Electric Avenue by DesertPlanet

Severus looked awful, Madam Pomfrey couldn’t help but notice when she flooed in for the second time that morning. He had dark circles under his eyes which previously had not been there despite him being a known insomniac. His forehead was wrinkled from frowning and his hands shook almost almost imperceptibly as he clung to a mug of coffee for dear life. They were barely a week into term and she already had half a mind to force him to take a sick day.

Turning to Elias, she sighed. He didn’t look much better than his father. Despite the healing sleep she had left him in, he still did not look well. Small tremors could now be seen racing through his limbs once again, though the spasms which had plagued him before had thankfully not returned. Yet.

“Where did that bruise come from on his forehead?” she pondered, looking worriedly at Severus. The right side of the boy’s forehead had begun turning a dark purple making her rather concerned he may have sustained a head injury either prior to or during his ordeal.

“I believe he may have hit it against the headboard,” Severus said quietly as he sipped at his coffee. “I also found some blood on his sheets. I don’t know what he could have hit it on , but he got a cut on the same spot as his other scar.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m glad he wasn’t attacked by any other student!”

Severus smiled wryly as he watched the healer prepare to wake Elias from the healing sleep. How he would respond would determine if he would be able to make do with a standard appointment with a healer at St. Mungo’s or if the would require a trip to emergency. Severus could only hope for the former rather than the latter.

“Severus, hold his hand please,” Madam Pomfrey said calmly. “He may be just as frightened now as he was at the time we put him under. I’ll leave him on ventilation just in case something were to go arry.”

Severus nodded as he gently picked up the boy’s hand and began stroking the back of Elias’s hand with his thumb and prepared himself for the boy to wake up. He had very nearly died less than eight hours previously, it wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if he woke up screaming.

Madam Pomfrey pulled her wand out of its holster and waved it over the teen in the bed, slowly raising his temperature up to normal before chanting out the long spell necessary to wake the boy from his induced slumber before casting another spell to monitor the boy’s vital signs.

At first, there was no sign the spell took, leading her to look down at him in concern and begin preparing to attempt casting the reversal once more when a low crooning was heard as the ventilation spell forced his lungs to exhale.

“Noooooooooo!” Elias moaned tears streaming from his eyes as he returned slowly to consciousness. “Nooooooooooo!”

“Shhh,” Severus shushed his son gently, wiping tears away with a shaking hand. “Elias, shhh, it’s ok now. You’re alive. You can breathe.”

“Nooooo!” Elias cried once more, his cry cut short as he was forced to inhale. “.....Daaaaa! …. Help!”

“Elias, Da’s here,” Severus said, using Elias’s chosen name for him with a sad smile.

“P-please h-h-h …... -e he’s g-g-goin….. D-da!” Elias cried, too panicked to realize much of what he was trying to say was being prevented by the ventilation spell.

“Da’s here, Elias,” Severus said, voice cracking as Elias continued to mouth words despite having no control over his own breathing at the moment. “You’re at Hogwarts. You’re safe. He cannot find you here.”

“Elias, you’re at Hogwarts,” Madam Pomfrey said softly, debating if it would be better to give the boy a calming draught or not. It would heavily interact with the muscle relaxers and antispasmotics he had been given and would likely knock him out for several hours, but would that be safer for him than having his anxiety spiking constantly or not. “We’re in your father’s quarters … your bedrooms… in the dungeons.”

Elias looked around in confusion for a moment before blearily looking at his father. He had made it back; he was alive. He had been so sure Voldemort was going to kill him. Especially after what had happened to… someone? Someone in black robes had been killed. He knew who it was, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t focus on who it could have been.

His throat felt as though it were starting to close as he tried to breathe faster than what the spell would allow. Had the person in black been his father? Was his father dead?! His da wore black a lot, it probably was him.

His eyes filled with tears once more as he looked around frantically. Where was he now?! Some part of him said it belonged to him, but it wasn’t right. This had to be a … a … where was he?

