still were clenched into fists and the teen still pressed his eyes shut tightly.

"I want you to keep your eyes closed for a few moments longer." He said, taking the wet cloth Theodore just now reached him and he nodded his thanks towards the other boy before running the cold cloth over Harry's face, wiping away the perspiration. "Are you in pain?"

"No." The boy quietly answered and he could hear the fear still lingering in the child's voice. "I was just startled."

"Alright." He said, accepting the answer for now. "Are you tired? Sleepy?"

"No." The boy repeated. "Just dizzy … sort of."

"Your eyes as well as your ears are organs you need for your sense of balance and any foreign particle in them can cause your sense of balance to be disturbed momentarily, causing dizziness." He explained, trying to sound comforting. "It will cease in a few minutes."

Harry just wordlessly nodded at him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Albus!" Filius' voice called through the corridor and he stopped and turned around to the smaller teacher that was running towards him. "Albus!"

"What is it, Filius?" He asked, startled, frightened that something might have happened. He hadn't seen Filius in such a state since … well, he actually hadn't seen the man in such a state ever before.

"The dungeons!" Filius gasped out the moment he had reached him. "The wards have changed. We have to go to the dungeons!"

Quickly and without asking any questions Albus turned and followed the smaller professor down into the dungeons, drawing his wand while he did so. Might it really be that the wards had been undone? If there was a change in the wards, then he should have felt it. But then – even if he was the headmaster, Filius was a master when it came to wards. So if anyone besides of him could feel the wards of the castle changing, then it was the charms teacher.

Concentrating onto the castle he had a deep bond with, he for a moment stopped in his hurried steps.

Yes – there indeed was a change. The castle itself felt different. It wasn't the carefully guarded awareness coming from the castle he had felt for such a long time, since he was headmaster of Hogwarts. And it wasn't the gloomy and frustrated self-blame he had felt coming from the castle since the dungeons had been sealed off hermetically either.

It was … he couldn't describe it. It was a strange feeling, nearly a real emotion coming from the castle, deeper than the carefully guarded awareness he barely had felt as a presence in the back of his own awareness over the years. But try it as he might, he just couldn't place a name to it.

But whatever it was – the wards had changed, and maybe … just maybe they would be able to get them down, to enter the dungeons, to get them out of there, and maybe before it was too late.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

His stomach pulsated for a moment and his muscles cramped with a sharp flash of pain but Harry had grown oddly used to it by now. He actually was used to it since many years. But it was stronger this time, the pain in his muscles and in his stomach causing him to nearly gasp and he just couldn't relax. It just was impossible.

He knew that it wasn't from the potion. He knew that feeling and he knew that it simply was hunger he felt. But that didn't make it any better. In the contrary, it seemed to get worse with each minute that passed and he finally tried to roll onto his side, to curl into a small ball, hoping that it would help with the pain.

"Harry?" Snape gently asked the moment he noticed that the boy's condition didn't get any better but seemed to get worse only. "Child?"

The boy tried to roll onto his side, probably in the attempt to curl into a ball to ease the pain he seemed to be in and he placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, keeping him from doing so while he shifted his own position so the boy's head would rest more comfortably and more safely in his lap.

"What is wrong, child?" He asked.

"Hurts." The boy answered, forced out between gritted teeth, still trying to roll over onto his side, and his hands grasping the shirt over his stomach in tight fists.

Hunger. Snape thought, gritting his own teeth and breathing out a deep sigh of frustration. He couldn't do much against this, aside from a few potions that would help for now. But they wouldn't help forever.

"A glass of water, Theodore, a muscle relaxing potion and a nutrient potion please." He quietly asked of the boy, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Your muscles are cramping, because of the lack of food." He softly explained, still restraining the boy that had started to lock his muscles, pulling him closer into his lap so he had a better grip at the painfully thin body. "Your metabolism has started to shut down long ago, and your body has started to take energy from your muscle mass in order to keep you alive at all. I cannot do much against that. I will start giving you the nutrient potion in order to get your body some kind of energy. That way it will cease taking the energy from your muscles, somewhat at least. And for now I will give you a muscle relaxing potion. That will help against the pain. I do not wish to set you on pain reliever right now, but I will do so if we are not able to keep the pain under control."

"Professor?" Came Theodore's frightened voice from beside him and he turned, looking the boy over. Well, Theodore might be one of his abused children, but he never before had been hungry to such an extent. He always had gotten food at least once a day. And seeing the small Gryffindor in such a state, the boy simply was frightened.

"Thank you, Theodore." He said, taking the nutrient potion first and turning back to the cramping child in his lap. "Open up now, child. It is the nutrient potion. And don't you dare complaining that it tastes of old socks."

The boy didn't fall for his joke, but he hadn't thought he would anyway, so he simply tipped the small bottle and poured the potion into the boy's mouth, seeing that the child wouldn't release the shirt over his stomach he had gripped in his fists anytime soon.

"Just swallow it, Harry." He ordered, watching the boy trying to get the syrupy potion down, watching him needing a few attempts until he finally had managed before he poured the remaining potion into the boy's mouth as well.

"That's it, child." He said, running his hand over the child's face for a moment. "The muscle relaxing potion will be next." He said, placing that vial too at the boy's lips and carefully tipping it. "It will help within the minute. You will feel better in a moment." He watched the boy swallowing this potion too while he started massaging the thin upper arms, trying to loosen what little muscles were there.

"That's it, child." He repeated the moment Harry had swallowed this potion too, and he continued with running his fingers over the boy's upper arms, carefully so he wouldn't leave bruises on the already so damn fragile limbs, but with enough pressure so the muscles would react to the massage at all. "You will feel better in a moment. Try to relax, think of laying at a beach, or in the grass near a small forest, preferably not the forbidden forest, no one would be able to relax there."

He could feel the boy's tense muscles relaxing underneath his hands and he couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. The boy's breathing became calmer, the lines of pain in his face evened out and his hands finally released the shirt. Not completely, but enough so they just were laying on his stomach.

"Alright." The Potions Master said, knowing they had overcome the worst for now and he lifted the boy's upper body until he rested with his back against his chest, took the boy's right hand and placed the glass of water into the trembling fingers. "That is only water for now, but it will help a bit against the pain in your stomach. I will get you a tea as soon as you are better a bit. Drink."

Well, that had been the first severe cramp hunger caused, the first of many more to come. They would have to deal with them on Harry's part for now and on the other's part later on too. Lifting his eyes off the child in front of him he cast a glance around the classroom and he could see the other students watching them with frightened eyes.

So they all were awake now, and so they all had seen what soon would come over them as well. Maybe it was time to prepare them before it happened, for in one thing Harry had been right – they were not used to it, they didn't know what awaited them. Not that Harry had known the extent of those cramps, he was sure the boy hadn't. Harry had known them to some extent, yes, having had them before, but he was sure that they never had been that severe. The boy had been too frightened, too startled for knowing.

Alone the fact that he had known them to some extent however, got his blood boiling with fury at those damn muggles that were the child's relatives. No child should know of such cramps caused by hunger in the first place.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had hoped.

He simply had hoped that maybe the wards would allow them through, but again they had used each and every spell they could think of and still it had been in vain, still they had not been able to breach the wards, to go through to those locked in the dungeons, and tiredly he sat down into the chair behind the head table.

He wasn't hungry, not really, at least he had no appetite, but he knew that the students watched him and if he gave in to his misery, to his fear and to his worries, he knew, then the students would follow his example. So he started eating, even if the food he was chewing tasted of dust somehow.

He soon would have to talk to them, he knew.

He soon would have to tell them that maybe they should face the bitter truth, that those students, that those Gryffindors and Slytherins that were imprisoned in the dungeons still, maybe would die, maybe already were dead, at least some of them. But not now.

He would not do so right now. They still had some time left – that at least was what he hoped.

He didn't believe that there already was one of them dead. The castle's wards hadn't felt like one of them having died. They had felt different, yes, but different from the gloom and darkness of the past days. So no – he really didn't believe that. If only they had been able to go through. If only they had been able to breach those wards today. Severus and Harry and all the others could be sitting with them right now.

But they hadn't been able to and he had to face the fact, as painful as it seemed to him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Your bodies will need energy to survive." He said.

