This World of Glass by Whitetail
Summary: Third in the series Days We Learn From. In a darkening world where the war looms ahead, things couldn’t be more wrong. A new hand has been dealt out, and now Severus isn’t well, and this he knows. But what is it that is causing the fainting spells, and how long can he keep this a secret from his two adopted sons, Harry and Draco? More importantly, with the Dark Lord still furious over the discovery of Severus as a spy, how long can the little family continue to escape his clutches?
Categories: Misc > All written in Snape's POV, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Original Character
Snape Flavour: Snape is Loving
Genres: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe
Takes Place: 6th Year
Warnings: Character Death, Romance/Het, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: Days We Learn From
Chapters: 28 Completed: Yes Word count: 82971 Read: 92774 Published: 04 Dec 2011 Updated: 19 Apr 2012
Sleepwalker by Whitetail

I was rather surprised to find Minerva standing outside my door in her tartan dressing gown, looking tired. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that it was about four in the morning.

"Well?" I said impatiently, blinking in the light of the torches in the corridor as she stood before me. I did not take kindly to being woken at such an hour.

"Does Harry have a history of sleepwalking?" she asked abruptly.

"I've never caught him at it, if that's what you mean," I said.

"Hmm."

I scowled heavily. "Are you going to tell my why you need to know now, or are you just going to stand there?"

"I found him sleepwalking through the corridors, obviously," she said scathingly. "I would expect you to put two and two together faster, Severus."

"It's four in the morning Minerva, so obviously my brain is still thinking of my bed." I frowned after a moment, actually comprehending what she had said earlier. "He was sleepwalking?"

"Yes," she said. "Goodness knows whether or not he's wandered about like this before."

"I'll have to ask him if he ever did that at the Dursleys'," I muttered. "Thank you for telling me Minerva."

"You don't suppose that stress is causing this?"

"Stress?"

"Well, Harry's seemed a little bit ... tense lately. Even more so than when Albus started those lessons with him." Minerva was looking at me oddly. "All three of you seem a little bit tense, come to think of it."

I opened my mouth and closed it, not sure what to reply. I felt my legs weaken, but not because of her statement, and more because I was growing steadily dizzier as I stood in the doorway.

Minerva looked at me pointedly.

"Just the general atmosphere, all the attacks. Everything that he knows he must do," I said softly after a moment's thought. "Draco's worried about Harry, as am I. It is difficult not to be."

"Alright then," Minerva told me, though I knew she suspected something more. I thought that she must be waiting for me to tell her, but right then I hadn't the strength. She continued once she saw that I had nothing left to say. "Sorry to bother you at this time, but I had to know. I'm very concerned for him too."

And she left, and I have to say I was very glad she did, for the dizziness continued to grow and my lungs were tight. She must have been greatly worried to come to see me at this time of night. Then again, weren't we all?

As I lay awake in bed, I wondered whether Harry's sudden sleepwalking had anything to do with me being ill. It was a great stress on both of the boys, who had lost their families before, and were in the process of losing part of a new one now.

"Lily, why now?" I moaned before rolling onto my side with a series of gut-wrenching coughs.

***

I was surprised when Draco knocked on the door of my classroom while I was doing a few spells to tidy up the area after morning classes. I had been expecting him to go straight to lunch, as he usually did. And, seeing as I had seen neither him nor Harry (whom I had wanted to talk with about the sleepwalking episode that had occurred the previous night) at breakfast, I had assumed he would be extra hungry. Instead, he looked rather put out as he stood in the doorway of my classroom. I told him he could come in, and he closed the door behind him. Something was wrong, that was for sure. He looked strangely dishevelled. Perhaps it was because he was growing again; much to my amazement when I looked at him I saw that his robes were a few inches above his ankle already. His pale face stood out starkly against the brightly coloured S.P.E.W. badge upon his chest, which seemed larger than any I had seen Hermione sporting. I wondered how she managed to convince him to wear one.

"Aren't you the protester as of late," I commented dryly, acknowledging the badge as I put away a box of ingredients.

"That's not why I'm wearing the badge, Dad," Draco said peevishly. I was caught off guard slightly by him calling me Dad, but he didn't appear to notice he had said it. So I let him go on, noting that I would have to think about that later.

"I'm sorry Draco. Tell me, what is the reason?"

He let out a shuddering breath, looking as though he might just be ready to break down. He unpinned the badge, revealing a Gryffindor crest.

"Why are you wearing Gryffindor robes?" I asked, bewildered. "Did the house elves sew the wrong crest on your new set?"

