“Where could Harry be?” Minerva frantically asked. “The portraits said they haven’t seen him.”
She was pacing back and forth, too antsy to stand still much less sit down. Her lion cub was somewhere alone in the castle.
“Calm down, my dear,” Albus said. “I am sure that Harry is safe. He’s just in another part of the castle, and I have checked the third floor, so I know he’s not there.”
“Well, that’s something,” Minerva said.
A doe Patronus came through the door, and it pranced over to Albus and then disappeared.
“Minerva,” Albus said, walking towards his Deputy Headmistress. “All is fine. Harry is safe.”
“Where is he?” Minerva asked.
“I will see to him,” Albus soothed, giving her a calming smile. “Why don’t you go back to your chambers and get some rest. Harry is fine. You don’t have to worry about the child.”
Minerva nodded and walked out the door.
___000___000___000
It took a while before Harry calmed down. Severus sat at his desk for twenty minutes before the child’s cries turned to hiccups and sniffling. Severus tried to shift Harry so that he could push the child off his lap. The boy refused to let Severus go, so the Potion Master carried the child to his chambers.
He was now sitting in his chair.
There was a knock before the door opened, and Albus, as usual, walked in without being invited.
“Well, doesn’t everything look tranquil?” Albus said. His eyes twinkled.
“No, it’s not,” Severus groused. “I can’t keep doing this. He can’t want me.”
“Now, Severus,” Albus said, sitting down on the chair across from him. “Harry has chosen you. He wants you to be there for him. He knows that you will protect him. You’ve been doing it since the term started.”
Severus sneered and turned away from his adopted father to look at the fire. He didn’t want to be responsible for someone. The last time he was, it didn't work out. They still died.
“Where’s Minerva?” Severus asked after a short pause.
“Probably in bed by now,” Albus said matter-a-factly. “Where else would she be? When she heard Harry was safe, she retired to her chambers.”
“Are you taking Potter to his dorm?” Severus asked.
“No,” Albus answered. “He will stay here. He’s already asleep. He’s comfortable. And it is high time you step up. You both need each other. Stop fighting it.”
“I am not fighting-”
“Severus,” Albus said, cutting Severus midsentence. His voice no longer had that grandfather tone. Severus knew that tone all too well.
“Look at the child,” Albus continued. “Look how you’ve taken care of him. I will not allow you to hurt this child because you are afraid of allowing yourself to feel again. Last time, there was nothing you could have done. Don’t let this child suffer because of your stubbornness to open up your heart.”
Before Severus could respond to Albus, the Headmaster turned and walked to the door. “Good night, son.” Albus walked out. The door made a small click in the silence.
“Sir.” Harry’s small voice broke the silence in the room.
Severus looked down at the child still cuddled on his chest. He was surprised the boy was awake.
“If you don’t want me,” Harry continued, pushing against his Professor’s chest to get a better look, “I’ll leave.”
Severus looked at the child. The man was at war with himself. Part of him wanted to protect the small child as it seemed that no one has ever done it since Lily died for him. Then there was the small part of him that felt he wasn’t worthy enough to care for such an innocent child.
This wasn’t the Potter he expected to grace these halls. Harry didn’t care about fame or notoriety. From what Severus had seen, the child just wanted someone on his side. Someone he could rely on. He couldn’t be that person. He just couldn’t.
Harry slid off Severus’ lap, pulling the man out of his musings. The child headed for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Severus asked, standing up.
Harry turned and looked back at his Professor, wide-eyed.
Not being obscured by the oversized wired-rimmed circle glasses, the similarities in Lily’s eyes were uncanny. Severus held back his gasp at how much Harry had features that not only looked like James but Lily as well.
“I-uh was just going back to the Tower,” Harry stammered, sadly. He didn’t want to leave.
“You will not,” Severus sternly said. “You will march yourself to the bathroom,” pointing down the small hall further into the chamber, “take a shower and get ready for bed. There will be a toothbrush and a pair of pajamas on the sink.”
Harry just stared not believing what he was hearing. He didn’t want to be a burden, but the thought of staying with his Professor filled the child with a lot of joy. But he didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“But, sir-”
“Now, Potter,” Severus snapped.
Harry started moving towards the designated area, trying hard not to be excited because he was going to stay.