They all were back at the mattresses, sitting there with their blankets around their shoulders or laying over their laps, some of them leaning against the wall behind them, some of them leaning against the mantelpiece, and some of them leaning against each others. Harry, he noticed, was leaning against Vincent, as strange as it might seem, but the much larger boy simply had pulled the small Gryffindor against him the moment he had released him to get some warm tea with honey for all of them.

Well, he had had no objections against it. If they leaned against each other, they shared their body temperatures and that for kept themselves warm while at the same time they spent comfort to each other. And Vincent, who was the largest of his Slytherins, having Harry leaning against him surely was not the worst solution. Harry was the weakest of them already while Vincent was still strong and the smaller boy could lean against the larger one without fearing that he would tire him out.

"If your bodies cannot get energy in form of food, it will take energy from other sources, and without an extern source such as food, it will take the energy from intern sources, like your muscles, causing cramps, and later on from your organs." He didn't tell them that that would lead to their death in the end, but he was sure that there was no need to, that they all knew this by themselves.

"All of you will have those cramps, sooner or later, and Harry had been the first one." He continued. "Your cramps won't be as severe in the beginning as had been Harry's, as all of you have been eating regularly and properly before this unfortunate mess has happened. Not so Harry who had not had the opportunity of having much food during the holidays with his relatives. That for I will start getting him on the nutrient potion first and I do hope that none of you will accuse him of anything because of it. If you do, you will find yourselves in quite some trouble."

He watched the other students nodding quickly. They all had been startled, and they all had started to think differently upon seeing what would await them, what their imprisonment would cause. They all had seen the seriousness of the situation and they all finally seemed to realize how important it was that they worked together, even Weasley as it seemed. The boy had watched his friend frightened, and he even now couldn't get his eyes off the smaller Gryffindor. He even didn't object Vincent, a Slytherin he'd always had troubles with, holding Harry in his arms so the smaller boy could lean against him.

"I wish to be informed about each and everyone of you having any cramps, never mind how small they might be." He said. "I won't give you the nutrient potion upon your first cramps, but I will provide you with it the moment they start getting dangerous. I also will provide you with muscle relaxing potions, with calming draughts and pain relievers if necessary. You won't be able to prevent the cramps, no matter what, but it is more imperative than ever that you are drinking as much water as possible. Added to this, I will show each of you how to do a simple massage so you can help each others during a cramp."

Again the teenagers he had in front of him nodded at him, silently and seriously.

He hadn't really thought that the situation would go to this, that they still would be down here at the end of day six. He might have had the possibility in his mind, otherwise he wouldn't have resorted to rations, but he had not truly thought that it actually might happen. But here he was. At the end of day six and with seventeen teenagers on his hand which he had to keep alive somehow without knowing how he could manage if a solution wasn't found soon.

"Just encase that the situation will get out of hands and I won't be there to give my support, whatever reason for, I would think it wise to pair you already." He said. "Vincent, I see that you have chosen to taking care of Harry. Are you ready to continue with this?"

"Of course." The boy nodded without hesitation.

"Good." Severus said. "Then do so. Gregory, will you be able to have an eye on Theodore?" Again there was an immediate affirmation and Severus Snape continued, eyeing the students thoughtfully.

"Neville, Are you ready to watch over Draco if necessary?"

He had thought that he would have a fight right then, either the Gryffindor or the Slytherin complaining about not being paired with one of their own house as there still were enough of them left for doing so, but again he was surprised at their willingness to keep this as smooth and as easy as possible.

And well, in the end he had paired Vincent with Harry, Gregory with Theodore, Neville with Draco, Ronald with Hermione, Blaise with Parvati, Millicent with Tracy, Pansy with Daphne and Seamus, Dean and Lavender together. Each pair having a strong part as well as a weak part, each pair having one who would be able to take the lead if necessary and he was rather satisfied with the situation. Some of them he had mixed together, regardless of their houses while he had kept others together. Some of the pairs held girls as well as boys, and some of the pairs he had not mixed concerning their gender, depending on what he knew about them in the first place.

He had mixed them together to the best of his ability and knowledge, and none of them had complained about the pairings.

They would be able to keep each other alive as long as possible even if he would die before them. He didn't intent to die before them, even if he would rather die himself than letting those children die, but at the same time he knew that they all needed him until the end, whichever end that would be. He however couldn't guarantee that and so he had taken preparations. Just in case.

Previously in twenty-one days

He had mixed them together to the best of his ability and knowledge, but none of them had complained about the pairings.

They would be able to keep each other alive as long as possible even if he would die before them. He didn't intent dying before them, even if he would rather die himself than letting those children die, but at the same time he knew that they all needed him until the end. He however couldn't guarantee that and so he had taken precaution. Just in case.

Chapter thirteen

Day seven

Sunday, eighth of September

Narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to one side he watched Harry closely, nearly blinking at him stupidly – a thing that actually had him worried. Severus Snape never blinked stupidly.

And yet – right now he did.

"Which year exactly will you find yourself in if you add 321 years to the year 1471, Harry?"

Well, the outcome was the same – the boy just looked at him, blinking, then at his fingers, still blinking but his confusion growing, back at him, his confusion turning into frustration, and finally back at his fingers still frustrated, as if he were frustrated over the fact that he didn't have enough fingers for adding 321 years to the year 1471.

Well - the boy simply only couldn't concentrate because he was hungry, he told himself, because surely a fourteen year old surely could add 1471 and 321 together.

"Maybe it will help to write the problem down at a parchment to solve it." He suggested, but he was met with another confused blinking from the boy, as if he couldn't understand how that would be of any help, before Harry finally bent over to retrieve a parchment from his bock back. He watched the boy scribbling the numbers down, blinking at them just as stupidly as he had blinked at the boy earlier, a moment ago, and then …

Walking over he watched the boy drawing short vertical lines onto the parchment and he again blinked at the boy stupidly, unable to actually tell him to stop. He had written the number 1471 at the top of the parchment and he had scribbled the number 321 underneath. And now he was drawing those lines at the middle of the parchment.

What was that blasted boy doing, for Merlin's sake? And it had started so easy – with a lesson about the ultimate healing potion being brewed for the first time in the year 1471 and for the last time 321 years later.

Flashback

"Well, Marvin Man Doran's first attempt of brewing this potion, that had caused his own death in the end, had been in the year 1471, but he hadn't been the last one who had tried brewing an ultimate healing potion. The last one had been Warden Man Doran, actually a descendant of Marvin Man Doran who had found the potions journals from his ancestor, 321 years later."

"Then he tried that potion … well, sometime around 1700 or 1800."

"Between 1700 and 1800 there is a time span of hundred years, and Warden Man Doran already had been ninety years old when he tried that potion. He didn't die because of old age, even if he had not been a young man anymore when he had died, but – just like his ancestor – of one of his cauldrons exploding. So, care to get a closer date?"

End flashback

After twenty of those lines the boy started over underneath them.

Did he really intent to draw 321 lines onto that parchment and then count them?

"What …" He started, not able to keep his confusion out of his voice. "What exactly are you doing, child?"

"Uhm …" The boy made, looking up at him, blinkingly. "Trying to find out when Warden Man Doran brewed that potion?"

"No, I mean – what exactly are you doing with those lines?"

"Uhm …" The boy again made, looking at the lines he had drawn on the parchment so far and then looking back at him. "Well, if I … I mean … that is …"

"Did you ever learn how to solve an arithmetic problem?" He asked, his confusion growing at the boy's lack of understanding.

"Uhm … no …" The boy quietly said, looking down at the parchment rather than at him.

"You are not serious." Snape said. "What have you done during primary school?"

There was a pause during which the boy paled even more than he already was. Then –

"I've never been there, alright?" The boy suddenly jumped up, glaring at him for a moment and then turning and leaving the classroom, nearly running into his office, leaving a startled Potions Master and a confused class behind who stared after him in shock, frozen to the spot, some of them blinking just as stupidly as he had earlier. But then Snape leaned his hands onto the desk the brat had been sitting at a moment ago and let his head fall forwards.

How stupid was he?

The boy had been neglected and abused, starved – was it really a wonder that he had not been to primary school? And honestly, suddenly a lot of things made sense to him.

Potter – Harry! For Merlin's sake!

Harry had been able to read and to write, but to written instructions he always had been slower than the rest of the students in his year and his handwriting had been – well, not just untidy but nearly incomprehensible in the beginning. Not like the handwriting of a child facing his fifth year of education, but his first.