"They're Harry's," he said grouchily. "I woke up this morning and found all my clothes gone. I don't know what happened to them. They did it just to get to me, I'm sure of it. That and they probably thought I wasn't worthy of Slytherin colours after the Quidditch match. Not that I care!"

"Those little bastards," I said angrily. Draco looked simultaneously shocked and delighted that I had bequeathed such a name upon his tormentors. But the laughter from his eyes was gone quickly.

"Why didn't you come to me this morning?" I continued once I could think coherent thoughts.

"I woke up late," Draco admitted. "I sent a note to Harry to see if I could borrow a set of his robes. Hermione suggested the badge, so I wouldn't get beat up for having the wrong house colours. Mind you, after last Quidditch match I don't think a Gryffindor crest could make matters all that much worse." He smiled painfully. After a second however, he added quite cheerfully, "but I've been made an honorary lion by all of the Gryffindors. They practically love me now! Oh, and one of the first year Slytherins had the guts to stand up for a muggle born the other day too. See, some good did come of it." He swelled with pride.

"Well, at least there's that, then." I had suspected as much, seeing as the Gryffindors (besides Harry and Hermione, of course) had been treating him so well as of late, even going so far as waving him over to their house table at meals. "I will search the Slytherin common rooms now, and then call your dorm mates to a meeting in my office," I said, emphasizing the last few words for effect. "Stealing is not tolerated at Hogwarts, especially if it is as you suspect it to be, and not in fact a student in need doing the taking because they are too afraid to ask for assistance."

"Thanks," muttered Draco.

"You have transfiguration this afternoon, do you not?"

"Yes."

"I'll send Minerva a note if I can locate your things, so you can come down to put on your own robes. And you're welcome - so stop trying to thank me. Now go be a teenager and shovel down some food." He closed his mouth and quit trying to sneak a thank you in between my sentences, and despite everything Draco laughed at my comment, and with a smile he left the room. That boy amazed me sometimes. I wished I could have been that way as a teen, but I let things get to me too much. Draco was strong, stronger than they thought. Harry and I knew that, and I supposed Harry must be stronger than I thought too. We all were, when we needed to be.

Once I found them, I nearly shouted myself hoarse at the culprits who stole Draco's things. It turned out to be the whole lot that shared his dorm, but only Crabbe was too stupid to keep his mouth shut. I suspected they were very angry with him. Needless to say, I was quite glad that I found out who did it, as I really, really enjoyed shouting at them. I shouldn't have enjoyed it that much, but I did. Luckily they had only hidden all his things in various places around the school, and under many threats retrieved them for me. Draco was happy to have his robes back, and the Slytherins seemed temporarily cowed by the detentions and shouting.

I only wished I could solve Harry's sleepwalking problem so easily. I talked to him that evening about it.

"I sometimes would sleepwalk at the Dursleys' when I was little," Harry said to me over a cup of tea. "I used to get into so much trouble for it, because my magic would open the cupboard door and I'd end up walking around the house. I only really did it when I was really tired from being given a lot of work, and Aunt Petunia soon figured out how much was too much to give, until I got a little older."

"How young were you when you last remember doing it?" I asked curiously.

"Er, almost six I think?" Harry replied, stirring a bit more sugar into his tea.

"You haven't since?"

"Not that I know of." He shrugged his shoulders.

I hummed thoughtfully to myself. "Minerva said she thinks it might be stress."

Harry looked at me quizzically, as though asking me if I was talking about his problems to everyone.

"Minerva was the one that led you back to your bed. She tried to wake you, but you were too out of it. She informed me of it late last night. We are the only ones to know, I assure you."

"Oh," Harry said, looking relieved. "She thinks it's stress?"

"Yes, and I think she has a valid point." I sighed softly. I lowered my voice slightly and continued. "Do you think you could be sleepwalking because of what's happening to me?"

"I'm fine Dad, no really, I'm okay," Harry said defensively, though he sounded almost like he was pleading me to believe him.

"You don't have to be alright all the time, you know," I said gently, not wanting him to make the same mistake I had for years. You can only hold something in for so long, and that was a hard lesson for me to learn. "It's okay if you're a bit of a mess. You don't have to be so brave about it."

"If you're so composed why shouldn't I be?" I was given a defiant look. "I'm not scared, or anything, if that's what you mean."

I rubbed my temples. "You're not scared at all?"

"N-No," Harry said, voice trembling a little bit.