“The last door on the left,” Severus called out. Then put his head in his hand when he was alone in the sitting room.
___000___000___000
Harry closed the door to the bathroom. As he was told, there was a pair of pajamas and a toothbrush sitting on the small counter by the sink basin.
Harry didn’t know how to take what was happening. Harry wasn’t asleep. He was just relaxing and the safety of being in his Professor’s arms. Hearing the Headmaster, he pretended to be asleep when he and his Professor started talking.
There were a lot of confusing emotions that were said while the Headmaster was here. It sounded like Professor Snape didn’t want him in his chambers, but he didn’t push him away. And when Harry tried to leave, the Professor was adamant that he stay and get cleaned up.
Harry didn’t know how to take these mixed feelings. He didn’t want to be a burden to Professor Snape, but the thought of not being with him hurt more. He didn’t want what his Uncle Vernon said to be true.
After getting out of the shower and drying off, out of habit, he reached for his glasses and remembered that they were on Professor Snape’s desk. His eyesight was bad, and the glasses only helped a little. He learned how to recognize items from their shapes and colors. Harry learned at an early age how to get around with his blurry vision. Twenty minutes after going into the bathroom, Harry was walking out in fresh pajamas.
Severus looked at the child; his face scrunched up looking at the child’s hair.
“There has got to be something to deal with that bird’s nest you call hair,” Severus said, dryly. “Come here.”
Harry walked over to the Potions Master.
Severus could see that the child’s hair was still wet. He accio’ed a towel. The last thing he needed was for Potter to get sick.
“Did you even dry it?” Severus asked, rubbing the towel over Harry’s damp hair. “If you don’t want to get sick, dry your hair properly.”
Harry stood silently waiting for Snape to finish, rubbing his eye with his small balled-up fist. He was starting to get tired. He wanted to cherish this feeling he was having. Feeling his Professor drying his hair so he wouldn’t get sick made him feel something he’d never felt: special. Harry just stood there and listened to Snape fuss.
“Yes, sir,” Harry mumbled in response.
“Let’s find you something to sleep on,” Severus said, absentmindedly. Transfiguring his sofa into a cot along with a blanket and pillow.
Holding up one corner of the blanket, “Get in,” Severus ordered.
Harry wasted no time climbing on the bed. Laying down on his side, Harry looked up at his Professor, “Goodnight, sir.”
“Go to sleep, Potter,” Severus said as he tucked the cover around the child’s shoulders. “You know where the bathroom is if you need it.”
Harry nodded his response.
Severus dimmed the lights until there was a soft glow around the room. It wasn’t pitch-black, but the lights were low enough that Harry could sleep comfortably.
“Don’t get up wandering around my chambers,” Severus said.
Harry didn’t respond as he was already asleep.
___000___000___000
Bill walked into his small office at Gringotts with a lot on his mind. He didn’t know how the Goblins were going to deal with what he discovered. He wondered if they would even believe him.
His meeting with Professor Dumbledore was extremely enlightening.
“I remember putting those runes on it,” Albus said reminiscing. “Your uncles were there as well. James and Lily wanted Harry to be well taken care of. With the war starting to come to fruition, I think they knew that their days would be numbered. I think everybody did.”
“So, what did you and my uncles do?” Bill asked, taking another sip from his tea.
“The runes your uncles designed were to make sure that only the person who the Will was for could open it,” Albus said. “My addition was making the runes stronger.”
Albus picked up the aforementioned parchment and waved his hand over it.
“The runes have not been altered,” Albus said. “Whoever wanted to get this opened tried to break it, but couldn’t.”
“So, you think that someone was trying to steal from the Potters?” Bill asked.
“I’m not sure. It was a horrible event. The death of the Potters and the attack on the Longbottoms were not the only things that happened. Your uncles were also murdered.”
“That’s when they died?” Bill asked. His brow furrowed.
“Didn’t you know that?” Albus asked, tilting his head, slightly.
“I…I never asked mum,” Bill sighed. “We never wanted to bring up our uncles because we didn’t want to see her sad. I mean we knew that they helped fight during the war, but never any details.”
“Voldemort’s followers were going after the families that were in the Light,” Albus said.
“So, you think that what’s going on with this parchment is because of what happened then?”