“D-da!” Elias cried out once more, looking towards the open door. His voice wasn’t very loud for some reason. Would his da hear him?

“Da’s here,” a silky, deep voice said next to him. “Da’s here, Elias.”

Elias looked at the speaker intently, though his eyes seemed rather unfocused. Was… was that his da? His da had died. A long time ago. So who was this sitting by him, holding his hand? His da had black hair, didn’t he? And glasses? No… no… that was a different da… his old da… The other da had … green eyes? Brown eyes? Eyes?

Elias smiled slightly at the thought. Of course he had eyes, he was a human after all. The man holding his hand had black eyes… that seemed right… and black hair and black robes. He looked like a vampire. Was his da a vampire? Yes. Yes. They lived in the dungeons and away from the sun because he was a ...a … what was he again? Oh right.

“B-blood?” Elias mumbled, reaching over with the hand not currently being held and weakly patting the man’s head.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the mood swing and tried to understand where his son was going with his… bizarre statement. “Yes, your head was bleeding for a little while. It’s stopped now though.”

“...sty?” Elias asked, still not fully understanding something else was breathing for him.

Severus glared sternly at the boy as he started to put two and two together. “Tasty? I think not. I have no desire to drink your blood.”

Elias looked rather put out for a moment before looking around frantically once more as Severus looked tiredly at Madam Pomfrey. In all likelihood, he would continue to be this confused for several days if his previous ‘episode’ was anything to go by and he still had classes to teach, lessons to prepare for, and a house to run. He was certainly going to need more coffee in his life to get through this.

“Severus,” Madam Pomfrey said quietly, pulling him from his thoughts. “He needs to go to St. Mungo’s for evaluation. He may have an anoxic brain injury.”

Severus frowned at the statement. Would Healer Shannon’s forged paperwork be good enough to trick the healers at St. Mungo’s? What would they think of the state he was in? Would they be able to pick up on any discrepancies between his ‘history’ and his history. Was this going to be safe?

But how long had he been struggling to breathe before he was found?

Severus nodded before standing and summoning his travelling cloak. There was no way he would be leaving his son’s side. He trusted Madam Pomfrey’s judgement, but he was unsure of how the boy would respond to going to St. Mungo’s or what sort of treatment they would do to him while he was there.

“Severus, change your robes,” Madam Pomfrey said quietly before he managed to throw his cloak on. “Those ones are… not going to be well received.”

Looking down, Severus was rather surprised at himself. He had been so concerned about Elias he hadn’t changed out of his Death Eater robes. Typically, when he got back from a meeting or revel, changing out of the blasted robes was the first thing he did. They were quick enough to change out of, after all, and even in a rather delirious state he would be able to manage removing or at least transfiguring the offending garment.

With trembling hands, he undid the buttons on the front and slid the robe off, glad he had started wearing trousers under his robes after the … incident … with Potter in his fifth year. Summoning a clean robe from his wardrobe and sliding it on, he couldn’t help but wince at the feeling of putting clean clothing on. He had yet to shower or perform any of his normal morning absolutions, but that was not a priority right now. Getting his son treatment was.

“D-d-d…” Elias tried to say between breaths, struggling weakly against the sheets Madam Pomfrey was wrapping around him. “No!”

“We’ll have to go to the Hospital Wing first,” Madam Pomfrey said gently, securing the sheets to prevent Elias from flopping around too much once he was placed on the hovering stretcher she had conjured. “I have a direct Portkey to St. Mungo’s there. We’ll have to walk there though, I don’t want to risk him inhaling any soot or floo powder.”

“No!” Elias cried once more, eyes widening in panic as he continued to struggle against the sheets. Where were they going? Why were they taking a Portkey?! Was his da going to take him to the Dark Lord?! Where were they going?! “No!”

“Elias, stop!” Severus said as Madam Pomfrey levitated him to the stretcher and restrained him to it. “You stopped breathing; you almost died! You need to go to St. Mungo’s for an evaluation at least!”

