A Means of Survival – Chapter 24 – New Truths

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Chapter 24 – New Truths

It always worried Poppy when faced with living folk who looked worse than most of the people she had been forced to pronounce dead.

It was late Tuesday morning and she was sitting in Severus’s quarters in dark blue armchair that was arranged adjacent to the green couch where he sat with Harry. She was trying to think how to explain the situation that had arisen since she had placed him on house arrest.

She needed a way to stall for thinking time. It had seemed so much simpler when she had been back in the infirmary still listening to the mostly demented cries of the highly sedated boy.

“Is this a new development?” She asked, making light of the fact that Harry was now seated next to his professor, as opposed to on him.

“Quite,” Severus answered, sounding much more severe than he had two days earlier. She took that to mean that he was feeling much better. He looked at her curiously, obviously wondering why she had appeared suddenly with the “wild urge to see him,” only for her to arrive and sit and speak of nothing.

She really did need to speak with him, but she was weary of doing so with Harry in the room. It did seem a good improvement that the boy was no longer largely attached to Severus’s chest.

“Harry, I was wondering if I might be able to speak for a moment or two alone with Professor Snape.” She said, not unkindly.

Instead of answering, the boy looked at Severus with an odd sort of expression on his face.

What was even stranger than that, however, was Severus’s resounding sigh.

She raised an eyebrow at them both and waited for an explanation.

“Things have gotten—,” Severus began, speaking slowly before stopping altogether, mid-sentence. He looked at the boy, who looked steadily back, obviously intent on hearing his professor’s answer.

“This situation, as you know, is already a bit more bizarre than it perhaps ought to be, considering our less than enthused past history.” He said, obviously working his way up to the topic at hand. He looked back at Harry who was sitting up against him, and reached out a hand to the boy.

Harry grasped it with a small grin, as Severus turned back to her.

“And given our enforced time together over the past few days,” he said, looking pointedly in her direction, “bizarre has started taking on new meanings for us.” He said, speaking cryptically.

“Explain,” she said, leaning back and folding her arms in front of her.

She watched as they stood up simultaneously together. That was a bit humorous, but she couldn’t see anything particularly worrisome about it.

“I discovered, early on Sunday morning, that when not in my arms, the boy seemed to be following me all around the room.” He said, having turned them so that they were looking at her directly, although still far enough back that she could see them both without having to move her head back and forth.

They are still holding hands, she noted with further intrigue.

“Well, then we discovered another facet of the puzzle after getting up this morning.” He said, increasing her interest with every sentence.

He looked back at Harry.

“Like before,” he said to the boy. The child nodded solemnly.

Severus moved the hand that was holding the boy’s hand out and up, so that the boy was forced to raise his arm straight into the air.

And then he moved his arm a bit higher, so that Harry was forced to stand on his tiptoes in order to keep the connection.

And then, he moved his hand higher still, literally lifting the boy off his feet.

“Severus!” She exclaimed angrily at him. “Of course he’s not going to let go. Stop this at once.” She commanded, quite shocked at his behavior.

“Ah, but what if I let go?” He asked her, looking at the boy who was grinning down at her with excitement dancing in his eyes. It was only the boy’s look that saved Severus from getting kicked in the knee—or anywhere else—as she forced herself to wait and see.

“Like now,” Severus said, raising his hand still higher, before releasing the boy’s hand.

That was when she felt her jaw drop open; for the boy was still suspended above the ground, even though his outstretched arm and hand were no longer touching any part of Severus’s body. She watched in growing amazement as Severus raised his hand higher, only to see the boy’s body move higher as well in response.

“I agree Severus,” she said in slightly disconnected awe. “That is a bit odd.” She said, thinking that her last sentence was perhaps the understatement of the bloody year.

She watched silently as Severus lowered his arm back down. As soon as it was within grasping distance, the boy jumped—in midair—and grabbed it, grinning excitedly at them both.

“I’m his SLOB,” he said shyly, yet oddly proud about the statement.

“Severus,” she said in her sternest lecturing voice.

“It’s an acronym,” the boy quipped brightly to her.

“Really,” she said, still glaring up at barely grown boy who was rather close to losing a favored body part, if someone didn’t start explaining what the boy had meant.