“No,” Albus said, shaking his head. “The parchment had to have been after.”
“I don’t understand,” Bill confessed.
“Let’s go back,” Albus said. “The Potters have been killed. That would mean that this Will should go through the Goblins to be sent out to whomever it is supposed to go.”
Bill nodded his agreement.
“But something had to delay it,” Albus continued. “Since we now have the parchment in hand.”
“But Goblin magic is strong,” Bill said. “There isn’t a creature stronger.”
“Yes, there are,” Albus said, looking over his half-moon glasses.
Bill thought about it for a second. Then it came to him.
“Elves.”
Albus nodded.
“But elves wouldn’t do something against a wizard or Goblin,” Bill explained.
“What if it was ordered?” Albus suggested. “Say someone wanted that Will. Voldemort was gone. What better way to get revenge on who ‘killed’ him than going after The Boy Who Lived?”
“But they couldn’t,” Bill summarized.
“Not with the protection your uncles and I put on there.” Albus agreed. “So the next best thing was done.”
Bill didn’t like what those thoughts implied. The scandal wouldn’t be the only problem that would have to be handled, but the ramifications of having a blemish on the integrity of Gringotts.
“I have to go,” Bill said, standing up. He grabbed the parchment and headed for the door. “Thank you, Professor.”
Bill was sitting behind his desk, looking at the parchment. He knew Griphook was on his way. He was not looking forward to telling him that there was a breach in Gringotts.
___000___000___000
Harry woke up feeling the best he’d felt since the first night he slept in the dorm. He stretched and realized that he wasn’t in his dorm room. He reached for his glasses a little surprised that they weren’t where they should be. Looking around the blurry room, he remembered what happened last night.
Biting his lip, he sat up pulling his legs from under the covers. He remembered the conversation between his Professor and the Headmaster; he wanted, no, wished, that Professor Snape wanted him. But the last thing Harry wanted was to be a burden. He was told all his life that he was a burden to his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He didn’t like them, and they hated him. But his Professor was his safety. He didn’t want to lose his safety. So if it meant that he had to leave so he wouldn’t be a burden, then that’s what he would do. He wanted Professor Snape to always be his safety. And Harry would do anything to keep it.
Harry got up and started fixing the cot. Maybe if I cleaned the room as best as possible, I won’t be a bother to Professor, Harry thought.
Harry didn’t know how to turn the cot back into the sofa it was. But he knew how to make up the bed so it looked like it was never slept in. No wrinkles. He needed to get his glasses from the Professor’s office. When he walked over to the side door, he tried to turn the knob. It was locked. How was he supposed to get his glasses? He started biting his lip. He didn’t want to burden his Professor. He had to make this right. He’d worry about that later. He needed to get ready. After doing his morning ablutions, he looked around and saw that his clothes from last night were not where he left them. This time he was slightly chewing on his lip. Not a burden. He had to make it so he wasn’t taking away his room with his things.
What was he going to do? He didn’t want to be a burden by leaving his clothes and taking the pajamas. The only option was to leave and somehow get the pajamas back to his Professor.
Harry walked back to the front room and saw that his robe wasn’t there as well. Tears started to blur his vision more than his bad eyesight. He would just have to leave. He ran to the door. Before he could touch the door knob…
“Running again, Potter.”
Harry froze with his hand still on the doorknob. He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t want to be a bother either.
“To me, Potter,” Severus said.
Harry slowly turned around and saw his Professor in the same house robe he wore last night. It was strange seeing his Professor in anything other than his teaching robes.
Severus sat down in his wing-back chair.
Harry walked over to Snape as if facing the gallows. His shoulders hunched. His head bowed. He had his fingers tightly wound in the fabric of the pajama top. A few of the bottom buttons popped open from his ministrations.
Severus watched the child come to him, shaking his head. Why did it have to be him? Why did he have these feelings of protection for the boy? The boy was too pure for someone like him to care for the child.
“I swear, Potter,” Severus said, reaching out to the boy when he was close enough. “If you keep this up, you’ll either lose your fingers from blood loss or destroy your clothes.”
Harry’s head shot up and looked at his Professor. When he felt his safety’s fingers, he didn’t realize that he had his fingers wrapped as tightly as he did until he felt small tingling sensations in his fingers.