Of course he couldn't have known about the boy not attending primary school, but now knowing the boy's history, it was a possibility he could have thought of. The boy's abuse never had become known after all, and if the boy had attended primary school, then there surely would had been one or another teacher who would have noticed the signs. And he doubted that a seven year old child would have managed to hide them as well as he did now with his fourteen years.

With a sigh he straightened up.

"Continue the discussion." He calmly said. "I will rejoin at a later point." And then he strode out of the classroom as well, following the boy into his office, easily finding him sitting on the floor in the corner where he had been sitting only days before, after he had told the class about the nightmares he and Theodore had.

Again, just as he had done back then, he lowered himself onto one knee in front of the boy, watching him for a moment before he gently reached out and placed his fingers underneath the teen's chin, lifting his head. With his other hand he gently ran his thumb over the boy's cheeks, wiping away the tears that ran down the pale cheeks.

"You have been alone for long enough, child. Would you care to enlighten me as to why you think you deserve to be alone with your grief still?" He asked, closing his eyes for a short moment. He had never been prone to give comfort but in the light of recent events it was left to him to pick up the broken pieces of this child's life.

"I didn't mean to upset you." He quietly said. "And neither am I about to blame you."

"I know." The boy murmured between his tears.

Snape's fingers curled with surprising strength and gentleness around Harry's cheek before the Potions Master narrowed his eyes at him, and Harry looked surprised at how much emotions he saw in the Professor's dark eyes.

"What happened?" He simply asked then, leaving it open for the boy to tell him what had happened that he hadn't been at primary school, or what had happened so he had learned reading and writing without attending any school in the first place. He couldn't imagine the boy's aunt having the patience to teach the boy reading and writing, but somehow the boy had learned it, and he couldn't help wondering how.

There wasn't an answer for a long time and Snape seated himself at the floor beside the boy, showing him that he wouldn't leave him alone right now. He would not simply give up. It might be that they died down here, but while they lived, he would do whatever he could to help them, never mind with being hungry, having cramps, nightmares, or simply needing someone to heal their scattered minds.

The boy sitting on the floor beside him made a sound in the back of his throat, an odd sound that startled the Potions Master and he could see the teenager recoiling before folding in on himself, hugging his arms around his chest while the green eyes seemed to express all the emotions the boy couldn't voice or show and Snape finally snapped, resting a strong hand on the brat's bent back.

But then –

"I've been in pre-school." The boy quietly started. "For about half a year or something like that. But I often missed a day or a week because I've been sick or because uncle Vernon had … well … and so aunt Petunia simply kept me at home at one point or another. Once the teacher had called aunt Petunia to get me from school because I've been ill, but I haven't been ill, I just had not had something to eat for a few days. But I couldn't tell that to him. However, at that point aunt Petunia kept me at home all the time. She feared the teachers would find out. She told them that they had brought me to a school for sick children or something like that, I don't know for sure."

"And in pre-school you have learned how to read and to write." Snape simply stated. "So that was the reason you have been able doing so when you came to Hogwarts. And that was the reason you always have been slower with written instructions or that your handwriting was a mess."

"Yes." The boy said. "But it was better that way anyway. Staying at home meant less beatings."

"How so?" Snape asked, wondering what the boy meant. To his information that far Harry had been beaten at home, not at school.

"Aunt Petunia wouldn't beat me like uncle Vernon did. She only made me doing chores." The boy answered with a sigh. "But at school, being better than Dudley, it was just as dangerous as being a complete idiot. I always had to be careful so I wouldn't be better than Dudley but wouldn't be stupid enough so the teachers called on aunt Petunia to come to school because of it. And that wasn't easy as Dudley is so stupid it is nearly impossible to beat him with it."

For a moment Snape couldn't help smirking, imagining the stupidity of Potter's cousin, but then he sobered quickly. It wasn't funny, it was far from being funny. Turning slightly he once again placed his fingers underneath the boy's chin and gently turned his head so he had to look at him.

"What happened if you did better than your cousin at school, Harry?" He quietly asked, already knowing the answer.

"My uncle would beat me and lock me in my cupboard and aunt Petunia wouldn't let me eat anything for days." Harry quietly replied, trying to look down. But Severus didn't let Harry break eye contact as he continued.

"I do understand much better now, child." He said. "And I do thank you for sharing this information. Actually, I think you have been blocking your magical - and your educational abilities for so long that you do it unconsciously now. Might it be that you – unconsciously – are trying to replace your cousin with Ronald Weasley? Because your standard is much around his, just always a tiny bit lower."

Shrugging his shoulders Harry finally managed to look away and Snape let him.

"I think you are much more powerful and intelligent than you have willingly let yourself be." He said, hoping that the teen would take his words to heart. "Even if I always told you otherwise throughout the past three years, you are not stupid. And I want you to remember, I do care for you, and I will never, absolutely never, punish you for doing your best, no matter if it is much better than even I can do. That is a promise, son, and I always keep my promises!"

Son!

At that one word Harry fell completely silent, his throat feeling scratchy suddenly and his voice, he was sure, had abandoned him. A hesitant hand pushed through his hair and Harry tried to calm himself. His breathing was coming faster and he knew that soon he would start crying – again!

Startled, Harry yelped when Snape suddenly moved his arms around his shoulders in a strong but careful grip as he pulled the wizarding child to him, the grip around the thin and bony shoulders tight, and only when the boy relaxed into the embrace, calmed down bit by bit, did Snape relax his arms, loosening his grip without letting the boy go entirely. The child's head was nestled under his chin and his worry just increased. The teen felt too small and slight in his arms, more like a small child than like the teenager he was, and it was a long time before the older wizard released the child completely.

"Are you feeling better now?" He quietly asked. He didn't let it show, but he was angry, very angry. Not at the child however – for once as it normally always had been this child he had been angry at – but at the child's relatives, at the child's aunt and uncle. And he promised himself, again, that if they made it out of this, then they would pay for what they had done to a wizarding child, to any child.

He had never been a man prone to hope and only in his very darkest moments, when he had been sure, when he had known, that he might die at any moment, had he indulged himself into believing that everything would turn out well, but now … now he couldn't help hoping, hoping that everything would turn out for the best so he simply could take Harry into his home, so he simply could give the blasted brat what he never before had gotten from anyone.

Still there were a few more moments of silence between them, the boy only nodding at him, before Snape continued.

"Are you ready to go back so we can solve this arithmetic problem of yours together?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It actually was so easy, solving arithmetic problems, and he wondered why he never had thought of solving them the way Snape had shown him after they had come back to the classroom and Snape had seated himself at the table beside him, explaining to him how he could do it.

Well, Snape had said that – if one didn't know how to solve them, then it wasn't easy to find out about this way alone, that a child normally learned this way of solving arithmetic problems in primary school – which he hadn't attended. And as he never had learned that way of solving those problems, he had done them the only way he could have thought of – namely drawing those lines and simply counting them together.

And Snape had even said that he would give detention to everyone who dared giving him, Harry, troubles because he never had attended primary school, including him and for a moment he had wondered how he would give himself troubles because of this. But then – well, he always had blamed himself for stuff. As it seemed, Snape knew him rather well meanwhile and somehow he didn't know if this was a good sign or a bad one.

Well, but then Draco had shaken his head and had said that he never would have imagined him, Harry, not having attended primary school if he hadn't said so, had asked where he had learned all the other stuff they needed at Hogwarts and were taught at primary school normally. None of them had given a scathing remark or something like that.

And now that Snape had shown him what exactly he could do with numbers he actually wondered if he shouldn't drop divination and chose arithmancy instead. It really had been so easy and – silently, he didn't want to get detention after all – he had blamed himself for being so stupid in the first place.

Flashback

"You have the number 1471." Snape said, simply turning the parchment over. "Write it down."

He did, writing the number down onto the parchment.

"The number you have to add is 321. Write it underneath so that the last numbers are directly underneath each other. Always do it that way so you won't get confused, that is important."

Well, he again did as Snape had told him, writing the second number underneath the first one so that the one of 321 was directly below the one of 1471 and so on.

"Good." Snape said. Taking a pencil from his robes and Harry nearly gaped at him. He never before had seen Snape writing with a pencil instead of a quill and ink. He watched Snape drawing vertical lines between the numbers, separating them. "Those last numbers are the units, the seven and the two are the tens, the four and the three are the hundreds and the one here is the thousands. See that you always write the units, the tens, the hundreds and the thousands below each other."

