Severus Snape was not happy. He'd searched for Harry for almost an hour in the darkness after killing the Kappa despite his injured shoulder and the cuts on his neck, and had found no sign of him. He hoped the boy hadn't encountered another Kappa or drowned. He'd looked in every room off of this corridor and gone down two other corridors filled with water before deciding he'd have to rest for a little while before looking for Potter again. He'd told the boy to get to higher ground, but the nearest staircase leading up had been blocked by debris and the next nearest one was on the other side of the castle, unless the boy had gone up one of the hidden staircases... he hadn't thought of that. He'd have to search them after he'd had at least an hour to rest. Swimming took a lot of strength, but on an empty stomach it felt like a near impossible task. If only he had some gilly weed, he wouldn't have to worry so much about his head slipping under the water and the webbed fingers and feet would help him make time through the water.
If Kappas had made it into the school from the lake, Severus wondered what other creatures had come in too... he also wondered why he hadn't seen any merpeople yet, surely they'd take the opportunity to explore the castle? Or maybe they were already making themselves at home down in the Dungeons or Great Hall, he mused. Perhaps it was the hunger or exhaustion, but his mind suddenly started to wander, and he imagined himself having to kick a mer-person out of his office when this whole thing was over.
Thinking of merpeople as he held onto a torch bracket near the ceiling in the flooded corridor, Severus started to feel anxious. Mermaids were known to falsely seduce men and lead them to their doom, promising them all kinds of things just to get them into the water where they would drown. He was definitely uncomfortable still being in the water at that moment. He would have performed the Bubble head charm if he knew how, but it was one of those advanced charms he'd never mastered. Eyes scanning the dark corridor and ears perked, Severus pushed away from the wall and continued his search for Potter and any dry ground where he could rest. He had passed several hidden corridors and he hoped one of them had a staircase leading up. If he could let his lead laden arms rest for just a little while, then he could continue on, he thought.
It was at least twenty minutes before he made it slowly back to the first corridor behind a tapestry. He struggled to pull the tapestry aside so he could shine the light of his wand into the narrow space. The wand light immediately fell over a form floating face down and he let the tapestry drop, falling back and slipping under the water briefly. No, no that wasn't a student. It wasn't Potter. He squeezed his eyes closed. It looked like the fifth year. He had to look again and steeled himself for what, or who, he would find on the other side of the tapestry. Taking several deep breaths, he pulled the soggy tapestry back and shined his light in again. The form was still there. His mind was not playing tricks on him.
Easing himself around the tapestry and into the corridor, he swallowed and reached out for the lifeless form. It was wearing Potter's ragged blue t-shirt. He rolled the form over and felt like vomiting. It was Harry. But, how? Had another creature gotten him?
He turned away and struggled within himself for long moments. He had let Potter die. After seven some odd days, or had it been 8? 10? He didn't know anymore because his head was spinning and his heart was beating uncomfortably fast. He, Severus, had let the child drown.
Opening his eyes and navigating the water to turn back to him again, Severus waved up his wand light, though he felt unwilling to do so, and scruitinized the boy's body, looking for any sign of what had happened aside from the obvious. There were no marks on his neck, no scratches, nothing at all. His face wasn't even blue. Severus frowned. His flesh still looked relatively colorful in fact, as if this had happened only moments ago. Reaching to the boy's neck, he felt for a pulse but there was none. His eyes roamed the boy's face for any signs of life, and as they reached his forehead, he paused. Where was his scar?
Suddenly and without warning Severus lifted his wand, canceled the lumos and shouted, "Ridikulous!" He gave a humorless laugh as Harry's face shifted into a shapeless blob that Severus found anything but funny. The boy melted into a shadowy Boggart, and Severus sighed, reaching up to run a hand down the front of his face. He hoped never to repeat that experience again. The fact that the boggart had turned into Potter's lifeless body surprised Severus and he had to really stop for a moment and think about it. It had always been Lily's dead body the few times he'd encountered a Boggart since her death. That it had changed to her son's lifeless body told him something he wasn't sure he wanted to admit. He'd come to care for the boy. It was either that or he was stressed out, tired, weak from hunger and lack of a proper night's rest, cold, and scared if he'd let himself admit it. Surely it was the second option. Beyond performing his duty as staff, he'd never cared for the boy at all.