Once the child’s fingers were free, Severus softly pulled free the child’s bottom lip.
A harrumph sound came from the Potions Professor when he saw the damage to the boy’s lip.
“What am I going to do to keep you from eating your lips?” Severus asked.
Severus accio’ed the bruised balm he’d been treating the child with and put more on the boy’s lip.
Harry was too stunned to answer. This was not what he was expecting to happen.
“If you’re through gawking, can you tell me where you were planning on going in your pajamas and without your glasses?” Severus asked dryly, raising one shapely brow.
Harry stood in front of his Professor with his jaw slacked. This was not what he expected. He didn’t want to be a burden to Professor Snape, but Snape wasn’t acting like he was a burden. Harry was confused, but he knew he could talk to him.
“I don’t want to be a burden, but I don’t want to lose you,” Harry rushed out.
Severus didn’t know how to take that statement. The child declared that he wanted to stay with him. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to lose what was growing between him and Harry. But he also knew he was no good for Harry. There was too much bad in his past that prevented him from giving the child what he needed despite what Albus and Minerva said. Severus didn’t know how to respond to the child’s declaration, so he decided to ignore it for now.
“Go get dressed, Potter,” Severus said. Before Harry could say anything, he continued, “Your clothes are on the sink now.”
Harry walked toward the bathroom.
Severus felt himself sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time. What was he to do? He wasn’t the right person for Harry. He was too dark.
___000___000___000
After retrieving his robe and glasses, Harry headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry had a lot on his mind, and he didn’t know how to take what happened in Professor’s chambers last night and this morning. Professor Snape never replied to his confession of his worries about how things were between them. So many things didn’t make sense to him. Was he a burden? The more he thought about it, he could admit to himself that he honestly didn’t know.
“Oi, Harry!”
Harry turned to see Ron jogging towards him.
“Hey, Ron,” Harry said.
“Hey,” Ron said back. “Where you been?”
“Professor Snape,” Harry answered.
“You had detention with Snape? This early?” Ron exclaimed. “Blimey, Harry. Does that man ever give you a break? Come on.”
Harry didn’t bother to dissuade his friend from his assumptions. There was no point since Harry didn’t understand what was going on between him and Professor Snape. Harry didn’t have to worry about answering his best mate’s question since his best mate was talking too much for Harry to get a word in. Not that it bothered him.
___000___000___000
The day was an unusual day. Rumors were going around the school that Professor Snape wasn’t his usual harsh self. He seemed distracted. Though there had not been any potion mishaps, the students were scared to have the old Professor Snape come back, they made sure they did their best throughout their class time.
During lunch, Professor Snape’s attitude towards his classes spread like wildfire. The Gryffindors and Slytherins were upset that none of the years had Potions. Though the other Houses didn’t let them believe it was an easy day.
An inattentive Snape is just as scary as an attentive one. He was like a ticking time bomb; you didn’t know what would set the Professor off.
Albus and Minerva got wind of Severus’ attitude. It began to worry Minerva. It had been a long time since he acted this distracted. Severus came to breakfast and lunch but hardly ate anything.
When Severus left the head table, Minerva whispered to Albus, “Albus, I’m worried about Severus.”
“He’s got a lot on his mind,” Albus answered.
“Even when the Dark Lord was active,” Minerva said, “he wasn’t this despondent.”
“Just let him be,” Albus placated Minerva, patting her on her arm. “You know how Severus is. He will come to us if it is too much.”
Minerva sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”
___000___000___000
The day wasn’t any better for Harry. He had a lot on his mind. He didn’t know how to process what was going on. His safety would help him and take care of him. But he didn’t want to be a burden to him. Harry refused to jeopardize what he had with Professor Snape. And if that meant staying away, then so be it, that is what he would do.
Ron tried to talk to him during the day, and Harry tried to contribute to the conversation, but he just didn’t have the strength to be engaging.
Ron decided to just be with Harry. He figured his friend had a lot on his mind and didn’t feel like talking. Ron understood those feelings; people didn’t want to talk sometimes. He felt like that with his brother, especially the twins.
It was the first-year Gryffindors’ and Slytherins’ last class: Defense. This was the first time that Harry got animated. They were going to practice a stinging hex.
Ron was excited just as much as Harry. He was happy to see a smile on his friend’s face.