Harry nodded at the Potions Master, wondering why the man was so patient and why he explained it so well to him. Well, he surely would make a mistake with this one, he always did, and then Snape wouldn't be so patient anymore.

"Now you simply add them together." Snape said. "One added to one is what?"

"Uhm … two." Harry answered, not understanding why Snape asked this. It was clear that one and one was two. Everyone knew this, even he. He needed the entire …

"So you write the two underneath both tens. What is two added to seven?"

"Nine." Harry answered, writing the two below the two ones, still not understanding. He did not need the …

"Exactly." Snape said. "And now you simply write the nine below the tens. What is three added to four?"

"Seven." Again Harry answered after writing the nine down where it – obviously – belonged to.

"Correct. Write it down below the hundreds." Snape said and he did so. "Now, you hove no number below the first one from 1471 and for now we simply fill this space with a zero. And what is it if you add nothing to one?"

Well, he already had written the one below the one and the zero and Snape actually smirked at him. At him! Snape! Snape actually smirked! And not in his normally evil way but nearly as if –

But surely Snape couldn't be proud of him! Not over such a simply thing he had …

Well, Snape actually was proud at the brat.

Harry might be fourteen years old, but he never had been to primary school and even pre-school he had visited for half a year only. And yet the boy seemed having understood the concept as to how he best solved a four-digit arithmetic problem. Reaching his pencil towards the boy he continued.

"Take this so you can correct eventual mistakes you make. And now try to add 2342 to 5357."

Well, the boy definitely had – somewhere along the way from his sixth month of pre-school to his fourth year of Hogwarts learned how to write four-digit numbers, however he had managed it, maybe trial and error, and suddenly the thought struck him that during Harry's first year his cauldron mostly had been exploding because of the wrong amount of ingredients. Maybe if the boy had addressed him with his problem, they could have avoided that.

But then – how should Harry have managed addressing him with this? He had made the boy's potions lessons a living hell since lesson one. He never had given the boy a chance in the first place. And even if Harry would have dared – would he, Snape, had taken the problem seriously? Would he actually have taught the boy how to do math? Or would he not rather have sneered at him? Reprimanded him for his stupidity?

The lack of scratching from the pencil over parchment made him looking down and he frowned.

7699

That was correct, and Harry had done this one by himself, looking up at him now, questioningly, expectantly, nearly even scared, and he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"That is correct." He said, allowing himself another smile. "This way you can add as much numbers together as you want, never mind how many digits they have. Try 1253, 14312 and 54432."

Well, this time he watched the boy writing the numbers below each other and he could see the insecurity Harry displayed now, that there were three numbers to add, not being sure for a moment if it would be as simple as with two. He didn't interfere however, wanted to know if Harry would manage on his own. And the boy did, the result was correct.

"Absolutely correct, Mr. Potter, well done." He said, not able to keep the pride out of his voice and the boy gave him a tentative smile in return at the praise, for it was high praise coming from him, Snape, and the boy knew it as well as did he. "And I will take your new ability as a new standard when it comes to handling the amount of potions ingredients you have to use in your potions. So be warned, I do know now that you can add."

He watched the boy for a while longer, allowing the boy watching him at the same time, and he wondered how Petunia could have rejected this boy so much. And he knew that the woman had. Even though most – if not all – of Harry's physical scars were because of that … that animal … didn't mean that the worst damage had been done by him too.

Affection – no, he didn't dare using the word 'love' – but affection of any kind, warmth, praise – as rare as it might be –, care of any kind, was vital in the upbringing of a healthy and care-free child, even he knew that. But Harry had had none of those things while growing up. The physical abused at the hands of his uncle was despicable in itself, but the neglect on his aunt's part was just as bad, if not even worse than that, because any child craved the affection and the care of a parental figure.

And if a child had a parental figure who actively abused him while the other parent just stood by and watched on, did nothing while even spoiling another child with love and warmth and food at the same time, that was just sickening.

And of course Harry never had said anything, because in all of his experiences, any complaint only would be dealt with harshly, even brutally.

"Never again, child." He finally said, simply placing his hand onto the boy's shoulder. "You will never have to be there again and you will never have to fear asking for something – and even if it is only how to solve an arithmetic problem." He placed the fingers of his other hand underneath the boy's chin and gently pulled Harry's head up so that he could look directly into those green eyes. "And that is a promise." He added.

End flashback

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Soft sobbing got Snape out of his slumber close to midnight and he lifted his head from the journal he had been writing in earlier. He really should lay down if he was so tired that he fell asleep upon his work. But it simply had been important, writing down the day's events, how the potion he had used on Harry's eyes yesterday had started to work, that Harry never had been to primary school, that he had started to teach him math. That Draco had been very helpful in this, that Pansy had had her first breakdown and that they were running out of none-poisoning ingredients for their – 'soups'.

But that day had been so full of activities, of chatter and of – blinking he realized that the day had been full of normal day life, full of normal things like conversations, like learning, teaching, games, full of even laugher and full of tears. Obviously they had started to go into a routine they all seemed comfortable with, and obviously they all …

Well, they lived down here.

They actually lived down here.

Another sob caused him to look over the children and he easily could make out Miss Granger, Hermione, sobbing, laying on her mattress beside Ronald Weasley that was her partner, the boy sleeping on peacefully.

Sighing he got off his desk and went over to the girl, going onto one knee beside her and softly placing his hand on her shoulder he quietly said her name. He didn't know how she would react and he didn't want to startle her too much. He knew the reactions of all his Slytherins, but with the Gryffindors, he would have to learn theirs.

"Come over to your – common table." He said, getting off the floor beside the girl to give her some space. He went over to the mantelpiece and poured tea into two cups. The one thing that would not run out for another week. He added honey to the one for the girl and brought them over to the group of tables the children had brought together at one point or another during the past days.

"Have you been wakened by a nightmare, child, or have you been unable to sleep at all?" He asked, shoving the cup of tea with the honey towards the girl that now sat at one of the chairs and he seated himself beside the girl.

"I've had a nightmare." The girl answered, reaching out for the cup.

"What happened?" He simply asked.

The girl looked at him startled for a moment, but then she sighed, taking a sip of the warm tea.

"I've dreamed of my parents." She finally said. "At first everything was normal, my father had been in his dental surgery and mum had been at home, cooking. But suddenly my father had been in a cave, searching for old skeletons, even if he isn't an archaeologist. And mum had been in the kitchen and suddenly there hadn't been any food there and she couldn't go out to buy something. She tried the telephone to order something, but it didn't work either. And dad too couldn't get out of that cave and he suddenly realized that all the skeletons had been died because of lack of food."

"You are aware that in your dream you simply have projected our situation upon your parents, child?" Snape asked, placing a comforting hand onto the again sobbing girl's shoulder.

"Yes." Miss Granger said between her quiet sobs. "It was horrible nevertheless."

"Our situation is horrible, Hermione." Snape said. "No one can deny that. And it is normal that in your dreams you are working those horrors over. If you wouldn't you would go crazy sooner or later. We need our dreams. Sleep without dreaming would give us no comfort in the long run. I know that it is frightening, but it is necessary. Maybe you want to start writing a journal before you go to bed? That would help with your fears."

"How so?" The girl asked unsurely and it was clear that she didn't want to because she didn't want to acknowledge her fears.

"If you write your fears down in the evening before you go to bed, then it will be the first step in working them over in your mind. Your dreams won't be so violent then as the process of working them over already has started on the paper." He answered.

"But I don't want to write about it." The girl admitted after a moment of silence. "It is bad enough to think about it during the day."

"I do know that acknowledging your fears is a difficult thing, Hermione." Snape answered. "But it is necessary. We all have the same fears as have you. And we all have to acknowledge them because only then they will be less frightening. It might not work, but it is worth a try as it mostly does. Simply take your potions copybook and start the journal."

"But …"

"The potions we will be brewing down here due to the schedule your classmates have worked out, you simply may copy them on a parchment and the moment we are out of here I will get you a new copybook for the subject I am teaching." He said, interrupting the girl's protests. "And seeing as you surely won't be able to go back to sleep right now, you might consider starting right now with simply writing down your dream. I am sure that this way it will not repeat itself for at least tonight when you go back to sleep later."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

At one point during the past half an hour while she wrote down her dream, she looked over at Professor Snape who had gone back to his desk, writing on his own papers. Only that the man wasn't really writing but watching the others that were sleeping, especially Harry, she noticed, and he was looking very tired and worried, and somehow – more human than she ever had seen him and she started to realize that the black clad man actually cared deeply, that the dark and tough man actually seemed to like - no, to love Harry.