The boy was selfish, ungrateful, foolhardy, and more trouble than he was... well he was certainly selfish and foolhardy. He hadn't acted ungrateful when he'd saved him though. In fact, he'd seemed relieved. And the Gryffindor was a lot of trouble, but he was also alone if his ramblings meant what Severus thought they might. If his family had treated him horribly, and he had no parents to fall back on, he had probably raised himself. It would certainly explain why he did foolish, dangerous things on a regular basis. It had come to the point in staff meetings that if the Headmaster or another professor announced something like, "two students were awarded points for fighting the troll Quirrel let in," or, "a student has gone missing," or, "a student was found out of bed at three am," it was a given that it was Potter. Staff had stopped asking who it was or why Gryffindor was suddenly missing forty or fifty points or suddenly ahead a hundred points. It was always Potter.
Severus rubbed his eyes and let go of the wall sconce he'd been holding onto to keep himself afloat. He needed rest, but knew he needed to find the lost Gryffindor. One more corridor, he told himself, just one, and then he'd rest whether he found the boy or not. It was going to take the last of it out of him to stack furniture to make a solid dry place to sleep.
* * *
Harry shivered in the darkness. His stomach had long since stopped hurting from hunger, and now he could just feel his body shutting down. He'd slept on the floating table, but he wasn't sure for how long. It could have been for days or only minutes. He wished there was a window to see the sunlight by if for no other reason than so he could count the days. Perhaps Snape was right and it was a foolish thing to try to get into the flooded levels of the castle. Harry wasn't really any warmer here as the water sapped the heat from everything, and they hadn't found any more food. He was still sick and coughing too. The difference now was that he didn't have Snape.
The man was sullen and liked Harry to be quiet and leave him alone, but Harry still missed his company and the safety of being with him. When Snape was there it meant Harry didn't have to make decisions, and that when Harry did make a decision and it was the wrong one, that there was someone else there who would fix it or make it better. Harry also missed his warmth. The night Snape had held him when he was sick and crying was the only time since the flood that Harry had felt warm. It was also the only time Harry had felt cared for. No one had ever just taken care of him like that before.
Sure, Mrs. Weasley doted on him and made sure he got a sweater every Christmas, and he loved staying with the Weasleys, but it was different somehow in a way Harry didn't quite understand. He wished he could live with them, and took every opportunity to hang out with Ron and his siblings. He wanted to be part of their family so much that he inserted himself into it where he could. He knew when everyone's birthday was and did what he could to get a card and gift for each of them on birthdays and Christmas. He soaked up every story Ron told of what it was like growing up at the Burrow. He even knew who all the Weasley's were related to. But he wasn't a Weasley... couldn't be a Weasley, and wasn't allowed to live with them according to the Headmaster. It saddened him that when he got in trouble at school an owl was never sent off to a family of his own, because he didn't have anyone that cared for him. Snape didn't care for him either, but he certainly cared when Harry got into trouble. He made it a point in fact to ‘teach Harry a lesson' when he could. Harry hated detention with Snape, but at least the man took note that he was there, that he was alive, and that he was in trouble. No one else ever seemed to notice.
Harry shifted on his table to look at the ceiling in the darkness. The table rocked and then settled. Harry sighed and allowed his mind to just be blank for several moments. He didn't want to think about Snape right now, because being alone in the darkness like this was scary, and thinking of Snape meant he was thinking of the safety blanket he didn't have. The emptiness of his mind was frightening though, so Harry conjured up the memory of the man shouting at him for going out into the watery corridor on his own.
"Lumos," Harry said, lighting the tip of his wand. The corridor was the same as it had been an hour ago when he'd last lit the wand. Nothing had changed. "Nox." The darkness came in and swallowed him whole again. "Lumos." Nothing had changed. "Nox." Harry rolled the wand between his fingers and started over again. "Lumos. Nox. Lumos. Nox." Nothing ever changed, though he wished it would.