They were instructed to get into groups of four. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were in a group together.
“Now,” Quirrell instructed, “you w-will t-try to-to sting a p-p-person in your group. You all kn-kn-know the enca-ca-canta-ta-tation. B-begin.”
All the students started saying the word causing someone in their group to get stung. It was a harmless spell. Actually, it only gave your opponent a slight tickling feeling. Smiles and laughter filled the classroom.
Quirrell walked around the room checking on each student, making sure they were pronouncing the word correctly or doing the correct wand movements.
Hermonie just finished hexing Ron and Harry. Both boys were laughing. It was Harry’s turn again to hex someone. Harry pointed his wand at Neville and said the word.
What happened next surprised everyone. Neville collapsed on the floor writhing in pain. His screams were heard throughout the classroom. Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed to Neville’s side but didn’t know how to help their friend.
“Mr. P-p-potter,” Quirrell harshly called out. “What d-d-did you do? How d-d-dare you use a-a-a curse like th-that. Finite Incantatem.”
“I-I didn’t,” Harry squeaked. “I promise.”
Neville’s screams quieted. There was only his sobbing that surrounded the room.
Everyone stopped practicing to see what was going on.
“Ms. Gr-granger,” Quirrell said. “Go to the Inf-f-firmary and get Madam Pomfrey. Be qu-quick about it.”
Hermione rushed out of the room.
Quirrell turned his attention to Harry.
Harry knew that kind of look. Nothing good ever came from that look. Inch by inch, Harry began backing up.
“Don’t move, Potter!” Quirrell shouted.
Harry froze where he stood. Too afraid to even breathe loudly.
Everyone in the room was silent. No one had ever heard the Defense Professor shout.
“Class dismissed.”
Everyone except Harry and Ron packed their belongings and rushed out of the room.
“You t-t-too, Mr. Weasley,” Quirrell ordered.
“But-”
“Now.”
Ron and Harry looked at each other. Ron wanted to stay with his friend. He knew Harry didn’t try to hurt Neville. Something had to have been wrong. Harry said the same word that the others did.
Ron packed his things, looked at Harry’s frightful face, and walked out of the room.
Harry was scared. It had been a long time since he was around this kind of anger. He hoped he didn’t get a beating. Harry didn’t want to trust anyone but his Professor to discipline him.
Quirrell was about to open his mouth when the door swung open and Madam Pomfrey and Hermione came into the room.
“Mr. P-p-potter, you will have d-d-detention with Hagrid to-tonight,” Quirrell ordered. “Now g-g-go.”
Harry didn’t need any other incentive to get out of that room. Harry wasn’t sure he grabbed everything. Well, if he didn’t it was going to have to wait until the next time he had Defense. He was not going back to that classroom.
___000___000___000
It was just starting to get dark when Harry headed to Hagrid’s hut. Usually, Harry would be excited to see his friend and Fang, but today, he wasn’t. He didn’t understand what happened. How could he hurt Neville like that? Would Neville want to still be his friend? It was an accident. He hoped so. Neville was kind to him. He helped Harry with the names of some of the plants in Herbology.
When Harry reached Hagrid’s hut, he saw that Fang and Hagrid were waiting for him.
“Righto, Harry,” Hagrid said. “I want you to stay close to me, understand.”
“Yes,” Harry said. “Hagrid, what are we doing?”
They started walking towards the Dark Forest.
“There has been someone or something hurting the Unicorns.”
“There are Unicorns?” Harry asked, excitement in his voice.
“Of course,” Hagrid said, smiling down at the small child. “There are all sorts of wonderful creatures in the forest. Maybe we will see some.”
Harry couldn’t help the small curve in his lips. Even though this was a punishment, he was happy that at least he could spend it with friends. And who didn’t like having Fang next to you? Fang stayed next to Harry the minute he showed up at the hut. Harry kept his hand on Fang’s huge collar.
___000___000___000
For the first time in a long time, Severus felt out of control. He didn’t like this feeling. He felt vulnerable. He hated that. Vulnerability made him feel weak.
He knew what he was feeling, but it was the last thing he wanted to admit. He didn’t want to care for the boy. He couldn’t do it. He was scared. And it was a scrawny, timid little child with emerald green eyes that brought those feelings flooding back.