Elias wasn’t hearing it though. Severus could tell he wasn’t paying any attention any longer. His eyes were glassed over as tears streamed from them unbidden down his cheeks. His chest heaved against the ventilation spell in a desperate attempt to get more air into his lungs. In fact, had it not been for the spell controlling his breathing, Severus was fairly certain he would be hyperventilating. His face looked rather ashen as the stretcher was levitated to a more optimal working height and he began sobbing in earnest as soon as the stretcher moved.

“Are you ready?” Madam Pomfrey said as Elias let out an ear piercing wail.

Severus nodded and ran his fingers through his son’s hair in an effort to calm him. Despite it being early in the morning, he was fairly certain they would come across at least one or two students on their journey to the hospital wing. Inevitably, there would be those students who either wanted to study something in the library or enjoyed an early morning jog through the castle.

“Elias, shh. You’re ok. You’re safe,” Severus said, continuing to card his hand through the boy’s hair as they walked quickly out of his quarters and into the dungeons.

“No p-p-p-port…. -ease no! P-p-p ….d-d-do it! P-pl…!” Elias continued to sob, trying to work his arms out of the sheets wrapped around him as they climbed the stairs.

“Shh, we’re going to the hospital wing first,” Severus said quietly, placing one hand on his son’s cheek as they walked, allowing Madam Pomfrey to steer the stretcher.

“N-n-no! No! Nooooo!” Elias continued before weakly attempting to throw himself off of the stretcher in spite of the restraints holding him safely on board. He was frantic. Something was controlling his breathing. He was tied down. He was wrapped in a sheet. They were moving him somewhere and he didn’t understand where or why. And they had said they were going to portkey him … somewhere.

Memories filtered in through the haze which had settled over him. The feel of wet grass against his ankles as he ran, the feeling of the restraints holding him against the headstone of Voldemort’s father. The high pitched laugh. The pain of his arm being sliced open and watching it drip into the awaiting cauldron below. His duel with Voldemort. Watching as Voldemort’s most recent victims’ souls fell from his wand one by one until finally his parents emerged. Cedric asking him to take his body back to Hogwarts. Feeling the waxy, cold, lifeless skin under his fingers as he frantically summoned the cup for the return trip to Hogwarts.

“Harry… take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents…”

The cup slammed into his hand and a hook jerked behind his navel. Cedric’s eyes, cold and lifeless, stared up at him as the band played and the spectators cheered.

And all he could do was scream.

With OWLs fast approaching, she knew she was going to have to increase the number of hours she spent studying. Just spending her evenings reviewing the textbooks in the dorms wasn’t going to cut it any more. If she was going to be successful in her OWLs and even remotely have a chance at getting into some of her more desired classes for NEWTs. OWLs were make or break in her mind and she had to be prepared.

Making her way down from Gryffindor, she relished the stillness of the castle. Few people were up, especially from her own house, and even the portraits were still sleeping quietly. It was perfect and serene and allowed her mind to wander somewhat during her walk.

Suddenly a faint scream echoed through the stairwell, dragging her from her thoughts. Had she been near the second floor toilets, she would have thought it was just Myrtle carrying on about some fictitious atrocity committed against her and how everyone was out to make fun of her. But no, that scream came from a different direction entirely. It sounded as though it came from the dungeons.

Odd. None of the dungeon ghosts were known for making noise. Even Peeves didn’t scream; he just caused other people to do so.

Curiosity won over as she continued down the stairs past the library and towards the sound of crying. Whoever it was sounded terrified with the way they were carrying on. Had Filch actually managed to get a hold of a student? Or perhaps Umbridge had.

“Noooooo!” the wail echoed through the hall as she slunk closer. It seemed they were heading in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

“P-please!”

Hermione froze momentarily before sprinting around the corner and looking towards the Hospital Wing before ducking into an alcove so as to not get caught by Professor Snape or Madam Pomfrey. There was only one person she knew of who was currently at Hogwarts with a stutter. One person who lived in the dungeons and would likely be going to the Hospital Wing. One person who most certainly would be being escorted by Snape.