Harry, perhaps sensing her less than accepting tone, shrunk down about a foot from where he was standing, and then proceeded to hide behind the much larger man standing beside him. Considering that they were still holding hands, this resulted in Severus being forced to stand with one hand partially, if not rather awkwardly, behind his back while the boy hid from the apparently unhappy lady in front of them.

“Poppy.” Severus admonished. “Stop scaring my SLOB,” he said, grinning at her wickedly. It was quite an unusual look for him. She knew without a doubt that his current expression would most certainly result in tears from many of the younger students, without his needing to say a word.

“Am not scared,” was the muffled response of the boy from behind Severus’s back.

Severus turned around and knelt down before the boy, gathering him into his arms voluntarily, before turning back around to look at Poppy. In turn, she felt that it was rather obvious, from the probable look that was on her face, that his most recent action had just shocked the world on its ear, at least as she knew it.

“Do you see the Small Lump Of Boy here in my arms, Poppy?” He asked, looking darkly amused at her sudden understanding.

“Oh,” she said, just looking at them for a moment. “You mean your SLOB?” She asked casually, joining in the bizarreness easily.

“Quite.” He said while inclining his head towards her, undoubtedly pleased to have that cleared up.

…

Severus was glad that Poppy was his friend, as well as long time mentor. If any other medical professional had seen his latest change in personality, they likely would have suggested his being committed to a high level security mental hospital.

Of course, if they did that, they’d be committing the boy as well.

It was clear to him that some kind of ancient magic was involved in their literally being connected. It seemed likely that it was some kind of outdated guardian-child tradition to be closely connected until the child could safely be left alone. He hoped that he was wrong in his evaluation of their situation. Harry was rarely anywhere near safe while with others, and practically never while alone.

The situation was likely going to cause more than a few new grey hairs to appear in his beard; luckily for him, he didn’t keep a beard.

See, he thought to himself worriedly, it’s thoughts like that which are particularly beginning to disturb to me.

And then there was that other issue—the new room that had suddenly appeared in his quarters that morning. He had thought that the castle would only respond to requests of Albus’s, but he had apparently been mistaken. Rather, it seemed plausible that the castle was far more in control over its own self than anyone knew; leaving him to honestly wonder whether or not Albus was aware of the true reality of the situation.

“Poppy,” he said once they were sitting again. “Albus is still in direct control over the castle, is he not?”

Beside him, he could feel Harry suddenly twitch a bit, likely in amusement, he thought sourly.

“As far as I know,” she said, looking pensively at him. “Although, that control is not, or has it ever been, a complete and total control. None of the headmasters have ever been able to bind the castle completely to them or their wills. Strange things will always occur, but they are primarily on a small scale level.” She said.

“So,” he said, leaning back and automatically taking Harry’s hand once more, “it would be unlikely that a room would ever appear on its own lest the headmaster had directed so?”

“No, the control that the headmasters have traditionally held over the, ah, will of the castle, have not allowed for such things to spontaneously occur. Why do you ask?” She asked, her eyes narrowed in apparent curiosity.

“How much does the headmaster know of the current situation between Harry and me?” He asked, trying to see if his theory would actually hold water.

“I would assume that he is at least aware that you have both not attended classes for the past two days.” She said. “As for whether he is aware of Harry’s recently acquired connection to you, I would say that it is most unlikely that he knows of anything substantive, provided he is even aware of it to begin with.”

Newly acquired connection, Severus thought grimly to himself. That was certainly a way of explaining it, he thought.

“Could he not just ask the castle itself?” Severus asked casually.

“He could,” Poppy said, leaning farther back and looking at him intently in return. “But he would only get an answer if the castle felt the desire to share the information with him. The castle, for all of its years in existence, seems to have many similarities to the teenaged denizens who roam its halls.” She said, smiling a bit at the concept.

“So I ask you again,” she said, leaning in closer to them both. “Why do you ask?”

Severus looked down at his lap to his hands, one of which was loosely clasping the much smaller hand of the boy who was still sitting quietly beside him. He glanced at the boy and saw him nodding his head in encouragement at him.

He scowled at himself for looking for encouragement from a still wet behind the ears, twelve year old boy, who also happened to be a Gryffindor, no less. In silent response, he felt the boy squeeze his hand, still far too perceptive of his moods than he might have often liked.