Well, she didn't better say this sentence aloud, she knew, or she would be in really, really serious problems then.

A few days earlier, she never would have believed anyone who would have told her about such a thing, a caring Snape, a Snape that was ready to take Harry in, Harry of all people! Who explained things to them patiently and who didn't snap at them, even with all their nerves already strained. But now she saw it with her own eyes and it was such a strange and foreign thing that she would need a few days more to really understand it. Snape caring for them, even the Gryffindors. Snape caring for Harry especially.

It had felt strange, using Miss Granger's given name, but slowly he got used to using the student's given names – not entirely, but somewhat at least, sometimes. And he simply had felt it necessary in this situation. That girl too was no one who had caused any troubles so far. None of them had, he had to admit - aside from Ronald Weasley, and out of jealousy. But he had promised Harry that he would not hold it against the redhead and as long as Weasley behaved further, he would keep his promise.

Walking into his office he noticed that the girl had gone back to her mattress and now – apparently at least – was sleeping much better than she had before and he was satisfied.

Harry awoke at one point in the middle of the night, all sweaty despite the coldness down here. Well, he hadn't been able to take the dreamless sleep tonight and he noticed that he would not get anymore sleep right now anyway. So he left his mattress and went to a corner in the classroom where he sat down on the cold stone floor, not wanting to wake Crabbe, Vincent, with his restless movements at one point or another.

He leaned on the wall behind him and closed his eyes, shivering slightly in the cold dungeons air and at the cold stony wall touching the back of his damp shirt, but immediately the flashbacks in his mind were back again. The feeling of being unwanted, the fear of being rejected sweeping over him and it was then he realized that he was never going to be loved. He would always be the Bloody Boy Who Lived, no matter what he did to change that image.

Quickly he reopened his eyes. He didn't want to feel that right now. He didn't want to have those flashbacks.

Snape had promised him that he would care for him, and he believed the man, as strange as it was. Snape caring for him, Potter. Snape of all people. He still couldn't grasp that thought entirely yet. But Snape had promised. And Snape had said that he wanted him. In his own sarcastic and strange way Snape had said that he wanted him – even if the thought caused him a headache as Snape had phrased it. But he wanted him, had even offered him a family, that he would be his father, that he would brew a potion to make it permanently. Would it be some kind of … adoption potion? Did Snape even have the ingredients he needed for this potion? Wouldn't Snape need the consent of the ministry or something like that? Or the Dursleys?

He shuddered at that thought. He didn't want to go to the Dursleys to ask them. He didn't want to go back to them at all.

He had not lied to the Professor when he had told him that he already was ready for this. That he was ready to be the – grumpy, old Potions Master's, the dungeon bat's son. He was ready, as strange as it was. Ron probably wouldn't understand it, but he wanted this. Snape had given him already so much more than he'd ever had. Even if the man had been making his potions lessons a living hell since he first had set his foot into the man's classroom.

But that was the past. And he had learned soon enough to be flexible, to adapt to new situations. And Snape did care, what was all he ever had wished for, that someone cared.

He didn't notice his eyes dropping close and he didn't notice sleep capturing him once more.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Of course Harry had managed to wake up and to leave his mattress at exactly the time he was not present in the classroom, even if it only had been ten minutes he had left to get his office in order before going to sleep himself and with a sigh he went over to the wall the boy was leaning against, shivering in his sleep at the cold dungeons air. Stupid child!

Lowering himself onto one knee in front of the idiotic boy he noticed that he was back to sleep already, but he also noticed the still damp shirt and the barely audible but nevertheless unsettling wheezing the boy's chest gave away with each breath. Of course the boy shivered with cold if he was sitting here in the cold dungeons air, wearing a damp shirt. The boy probably had woken from a nightmare.

His breathing had been difficult in some ways since that potion had exploded. He was sure that the boy's lungs had not been affected too badly, that he had gotten the healing potion for the boy's lungs into him quickly enough. But his breathing even so had been more difficult since then and he knew that sitting here in the cold dungeons air surely wouldn't do any good to the child's already weak lungs.

Gently curling his fingers around the boy's upper arm he called out his name, started to pull the boy off the cold floor, away from the cold wall in his back.

"Wha'?" The boy asked in his sleep dazed state, barely opening his eyes.

"How eloquent, Mr. Potter." The Potions Master drawled. "Idiot child! Sitting here in the cold while wearing a damp shirt. You could have gotten me from my office. It isn't as if I could go away so far, you know? Next time you wake from a nightmare you will get me, you disobedient little brat."

At his words the boy gave a small smile away in his half-sleep while allowing him, Snape, to lead the boy back to the mattresses, and he had to admit, despite the harsh words he had chosen, his voice had lost its touch. It must have lost its touch if the Gryffindor could smile at his words. Impertinent brat!

Gently shoving Potter down onto the mattresses he lay down himself, opened the buttons of the boy's damp shirt and then pulled the shirt off the boy's small frame. If he slept with this damp shirt on him, he only would catch a cold. So pulling the boy that was already back to sleep close into his arms he threw Harry's and his own blanked over both of them so he could keep the small body warm with his own. He knew that some of his colleagues would protest now, but he didn't care. They were not in their situation and they would have no right to judge anything they decided or did, as long as it kept them alive and as healthy as possible.

It was much later when Harry woke again, shifted in his sleep and for a moment he wiggled himself deeper into the warmth that embraced him, a warmth that not only had to do with the temperature, he knew, but with something else as well and he basked within the feeling of safety as deeply as possible, hoping that he somehow could safe this feeling – just in case.

It took him another few minutes, minutes of pure bliss, until he opened his eyes and gave a sigh, his surroundings slowly coming into view and into his awareness and suddenly he noticed what exactly the warm feeling was, one of Snape's arms curling around his upper body and his head resting upon the man's upper arm like on a pillow.

Taking a startled breath he tried to get away, but immediately the grip around his upper body tightened.

"Stop this annoying wiggling and go back to sleep, you insufferable child, it is still too early for being awake." Snape's voice drawled from behind him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Something – or someone – Harry – wiggling in his arms woke him from his sleep and he opened one eye, easily noticing the boy basking in the feeling of being held, knowing that probably the child never before had been held like this and he couldn't help feeling relaxed at the knowledge that finally the boy was and that apparently he enjoyed the feeling – as much as he wished the brat would go back to sleep so he himself could do just the same.

A few minutes later however the boy moved in a more startled way and he guessed that he – finally – had woken up completely, realizing in whose arms he lay and he tightened the grip he had on the boy to keep him from getting away.

"Stop this annoying wiggling and go back to sleep, you insufferable child." He growled, opening one eye to look down at the child. "It is still too early for being awake."

"I'm sorry, sir." The boy immediately apologized. "I didn't mean to …"

"Shut up, brat." Snape interrupted before Harry could make a fool of himself. "I pulled you to me last night and you are quite fine right here where you are. You have been much too cold after sitting on the cold floor wearing a damp shirt."

He could tell that the boy wanted to protest but that he was just too tired and that the warmth he offered simply was too beckoning.

"Okay." Was all he heard from the brat before he fell back asleep and he himself closed his eyes again too.

Coming back to the classroom Severus watched the children for a few moments silently. As it seemed they had found the packing thread he kept on one of the shelves. There were some occasions that he sold one or another potion and if he had to send them he had to ensure that they were packed safely. In a packet wrapped with packing thread. And now the little imps had found this one and were playing ball with it, throwing it through the classroom to each other.

"Alright." Draco said. "I choose truth."

"You're just too afraid about what we could make you doing." Theodore smirked at the blond who huffed at the other boy.

"Alright, Draco." Weasley, Ronald, started, slowly. "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"That's all you can ask, Weasel?" Draco blinked at the redhead and he could see the hurt in the other boy's eyes at Draco using weasel instead of Ronald or at least Weasley. Well, he had known that the boy would have a hard time, reintegrating himself into the group after his attack at Harry. "You're disappointing me. And yes, I have."

Severus quickly scanned the present Slytherin girls and upon noticing Tracy going red he immediately knew who it had been the boy, that right now threw the ball towards Longbottom, Neville, had been kissing.