Elias.

“P-p-plea…” Elias’s voice cut of mid-wail as he took a breath in, seemingly not of his own volition. “...key! No!”

“Elias, shh,” she could just hear Snape say as he tried to get the boy to focus on him. “You’re safe. You’re going to be safe.”

“NO!!” Elias cried once more as the trio strode into the hospital wing, the doors slamming partially shut behind them.

Hermione sank to the floor as his wails continued to echo in her ears despite the silencing charms on the hospital wing door. Something was wrong. Terribly, terrifyingly wrong. And if Ron’s theory held up…

Pulling herself to her feet and casting a notice-me-not charm around her, she quietly tip-toed to the door and snuck inside and hid in a corner. Studying for OWLs would have to wait; this was far more important.

“-first,” Madam Pomfrey was saying as she scampered through the door. “It’ll be only a moment, then we can dial in the Portkey-”

Elias whimpered loudly, his eyes darting around the room as though searching for unknown assailants. Hermione had to hold back a gasp as she witnessed him attempt to flip himself off of the stretcher, only to have Snape gingerly hold his head so he couldn’t throw it around. She could see his arms and legs moving under the sheet, but they seemed to be moving slower than usual. It was as though the muscles in them were weakened by a curse.

‘Or a potion,’ Hermione thought, looking at Snape. Who would have thought the man could be anything other than acerbic towards everyone?

“-dial in the Portkey to the correct ward.”

Snape nodded as Madam Pomfrey turned to the fireplace and floo’d away before turning back to his son who was continuing to look around frightfully. With a sigh, he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears from his son’s face. “Hush, Elias. You need to go get evaluated.”

“No!” Elias whimpered, squirming under the sheets.

“Yes,” Snape said, acting as though his son’s answer was actually in line with the conversation. “Elias you stopped breathing. You scared me.”

“P-please!”

“This is the safest way to get you to St. Mungo’s. It will likely not make you feel as ill as apparation or the floo,” Snape said softly, running his fingers through Elias’s hair.

From her spot in the corner, Hermione swore she could just make out a bruise forming on the boy’s forehead right where Harry’s scar would be. The few remains of the ‘other’ scar which were hidden below the larger one from this summer were clean, though they looked as though they had recently scabbed over. A scabbed over scar and a fear of Portkeys.

“Harry,” she breathed as Madam Pomfrey exited the floo and pulled out what looked rather similar to a kitchen timer.

“Ward 34,” she said, bustling over with the device. “They want to monitor his breathing more closely.”

Snape nodded and stood back as she attached the device to the stretcher before grabbing onto one of the handles. After a brief countdown, they disappeared, Elias’s final cry for help hanging in the air.

Hermione stepped out of the corner in a daze and stumbled to the spot they were just in. Harry. Elias. They were one in the same. Ron was right, and right in a way that made her stomach hurt. Something had happened to him, something which led to him needing hospitalized. Something which he couldn’t talk about. Something Snape was trying to help him with. Something which Snape was so invested in he stopped being mean.

Something which seemed to be killing him.

He looked so much worse than he had over the summer. His stutter had been there, but even the little bit she had heard since was much more pronounced. He wasn’t well. He shook worse.

He had stopped breathing.

Hermione sat on the footboard of one of the beds in shock. Was he dying? Was he actually dying? Surely someone else had to have known what was going on.

Professor Lupin! Surely he knew. That had to be the real reason he was here. He knew what was going on with Harry and was there to help cover for him. That was the only explanation. The only reason Professor Snape had been so hospitable to the man and willing to allow him around his ‘son,’ if they could even call him that.

Harry was dying. She couldn’t believe it. Why was it so important to keep this a secret from them?

If they were going to find more evidence that was who he really was, they were going to need to do so quickly. She wasn’t about to rush headlong into accusations again; she fully planned on finding evidence to back up her suspicions. And Professor Lupin would be a good place to start.