He wasn’t a nice man. He didn’t want to be nice. He didn’t want to be trusted. He didn’t want to care.
Caring meant that he had to put his heart on the line. He couldn’t do that. Not again. His heart was broken once before, and he swore to himself that it would never happen again.
Severus was not his usual self today. He heard the whispers from the students about how he was acting, but he didn’t care. He had a lot on his mind. It was amazing how one small child could take up so much of his attention.
Severus also knew that Minerva and Albus were worried about him. He could see it in their faces during lunch. And he knew what that would mean; they were going to barge into his chambers and make him talk.
That was the last thing he wanted.
To illustrate that he didn’t want to talk, he left his chambers. He figured that a peaceful walk would help. They would come to his chambers and see that he wasn’t there and let him be-
“My boy.”
-or maybe not. Severus sighed, lowering his head. “I don’t want to talk, Albus,” Severus said dryly.
Albus caught up with Severus.
“I think you do,” Albus countered.
“No,” Severus said, slightly shaking his head. “I don’t.”
“Then why are you walking towards my chambers?” Albus asked, looking over his half-moon glasses.
Severus looked around and noticed where he was. He snarled wanting to curse out loud. He hated admitting that those old geezers were right. They always hung it over his head.
“Careful, Severus,” Albus warned lightly. “You’re projecting your thoughts. I know you’re worried. And I know that it has to do with a certain young boy. And I know my son; he’s fighting himself because he cares and he doesn’t want to find out what it all means.”
Severus hated that Albus could read him like a book sometimes. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “Fine,” Severus said softly.
Albus put his hand on Severus' shoulder, “Come, son, let’s have some tea. I’m sure all will sort itself out. You’ll see.”
Severus took another deep breath, slowly letting it release, and allowed himself to be taken to his adopted father’s chambers.
___000___000___000
Bill waited all day hoping Griphook would come to inquire about the parchment. It was getting close to his time to leave. After learning what he did from Dumbledore, there wasn’t much he could do without the Goblin’s help.
So, Bill decided to work on some of the other items on his desk. Finishing up on the last item, Griphook walked in, closing the door behind him.
“What did you learn?” Griphook asked.
“A lot,” Bill said. “And something you are not going to like.”
“Tell me.”
“The runes are genuine,” Bill started. “It's authentic. This is the Will of the Potters. I talked with one of the wizards that put it on the Will. The other two wizards were killed during the first war.”
Griphook grabbed the rolled parchment, looking it over.
“The problem is,” Bill continued. “Someone else put a curse of sorts on it to keep it from going through the proper channels.”
“What do you mean ‘curse of sorts?’”
“It isn’t something I can break,” Bill confessed. “It has to be broken from the elf who put it on there.”
“Elf?!” Griphook roared.
“Sorry, sir,” Bill said. “An elf sabotaged this Will causing it to delay delivery. And it had to be done within these walls.”
Goblins were already pale creatures. Learning that there was a breach of conduct within Gringott, Griphook turned ghostly white.
___000___000___000
Harry knew that detentions weren’t supposed to be easy or likable, but this was nerve-wracking. It was dark except for the few streams of moonlight that fell through the trees. When Harry would walk around the neighborhood at home, he would hear all manner of insects around. Here in this forest, there was nothing. Complete silence.
The silence bothered Harry. Darkness bothered the child. He didn’t like it. It reminded him of awful things. Things he didn’t want to remember. Silence reminded him that there was no one there. That he was alone.
When Harry would be punished, he would be put in a soundproof closet that his Uncle Vernon had made special for him. It didn’t matter how much he screamed his apology for whatever sin he was blamed for committing. It didn’t matter. Harry was stuck in the dark, alone, with the only noise being his own. He’d rather be in his cupboard under the stairs than in that soundproof closet.
Harry was brought back from his memory when he tripped over a tree root that was coming out of the ground. Falling on his hands and knees he felt the roughness of the bark and the dampness of the forest floor. His pants started to dampen. Feeling the soggy ground, Harry was able to come out of his memory. When he looked up, he came to the realization that he hadn’t heard Hagrid. He really was alone. In the dark.
“Fang,” Harry called out, weakly. “Hagrid.” His voice was a mere whisper from fear.