"Well, I'm scared," I muttered back to him, forcing myself to be honest with him. We would get nowhere if I was not. "I'm a mess sometimes. You don't have to be put together all the time."

Harry let out a quavering breath and said, "Alright, I'm scared too."

We both sat in silence for a moment or two.

"I think the sleepwalking thing was because of that," Harry admitted to me, voice so quiet it seemed as though he were afraid to break the silence.

"I'm worried you will hurt yourself," I said to him. "I was thinking it might be a good idea to lock your dormitory door at night, so you can't leave. That spiral staircase isn't easy to go down asleep."

"Dad?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"What's going to ... to happen to me and Draco, if ... if you -" Tears filled his eyes, and one escaped into his cold tea. It fell with a soft splash, the sound lost quickly in the dampened silence.

"I asked Black if he would take the both of you," I said quietly. "He says he will."

Harry looked a little comforted, but still a bit of a wreck.

"What do you think the chances are, of you ... you know."

"I don't know," I whispered back, hating the lie but hating the truth more. I feared the truth too much to speak it. "Not good."

"Can I stay here tonight, with you?" Harry asked abruptly. "There aren't any classes tomorrow."

I paused for a moment, and upon seeing his bloodshot eyes, the dark circles showing from beneath his glasses, I said yes.

He tried to smile, and then he laid his head on the table, looking out the little window to a grey, clouded sky. After sending Minerva a note informing her of Harry's whereabouts, I got my book and I sat down on the sofa. In a little while Harry came to join me, just sitting next to me and staring into the red and orange of the fire. Despite his best efforts, he soon fell asleep thanks to the pleasant heat, his head lolling over and eventually coming to a stop on my shoulder as he slumped sideways into me. I let him stay there for a long time, my book closed in my lap as I listened to his soft breathing. He was so big. Where was the little baby I had seen so long ago in the cot at the ruined cottage? Where was the little first year that I did not understand at the time, the boy I saw right through when he had arrived, scared and lost? Where was the little de-aged Harry, four years old, scared and skittish, but with Lily's sweet smile? Where was the skinny lad who had come with me to sign the adoption papers? Oh, that skinny boy was long gone in the physical sense. Harry was no longer a boy, even if he looked so much like one as he slept with his head against my shoulder. The reality was that every day he grew closer to being a man.

I had had to teach him to shave the other day. I made him, because that teen facial hair was horrendous. I smiled a little as I thought of how horrified he had been, having to get rid of it. He was proud of it, every bit as proud of his fuzzy, greasy mockery of a moustache as I had been at that age. But I had made him shave it off, and I was pretty sure everyone, save Harry, was thanking me. I had yet to do this with Draco however, who had little facial hair to speak of, much to his chagrin. I was not surprised, as Lucius had been the same way. He had done everything to speed the process, and still it wasn't until his early twenties that he could grow anything substantial that didn't look like some sort of fuzzy caterpillar died on his face. I recalled once, just to spite him, I had grown an impressive handlebar moustache and goatee, and needless to say he threatened to hex it off until I got rid of it.

Harry snored lightly in my ear, bringing me back to the present. I took his glasses off, which were hanging off his face sideways. I folded them and put them on the end table. I sighed a little, and put my arm around Harry's shoulders. He let out a little puff of breath and relaxed into me. I relished these moments, which came few and far between. However much I hated to admit it, I was a little annoyed I had missed the whole cuddly stage with my boys, as I had pretty much jumped straight to the teen years. Though admittedly, Draco and I had spent a fair amount of time together when he was young, so I didn't miss out on all of that. I sometimes found myself wishing for those limited number of days when Harry and Hermione had been de-aged and we would sit down and read a book. The warmth of their small sides pressed up against mine was comforting ... just to know that someone, however little, was beside me. Not that I'd ever admit this to anyone else. If anything like that got out, knowing my luck, I'd have crying first years coming to my door asking me to read to them because they missed their parents. The thought made me snicker lightly, but reminded me once again why I always made sure that everyone but those closest to me believed I abhorred physical contact. It was just easier.

It wasn't for a long time that I got up. I decided it would be kinder to Harry to just let him sleep on the sofa, and so I nudged his legs up onto the cushions and covered him with a blanket. He must not have slept well as of late, for he barely moved. Although, he did let out another small snore that sounded comically like a thank you. With a slight smile I stretched and made my way to my room to turn in as well.

The End.
End Notes:
Well there you go. Some fluff to keep you guys from pulling out the unforgivables and trying to smite me for making it all so depressing. ;)


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