“This morning, upon waking, Harry and I came across an interesting—,” he broke off, thinking for a word that wouldn’t reveal too much to the overly insistent woman sitting in front of them, “—development,” he finally finished, looking up at her darkly.

She was still waiting.

“I think we ought to show her, sir,” the boy said in what was far too solemn a voice, considering his age.

And house affiliation, his inner voice added sulkily.

“Severus?” She asked, now intrigued.

“Fine,” he huffed, standing up alongside the far too eager boy.

They went down the hallway first, followed closely by Poppy herself, to the door that had appeared in the wall sometime before their arrival in the conscious world that morning.

At seeing Poppy’s look of consternation, he decided to help her out.

“You are correct. This door has never existed before, at least not in my tenure here.” He said.

“Fascinating,” Poppy said.

And then he opened the door, and looked into the room that had only first begun its existence earlier that day. On the far side of the room, there sat a child sized bed, already made up, with a soft dark red cover adorning it. Other than some empty bookcases, the only other thing that sat in the room was a battered trunk.

“My trunk!” The child beside him exclaimed joyously, even though he did not let go of Severus’s hand to investigate it.

Therefore, Severus took a few steps into the room before releasing the boy’s hand to gently guide him towards the obviously much revered object. The boy hesitantly took a step away from him, before stopping and looking back worriedly.

“What if it’s been hexed?” The boy said softly, his green eyes large in his head.

“Tell him that it’s not been,” chuckled an unfamiliar voice from inside his own head. He raised his eyebrows in amazement at apparently hearing the unlikely voice of the castle inside his mind.

“According to the castle,” he said after a moment, “it’s not been.”

The boy raised his own eyebrows in amazement after hearing him speak those very surprising words.

If the child knows anything about me, he should know that I am not the type to idly make jokes about such a thing.

“Can you still check it?” The boy’s still soft voice said nervously, breaking into the silence left in the room after the surprising revelation.

“Certainly,” he said, gratified that the boy was still inclined to take his word over that of the castle itself.

“Fine,” he distinctly heard the castle huff from within his mind, as he ran the standard detection spells.

“The castle was correct,” he said after a moment, smirking at the expressions of the two people around him.

And then it was as though the spell between them had been broken. Harry was dropping to his knees, digging through his trunk with a level of fervor that he had not seen often before from the small boy.

Meanwhile, Poppy was pushing him gently towards the corner of the room, an increasingly dark expression on her face.

“What is it Poppy?” He asked, glancing over at the boy again, as he dug through the growing mess in front him, clearly hunting for something.

She clenched her jaw, an expression she generally saved for situations that were Very Bad. Quickly, she cast a silencing spell and outlined the Weasley situation for him. After she had spoken tersely for several minutes, he realized that he was feeling haggard breaths coming from his connection to the boy through the charmed necklace. He had not even thought about taking the silver chain off since receiving it.

He turned his face towards the child, only to find him sitting on the floor, curled tightly in his SLOB position, hyperventilating silently to himself. Beside him, Poppy quickly ended the spell as they both rushed over to where he was on the floor.

Severus quickly gathered him up in his arms protectively, wondering what could have happened to reduce the boy so quickly to this state.

This time he did not bother to use magic to help his breathing, but merely held him tightly as he rubbed slow circles into the boy’s rigid back muscles.

“Breathe with me Harry. In and out,” he intoned repetitively to the boy under his care. He continued to do so until he began feeling the boy’s muscles relax as his breathing slowly evened out. Standing at his side was an extremely quiet Poppy, currently holding out one of his personally brewed vials of calming draught.

He took it, nodding his thanks curtly at her, before administering it to the boy. The child barely made a face at the taste, which only served to increase his anxiety about him.

He walked out of the room towards his bedroom, with Poppy closely behind him. Once there, he lay down on the bed, indicating that Poppy should take a seat, before quickly spelling off the lights, leaving them in darkness. Upon extinguishing the lights, he had quickly felt the boy’s arms begin creeping out across his torso to wrap more firmly around Severus’s chest.

“Harry and I discovered that we work things better out in the dark, didn’t we?” He asked his SLOB.

Harry squeaked a small distressed sound and nodded tearfully against his shoulder in response to his question. Severus could feel the hot tears as they began dropping onto the skin of his neck, but he did not feel it necessary to point this out to Poppy.