"Truth." Neville immediately said. Well, somehow he had known that the boy would choose that.

"Alright, Neville." Draco said. "Is it true that you're in love with Lovegood?"

"Yes." The other boy admitted with a heavy sigh.

"You're not serious." Weasley, Ronald, said, his eyes large. "She's mental!"

"Dunno." Neville answered. "Sometimes she seems mental, but in the end she always is right somehow. She knows things just in another, in a strange way we can't understand, but in the end she always is right."

"But she's talking in riddles." Seamus shook his head. "No one's able to understand her."

"Dumbledore's talking in riddles too." Neville defended the third year Ravenclaw girl. "And no one understands him either if he's in his antics, but everyone likes him nevertheless."

"Alright, that's an argument." Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "And she's pretty, good choice, Neville."

The boy blushed a deep red, averting his eyes for a moment and Theodore actually had to remind him to throw the ball, what he did then, towards Blaze.

"Dare." The boy said, seemingly being the first one who chose this as they all cheered at that.

"Uhm … well … alright … you go to Professor Snape and ask him if he ever had been in love."

Groaning Severus closed his eyes. That definitely was the worst thing they could … "I don't think that's a good idea." He heard Harry saying and startled he opened them and looked over at the boy.

"And why not? It's a simple dare-question." Neville blinked at the raven.

"Yes, normally it would be, but we're not in a normal situation." Harry said. "Maybe he had been in love once and something happened, whatever it could have been, because he isn't married, is he? Well, and with this question we only would hurt him then and we shouldn't do so. None of us knows if we'll make it out of here alive and none of us should do anything that would hurt someone."

"You're right." Theodore said. "Think of something else, Neville."

"Alright … ok … uhm … well … I bet you wouldn't dare waking Professor Snape tonight and telling him that all his shelves in the potions lab broke – the potions vials all laying broken on the floor now."

"Isn't he supposed doing the dare right away?" Gran- … Hermione asked.

"Normally yes." Draco answered. "But Neville is right. Severus would hear it if his potions lab would be destroyed and he wouldn't believe it without the noise."

"Oh … yes." The girl answered, frowning, and he, Severus, couldn't help frowning too. Hermione normally would have been the one thinking of such a thing as missing noise when it came to his destroyed potions laboratory. Yet – she obviously hadn't. He knew that the lack of food would cause lack of concentration sooner or later, but honestly, he had thought that the girl would show signs of this lack rather later than sooner. Obviously he was wrong.

"Ok, I'll do it." Blaze said, smirking and he, Snape lifted his eyebrow. Well, that could be funny, if he had any say in this too – now that he knew what awaited him. The boy threw the 'ball' to Harry who sighed.

"Truth." He said and for a moment he could see fear in the boy's eyes.

Yes, Harry was a Gryffindor through and through – when it came to keep his friends safe, when it came to help someone that was in trouble. He would go through hell and back if it were necessary to save his friends or anyone at all and he would willingly die if it were necessary to keep someone else alive. But otherwise the boy was rather sly. Yes – Harry would have fit well into his house. It would have taken him, Snape, some time to get used to the fact, but …

"Well …" He heard Blaze starting his question and he could see both boys regarding each other carefully, Blaze apparently wondering if he could ask the question that was on his mind and Harry as it seemed wondering what question Blaze might ask of him. "Well … Professor Snape said he would take you in, and you seemed to be alright with this. I mean, you even looked as if you were afraid he would back out of this." The boy started and he could see Harry going pale.

For a moment he wondered if this thought was so startling to the boy and he wondered if he really had done the right thing, offering the boy adoption, and why the boy had agreed so easily, even had been disappointed upon learning that Draco was his godson, when at the same time the thought of it was so startling to him. But then Blaze continued.

"Well, I wonder, what do you think? Are you really sure that you are alright with the Professor taking you in?"

He could see Harry giving a sigh of relief before smiling – actually smiling – at the other boy and he wondered what it had been the boy had feared Blaze might be asking.

"Yes, I am." He listened to the Gryffindor's answer and he couldn't help feeling a strange knot settling into his chest. "I am absolutely sure."

"But why?" Ronald asked, shaking his head. "It's Snape we're speaking of. He's made your potions lessons a living hell since day one. I don't understand, Harry. You've been ill before each and every potions class and on days we've had potions you weren't even able to eat anything at all."

"Yes." Harry admitted in a near whisper, averting his eyes and Severus couldn't help feeling the pain the boy felt himself, knowing that he had caused the boy such troubles for three years. "Yes, I have been ill before potions and yes I have been too nervous to eat anything on days we've had potions. But that's past. Professor Snape has apologized and … dunno, maybe he'd just had a wrong view of me, as I had a wrong view of him. He isn't so bad. He does everything to keep us not only alive but as comfortable as possible too. He talks to us and he … well, he's the only adult who ever listened to me, who ever believed me, who never lied to me. He's the only one … I mean, he allowed me to cry all over him and he even held me. Much has changed Ron, and honestly, we haven't been much better anyway, calling him dungeons bat and evil git. We never have tried to see what might be behind his mask."

"As I have never tried to see what might be behind your mask, Harry."

It was at that moment that he finally entered the classroom, stepping behind the boy that was to become his son, that neither had noticed Draco's startled face nor Theodore's and he had to suppress a smile when he saw the startled faces of the nine children that were awake right now, their guilty looks, and again he realized how much he enjoyed tormenting children, Gryffindors as well as Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, even if only his Gryffindors were present right now aside from his Slytherins. His Gryffindors! Somehow this thought wasn't so frightening anymore.

Gently he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and took the packing thread ball from Harry's fingers. The imp however did not really look contrite as he looked up at him – so much for the tormenting.

"Truth." He simply said, still looking at the boy, the curled up packing thread they had used as a ball still in his hands.

It took the boy a few moments to curl his mind around the fact that he, the dungeons bat, the evil git, had joined their game, had taken the ball and now had chosen truth, allowing him to ask a question, any question, in front of his classmates. But then his shoulders slumped and Severus knew that he had chosen his question, and that it wouldn't be a pleasant question.

"What if we're out of here?" The boy asked. "Right now we're here and none of us knows if we will survive. But what if … what if …" Unable to finish his question the boy trailed off and then averted his eyes and he physically could feel the child's desperation.

"You mean – will I stand to my word the moment we are out of this classroom?" He asked, lowering himself down to one knee beside the boy until he was at eyelevel with the teenager who looked at him nearly frightened. "Yes, it is easy to take someone in, knowing that it wouldn't be for long, knowing that maybe death lies ahead soon to remedy the situation. And yes, your question is very much warranted and I do understand your train of thoughts. You however should know me by now, after three years of having me as your potions teacher. Did I ever give you the impression that I did things I have not thought through? Did I ever give you the impression that I did things I did not want to? Until the end?"

The boy only could shake his head, still not able to give a voiced answer away and he slowly nodded his head. "I too had a picture of you in my mind, a picture that had been wrong, I might add, and I have acted according to this picture, I have allowed this picture to rule over my emotions and to dictate my actions towards you, for what I once again apologize. I should not have caused you so much pain. And to finally answer your question. Yes, I have offered to adopt you, and you will stay my son until the end, whatever end this might be, death down here, or you being old enough to have your own children to present an old and grumpy Potions Master with grandchildren."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said after a few moments of just watching him, smiling at him, even if shyly only and groaning inwardly Snape realized that he liked to see the child smiling, realized that he indeed was about to go soft – or to lose his touch, maybe both. This was not good … this was not good at all … but at the same time he was afraid that something would stop this now, that something would draw a halt to this. He was more afraid that the small smile would stop some day again than about the fact that he was becoming soft.

Throughout all the years living with his less pleasant father, throughout all the years as a spy, and throughout all the years since Lily had died, he had learned all the stages of grief by heart but he never had healed. There always had been another pain, another reminder, another betrayal that had ripped his heart open wider and wider until he simply had built such a strong wall around it that nobody could penetrate to reach him and to hurt him anymore, and all he allowed them to see was a bitter, sarcastic and dark, cold, bastard of a man. A mere shell of the man he would like to be.