There was some rustling noise just ahead of him, so he figured that it was Hagrid. As he got up and followed the sound. He saw he was coming towards some light.
There was a clearing in between the trees.
A slight feeling of ease came over Harry when he saw the lighted area. He walked to it and saw a cloaked figure lying on the ground. It wasn’t Hagrid. There was something under it. When Harry got close, his scar started to burn. It wasn’t as painful as the other week, but it did stop Harry in his tracks.
Harry didn’t like what he was seeing. Stepping back the boy tripped on a branch causing him to fall backward. The damp ground began to soak into his clothes again.
The noise made the cloaked figure look up. The face was partially covered. There was silvery liquid streaming down the sides of, what Harry assumed, was its mouth. The cloaked figure floated above the thing it was leaning over.
Once the cloaked figure moved, Harry could see that it was an animal lying on its side. Probably one of the Unicorns he and Hagrid were supposed to be looking for.
The figure started to float towards Harry. The boy couldn’t hold in his screech as he tried to back up. His hands and heels of his feet slipped on the damp ground. Not getting far as he bumped into the base of a tree.
The figure was almost upon Harry when something jumped over Harry and stood between him and the cloaked figure. His protector looked like a horse but wasn’t one. Harry watched as the creature charged the cloaked figure making the figure go in the opposite direction.
The creature turned around.
“You are safe, Harry Potter.”
“Who are you?” Harry asked. His voice was a whisper. He swallowed and asked the question again, but a little louder.
“My name is Firenze,” giving a slight bow. “I’m a centaur.”
Harry stood up. “You know my name?”
“Witches and wizards are not the only ones that know of Harry Potter. We, creatures, know as well,” Firenze said. “And you shouldn’t be here. It is not safe for you in the forest.”
“It was my detention,” Harry said.
“Climb on my back,” Firenze offered, reaching out, taking the child’s arm, and pulling the child on his back. “You shouldn’t be here. And you will be in more danger the longer you stay.”
Once Harry was on Firenze’s back he wrapped his arms around the centaur’s waist. Harry lowered his head, burying it in the crook of his elbow. The dark still scared him, but having something to cling to helped. He just wished it was his safety.
___000___000___000
Severus was sitting across from Albus’ desk drinking tea in surprisingly comfortable silence. He thought about what they talked about. He didn’t believe he was the right person to care for Harry. But Albus countered his argument with the fact that he referred to the child as Harry.
Fawks squawked and broke Severus out of his musing.
“What’s going on?” Severus asked when he saw Albus whispering to his phoenix.
“There seems to be a problem in the Forbidden Forest.” Albus stood.
Severus got up, and the two wizards rushed out of the Headmaster’s chambers.
They got to Hagrid’s hut and saw the half giant pacing back and forth.
“Hagrid,” Albus called out.
“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” Hagrid greeted. His voice was a little shaky. “Professor Snape.”
“What’s happened, Hagrid?” Albus asked.
“I can’t find Harry.”
“Harry?” Severus wanted clarification. “Why was Harry out here and not in his tower?”
Severus couldn’t believe what he just heard. Why would his Harry be in the forest? His Harry? The child couldn’t be his. Harry could do much better.
Hagrid, answering Albus’ questions as to why Harry was with him in the forest, brought Severus out of his musings.
Severus was about to demand again as to why Harry was in the forest when movement at the edge of the forest got the three men’s attention.
“Ah, Firenze,” Albus greeted. “It is wonderful to see you.”
“Professor Dumbledore,” Firenze slightly bowed his head, walking closer to the men. “It seems that there was a wandering student in the forest.”
Severus saw the small child clinging to the centaur. He rushed to Harry’s side.
“Harry,” Severus called out.
Harry lifted his head and saw Professor Snape. His safety. Harry didn’t know how his Professor would react to the fact that he was in the forest, but it was his detention, so he shouldn’t get in more trouble. He hoped he wouldn’t.
When Severus reached them. Not thinking about what he was doing or who was with him, Severus gripped Harry under his arms and lifted the child, his child, off of Firenze’s back and brought the boy to his chest.
Harry wasted no time, wrapping his arms and legs around his place of safety. Trouble or not, Harry didn’t care. Burden or not, Harry didn’t care. As long as he was with Professor Snape, he knew he was safe.