He also felt a small fist being made as it grasped the front of his shirt in what was quickly becoming yet another familiar motion, here in the darkness between strength and fearfulness.

“I’ve always enjoyed the darkness myself,” Poppy’s voice said gently from somewhere beside them. To his relief, the boy did not jump at her words, but listened to them quietly.

“Darkness is especially nice when you can lie safely in someone’s arms, protected from the judgmental outer world.” She continued speaking to them in that endlessly calm voice that frequently had served to put the younger Severus back to sleep after waking up from one of his more frightening nightmares.

“Uh huh,” the boy shakily agreed.

“Do you feel that you can tell us about what it was that upset you?” Severus asked then, upon hearing that the boy had regained his voice somewhat.

The boy hurriedly shook his head against his arm, before negating his statement by slowly nodding his head once.

“I know that you seemed to be looking for something, correct?” Severus asked, taking the initiative with the child.

He felt another nod, and then heard a quivering breath being taken.

“My pictures,” the boy whispered in a barely audible voice.

“What kind of pictures are these?” Poppy asked in an interested voice.

“H-Hagrid put an, he put an album together for me,” the boy answered haphazardly.

“That certainly was nice of him. What kind of pictures did he include in the album?” She asked with a particular sort of patience that Severus appreciated.

“My parents,” the boy said, his voice dropping back into his previously harsh whisper.

“I saw what looked like an album next to where you were sitting, before we came in here,” Severus said calmly. “I suppose that you found it, correct?”

“Yes sir,” the boy said in a clearer voice, as the draught began making definite headway against his overwhelming fear.

“Did finding the album have anything to do with your sudden onslaught of fear?” Severus asked delicately.

“No sir.” The boy said, shaking his head firmly in the negative.

Severus was gratified that the boy’s tears had now stopped. In addition, he could feel the subtle movements of his legs as they slowly stretched themselves out of their previous SLOB state.

“I heard Poppy talking about R-Ron,” the boy said, surprising them both.

“Child, what did you hear?” He asked worriedly, already suspecting the answer.

“All of it,” came the muffled voice of the boy against his shoulder.

“Severus, what did he say?” Poppy asked him quickly.

What, you can’t understand muffled SLOB speak?

“He heard the entire conversation.” Severus answered instead.

He heard a small gasp from beside him and silently chided her from within his head. The last thing that they wanted was to make the boy think he had done something wrong.

“Am I sorry?” The boy asked him bizarrely, catching him slightly off guard with the oddly phrased question.

“No, you did nothing wrong,” Severus said firmly, rubbing his thumb lightly over the boy’s still damp cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, saying it again in hopes that the boy would actually believe him for once.

“Harry, if anyone should apologize, it’s me,” Poppy said sadly. “I had not intended for you to hear our conversation.”

“I thought I had seen you set your privacy spell.” The boy said in a questioning, although not accusatory, tone.

“I thought that I had.” She said, clearly confused.

“Trust me,” Severus said. “You did, and then upon hearing the topic, I set another one, just to make sure.”

“You didn’t cancel mine out accidentally?” Poppy asked sharply.

“No,” Severus said, hearing an echo in Harry’s quieter alto voice.

“I know ‘cause I could hear you before Sev-I mean, before Professor Snape ever did his spell,” the boy said, squishing his face hard against his shoulder in embarrassment at almost using the man’s first name.

“Harry,” he said, gently trying to pull the boy’s face back into the air with his hand. “I should have said this earlier. I don’t mind if you call me Severus while in my quarters.” He said; smirking a bit at what the boy’s shocked facial expression felt like against him. “I know Poppy has already given you the same permission, after all,” he said, gently touching the child’s head with his fingers.

“Honest?” The boy asked him in awe.

Honest, he said internally, not allowing himself to use the child’s incorrect terminology.

“Yes,” he said instead.

He smiled a bit in that protective darkness as the boy hugged him tightly for a second, before touching Severus’s cheek as well, as though he were trying to make sure he was the real thing.

And then they were all silent again, as Severus waited for the boy’s mind to make it back to the original problem. There was no way that they could simply pretend they were past the issue. It simply wasn’t that kind of a situation.

Then, at long last, he heard the dreadful question posed in a wretchedly tiny sounding voice.

“Is Ron gonna die?”