Of course it was nice from time to time to deceive himself and to allow himself to think of better times or another world, to dream of someone who would accept him, of someone who would not shy away from him the moment he entered the room, of someone who would not turn his back on him, of someone who would see the man he wanted to be, but he didn't know anymore how to show others the other side of the man that was Severus Snape and somehow he always had known that there never would be such a person. No one could see behind his mask, not even his Slytherins, as well as they knew him, not even they could see him completely.

But somehow Harry could see. Harry, who absolutely never had learned positive interactions between human beings, this child was able to see more than just the shell of the man he wanted to be. He could see the man he already was, not the one he displayed out of fear of being rejected.

Gently he lifted his hand and carded his fingers through the boy's black mop of hair, piercing the child that could see behind his mask with a serious gaze of his own before he got a grip on himself and his eyes came to rest on Weasley. He stood and then threw the ball at the red haired boy.

Shocked the teen needed a few moments until he was able to stammer a "t-truth" out, his eyes as startled as his voice. Well, he had hoped that the boy would choose this.

"Will you accept your friend's decision in his choice of his elders, Ronald?" He simply asked, his eyes not leaving the boy while one of his hands still rested on Harry's shoulder.

"Yes." Ronald Weasley answered after another few moments he seemed to need to comprehend the situation and to understand the question. "Of course."

"Good." The Potions Master inclined his head curtly. "Then I suggest you end this – silly game, and take the bowls from the shelf. Our … soup … is ready."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Did you really … I mean, I don't want to be so … dunno … I know I'm annoying the hell out of you … but …"

Sighing Severus placed the quill aside and beckoned the boy over. He waited until the child that was so unsure of himself and anything that had to do with himself stood in front of him, his gaze lowered to his knees and he took the boy's wrists and gently pulled him closer until he stood between said knees.

"I guess I will have to say it for another thousand times." He said, gently taking hold of the boy's chin and lifting his head slightly so he had to look at him. "Yes, I did mean what I said, or I would not have said it in the first place and surely not in front of your classmates. And yes, I do want you, or I would not have offered adoption to you in the first place. And no, nothing will change the moment we are out of here. I have thought it through before I offered you this and I do know that it is something that will be permanent. You cannot adopt someone today and discard him tomorrow. So I do know that it will last until either you or I will be dead. You never have had someone who actually wanted you, and your entire life you have learned how unwanted you are, in physical lessons as well as in emotional lessons, and so I do understand your reluctance in believing my words. But can you not at least try to believe them?"

"I want to, sir." The boy sighed and looked back at the dirty floor underneath their feet. "But I just don't know how. I want to belief it so badly it hurts whenever I think that such a thing never could happen to me, but I don't know how."

That was a response that somehow warmed within him and he pulled the boy closer even until he could wrap his arms around the thin frame of the child. Some place within that had been cold for such a long time warmed by Harry's tone of voice as his former bane of existence said that he wanted to believe Severus. That was something, concerning this particular child it was something important, it was a step in the right direction and Severus silently acknowledged it as what it was.

Watching the child leaving his office, stepping back into the classroom, sighing a sad sigh of somebody who had seen too many things while having too small shoulders to carry them, sighing a tired sigh, he wondered if the child ever would have a chance, if they would have a chance or if they would die down here before he could try to help the boy back to life.

Coming back to the classroom Harry saw Ron and Hermione talking quietly together with Neville, Vincent and Gregory, sitting on the tables they had shoved together a few days earlier. For a moment he had to furrow his brows, but then he remembered their given names and he smiled, noticing that he got better in this. Draco and Theodore both were sleeping as well as Lavender, Seamus and Parvati. Dean was reading a book but he could see his eyes dropping from time to time. Millicent, Pansy and Daphne were whispering together, sitting at the group of mattresses, Tracy and Blaze sitting beside them tiredly.

He strolled over to one of the remaining tables in the background and taking his book bag he pulled out another sheet of parchment and his quill. He didn't have to bother with ink as their ink bottles were scattered around on the different desks.

While for an essay he normally got distracted easily, never mind how much he tried to keep focused while sitting at his desk in the common room – by Ron's fiddling with his Quidditch book or by Ginny's talking about the last Quidditch game, by Seamus' theories about the next Quidditch game, he right now was able to concentrate on what he wanted to write down, even if the soft whisper of their conversations reached him. He normally wanted to join their conversations and to ask about the Ravenclaws' seeker or the Hufflepuffs' beater, or the Slytherin's keeper – and the next thing he knew, it was too late for finishing his essay but time for bed.

Right now however, he began scratching off words right away, as if they were longing to leap from his fingers through the quill and onto the page. He scribbled and he could ignore everyone in the room as he wrote and wrote and wrote.

A little while later, Harry heard the Potions Master quietly returning to the classroom and sitting down at his desk, but he didn't stop writing even then and from the occasional sound of a scratching quill, Harry knew that the man was writing in his own journal.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus Snape had been writing for some time now. He had started accounts on what was happening down here, on the children's health, on their remaining potions and potions ingredients, on their emotions and on their decisions days ago now and he would continue doing so until the end. It was important for when Albus found them, never mind if he found them dead or alive still and so he ended each report on what step would be important when they were found – just in case that he wouldn't be present anymore to take care of things – or would be to weak doing so.

Looking over at the boy he worried most about he noticed that Harry had fallen asleep, his arm laying outstretched on the tabletop beside the parchment he had been writing on, his head laying atop his outstretched upper arm, using it as some kind of pillow. The quill lay loosely in the boy's other hand that rested on the other side of the parchment, and he shook his head. If the boy slept in such an uncomfortable position, then he surely would be all achy the next day, something that wouldn't go well together with the hunger cramps the boy already experienced.

With a silent groan he got off the chair. His own body started to complain, as it seemed, not liking the treatment it had to go through, but he shoved it to the background. He had endured worse during his life, he would be able to endure this as well. For a while at least.

When he had come back to the classroom he had spotted Harry sitting at the table, writing, while some others had been sleeping and two groups of children had been conversing quietly. He had been about to go over to Harry, to spend some company with him, but then he had decided against it. If Harry had wanted company, then he would have chosen their 'commontable' as they called it by now to write on. The boy however hadn't done so, he had chosen the solitary of one of the abandoned desks, what had meant that he had wanted to be alone and he had respected this wish for privacy. They had little enough of that down here.

Coming to a halt beside the table he couldn't help looking down at the sleeping child for a moment, at the relaxed form despite the uncomfortable position the boy slept in, and at the parchment that lay in front of the sleeping boy and two words practically sprang to his eyes, beckoning him to take the parchment and to read it, two words that made his heart leap within his chest.

'Hi dad,'

He stared at those two words, even after he had taken the parchment from between the sleeping child's arms and he simply seemed to be unable to peel his eyes off them. Hi dad. Two simple words, simple letters stringed together, and they nearly had him hitching a breath, had his heart leaping in his chest, had him swallowing past a lump that formed in his throat, had him nearly suffocating. Hi dad. And Harry had used them. Harry, the child that had trusted no adult so far, Harry, who had been abused for his entire life, Harry whom he had hurt so badly for the past three years. This child had used those strings of letters, those two small words. Hi dad.

This child that had gone through so much acknowledged him even yet, even before they had used the potion he was brewing in his laboratory right now, even before the adoption was valid, as his father, as the one person he would be living with, and the amount of trust he could sense between those two simple words nearly made him wanting to slam his fist at the table for all the injustice and all the hurt and pain this particular boy had been through – and would go through if they weren't found and freed soon.

Looking back at the parchment he couldn't help reading those two words once more before reading the rest of what that child had composed.

'Hi dad,

I know it's ridiculous to write this now and I know that you're no one for sentimentalities or such things, but I feel that I just HAVE to write this, just in case. Well, there isn't much to say at all, we've talked a lot and I'm sure that we'll do so until the end, whatever end it might be, just like you said. But what I wanted to say to you is, thanks.

It's true what I've said earlier, you're the ONLY adult that ever listened to me, that ever believed me and that never lied to me. You've given me so much more in such a short time than aunt Petunia ever had in thirteen years. You've given me more than just healing, words, hugs and comfort. You've given me hope and a reason to fight until we're out of here, because you've given me a family, and I want to live to HAVE that family, and for that I do thank you. You can't imagine how happy you've made me with this.

Maybe I should have listened to the hat, three years ago, and I wonder what it would have been like, if I had been sorted into YOUR house, if I had been sorted into Slytherin. I wonder if that had been a bad thing, or a good one, if it would have made a difference at all. I wonder what you would have been like, if you still would have hated me then, and if, if you then would have acted towards me differently even IF you hated me.

Well, maybe I would have lost Ron's and Hermione's friendship then, ok, not maybe but SURELY. And I surely would have missed a lot then, because they've been my first and only real friends I ever had. But on the other hand, I wouldn't have known their friendship then and I surely can't miss something I've never had. And besides – well, Draco, Theo and I have become some kinds of friends now anyway, and maybe I would have been friends with them back then too. I don't know.

However, I just wanted to say thanks to you, and I wanted to apologize. For all the troubles I cause you now.

I know that it is my fault that you have to deal with me now in such a way. If I were NORMAL, just like the others, then you would not have to worry about me in such a way to all the worries you now have about this situation to begin with. And I know that if I just had been not so bad, then uncle Vernon would not have had to punish me so often, or if I just would have been STRONGER, then you never would have found out – what also leads to not worrying so much over me added to your worries about the situation.

So, if I summarize everything, I only can say I'm sorry for all the troubles I cause – again, and thanks for all you've done and for all you're about to do.

Harry'

For a moment he didn't know if he should feel affected by the gratitude the boy showed towards him, if he should blame himself for the deep misjudgment he'd had, thinking of the boy as an ungrateful brat, if he should be angry at the brat for this ridiculous self blame, or if he should …

Sighing he shook his head and sat down at the table himself, carefully taking the ink-stained quill from the boy's loose hand. He took another piece of parchment from the boy's book bag, wondering how the child could find anything in the chaos that was said book bag, and dipping the quill into the ink pot he then started to write.

'Dear foolish child,'

He wrote, but then he blinked at the line and shaking his head at his own sentimentality, he added another word.

'Dear foolish child, son,'

Well, that would do, he thought and he even smiled. It was strange using this term towards the child, but then – it wasn't unpleasantly strange, just strange, and as the boy would be his son soon – well, it fit.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was an hour later that he finally shook the boy awake, after he had placed the quill back at the table, atop the parchment he just had written on and after he had folded the parchment Harry had written to shove it into the pocket of his robe. He surely did not do so out of sentimentality, as he easily could have left the parchment until Harry would give it to him, or as he easily could have placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. No – he only did so, because he hadn't corrected it yet and he didn't want it getting lost – or forgotten – before he had covered the blasted miscreant's composure it in red ink.

"It's late, Harry." He said while gently shaking the boy. "Get up, child … no, you can't sleep here at that table … you only would feel stiff and achy tomorrow … up you get, child … that's it … the mattress definitely will be more comfortable … what are you doing, child … no, you won't stay awake now … it's in the middle of the night … go back to sleep … just close your eyes brat …"

Well, never wake a peacefully sleeping child … that much was for sure and next time he would leave the blasted imp to sleep on the table for the entire night, enjoying the stiff and achy muscles the brat would suffer from the next day. What however didn't help him much right now … as the boy –

"Sir?"

"What is it, brat?" He asked with an annoyed sigh.

"What would have been if I had been sorted into your house?" The boy wanted to know, looking up at him sleepily.

"Then you would have been a Slytherin." He growled at the boy, not really sounding annoyed but rather good heartedly.

He could hear Theodore on his other side snickering softly at his response and with a frown he turned towards the other boy.

"One would think that small children such as you brats should be asleep at such an hour." He drawled. "Are you waiting for a bedtime story? Maybe a bottle of milk? And me covering you with your baby blanket?" This time it was Harry who snickered softly.

"Only if I get my comforter." The boy grinned cheekily at him – yes, so much for torturing children – it rather seemed to be the other way round right now, and them torturing him.

"Surely you are familiar enough with my person by now that you know you won't be so lucky." Severus Snape the dungeons bat drawled. "I would hide your comforter and let you alone with neither a bottle of milk nor your baby blanket to cuddle with."

"You're mean." Draco's voice piped up and the Potions Master groaned.

"That is my job, Mr. Malfoy." He growled. "How else could I ensure having a bit of fun?"

"So, torturing small children such as us is your idea of fun, Professor?" Theodore asked, giving a tired smile away.

"Actually yes – the smaller they are the more fun it is torturing them." Severus smirked.

"Sir?" Came Harry's voice again, and again it sounded too small for his liking. Not tiredly small but scared small, insecure small and he turned towards the teen.

"I would have been able to help you sooner." He simply answered, knowing that the boy would repeat his earlier question. "And never mind my motivations, my view of you or my emotions towards you, do not one second doubt the support I would have given."

"Would you really have known if I had been in your house?" The boy asked in his still so small voice and he wondered – not for the first time – what had caused that particular thought in the child's head. The boy had mentioned in this foolish letter of his that he should have listened to the sorting hat. But – the sorting hat had placed him in Gryffindor, not Slytherin.

"I would have known during the first week." He seriously answered. "And I would have taken actions to get you out of the Dursleys' house at once."

"Then I should have let the sorting hat place me in Slytherin." The boy murmured with a sigh that clearly spoke of regret.

Snape had been about to explain once more that he would have done so, never mind his view of him, that in fact as soon as he would have found out his view of him would have changed back then, just as it had changed right now in their present situation the moment he had found out, but upon the boy's words he stopped mid-thought and blinked at the teen, facing the child he had chosen to be his son, and he couldn't help gripping the small and thin shoulders with both his hands to look at him seriously, piercing him with his dark eyes, not caring right now that he startled the child.

"The sorting hat wanted to place you in Slytherin?" He asked, his voice incredulous, still blinking at the boy that only could give a scared nod away and it took him another few moments to understand the implications of Harry's words.

"Of all the stupid things you have done over the years … Merlin! … you could have been mine …" Snape did not say anything else but simply pulled the still startled child close and wrapped his arms around the skeletal frame. So that it had been what had been running through the boy's mind lately. So that it had been what had caused him to ask this question in his letter earlier. So that …

"What foolish notion had caused you to question the sorting hat's decision, child?" He asked a moment later, curiosity taking over.

"Well, in Diagon Alley, when Hagrid helped me getting my school things, he said that Voldemort had killed my parents and then I've heard that he had been in Slytherin and I didn't want to be in the same house as he had been. And on the train I've met Ron and he had been the first friend I've ever had and he had been sorted into Gryffindor."

"Both had been very understandable motivations, Harry and I apologize for questioning your reasoning." Severus said, massaging the boy's neck with his fingers. "It surely must have been very important to you having Ronald as a friend when you never before did have one and it only is logically that you did not want to be in the same house than the Dark Lord. I guess the thought of being in the same house as your parent's murderer had been would have been a horrified idea for anyone. And nevertheless – at the thought of what could have been if you had been in my house …"

"I'm sorry." Came the boy's words when he trailed off, not finishing his sentence, words that were merely a sob than actual words and he gripped both the boy's shoulders and held him at arms length so he could look at him closely.

"Harry, look at me." Severus demanded softly and Harry did as the Potions Master asked of him, looked up at the man and he was startled at how soft and gentle the dark eyes were, those black eyes that normally had been so cold and hard.

"None of this is your fault, child." He said. "Neither could you have known that something good could have come out of it if you had been in my house, nor could you help your gut feeling in the first place that simply told you to do the logical thing back then. Anyone would have chosen the same as have you. You did what you thought was the right thing. I only am glad that I found out now at least." He added, gently running his fingertips over the child's forehead. "And now go to sleep, you insufferable brat. And that goes for the two of you as well. And don't expect a goodnight story or a milk bottle – nor a comforter."

Harry smiled up at him, surprised but not uncomfortable with the man's long fingers brushing over his forehead. He could feel himself slipping into sleep, coaxed by Severus' gentle fingers, and he truly couldn't remember when he had felt more content.

"As long as he doesn't try providing us with nappies …" He could hear Theodore whispering to Draco while the man settled behind him, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him while settling down for sleeping, and he couldn't help smiling.

"Don't!" He heard Draco whispering back. "He'd done that when I was little and it still gives me the creeps."

"You know, Draco, I still do remember how to change nappies." He heard the man smirking. "I could try to re-freshen this particular skill if you are not quiet this instant."

"Good night, Severus." Came Draco's immediate reply.

"Good night, Professor." Theodore's voice answered at nearly the same time.

"Good night, Sir." Harry whispered quietly, smiling to himself.

"Good night, you insufferable brats."

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.

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.