Tears falling in darkness – year one
First year at Hogwarts
AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?
Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …
Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …
M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16
at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …
Added author's note:
I do know that in Britain something like a boot placed outside the door on St. Nicholas' Day is not common, but I decided to use this nevertheless because today – the day I have written this particular chapter – is December, 6th – and therefore St. Nicholas' Day and my children have put their boots in front of the door. I have filled them during the night, like always and it was as much fun for me doing this as was for the children to get their boots in the morning. I do hope that you won't kill me for this …
Chapter contains references to child abuse.
Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.
what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …
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Previously in Tears falling in darkness
"I see." He mused.
He hadn't known that it still was that bad.
If he would send Draco to bed without food, then the boy would at least complain, and rightfully so, and if he told his son to go into his cupboard, then the boy surely would protest, even if he used his cupboard as some kind of hiding place.
Not that Draco had ever told him, but he knew it anyway.
"And still there are new horrors which I learn about every other week." The man growled and he knew that Severus thought of his meeting with the oculist. "I think that we have reached a base where we could start working on Harry's confidence and on his strength, and then there is a new horror revealed that sets him back for weeks, if not months."
"And yet, those setbacks, they are not as prolonged as they have been in the beginning." He said, smiling at his old friend.
"No." Severus answered, giving away a sad sigh anyway. "They are not."
Tears falling in darkness
The breaking wall
"I think it would benefit Theodore if he partook in this summer project, Thaddeus." He said, warily, knowing that he had to be careful with the man.
"That would be six weeks during which the boy is not home, Severus." Thaddeus Nott growled. "And he isn't home at Christmas too. My wife will kill me, she isn't too pleased about the boy staying here to begin with."
"You do realize that the Dark Lord will need a new Potions Master one day, Thaddeus, I won't be there forever." He calmly said. "And Theodore has the required talent for that position that would place him in a very high rank amongst the Death Eaters."
The man looked at him thoughtfully, his small eyes narrowed to even smaller slits while watching him and he even could see the wheels turning in the man's head. He knew that he had found the trigger. He, Severus, he had been the Dark Lord's second right hand man back then, when the bastard had been alive still, and he knew that there had been many Death Eaters who had envied him for his position, Nott Senior included. And now, having given the man ideas, Nott could already see his son in his, Severus', position.
"Are you sure that the Dark Lord would appraise him as much as he has you, Severus?" Nott asked, his eyes still narrowed at him.
"If I trained the boy for this particular position, then yes." He calmly answered. "In ten years I am approaching age fifty, Thaddeus, and you know that being a Death Eater requires talents and fitness that diminishes with that age slowly but surely and the high-rank Death Eaters have to take a few steps back because they only would jeopardize one or another mission."
"Fifty!" The man huffed. "You're far from being fourty, Snape!" But then the man narrowed his eyes at him. "What would be your gain out of this, Severus?" Nott asked. Of course he would ask this question, Nott was a long-time Death Eater, and a confident one. He did nothing without having a gain and he thought anyone would do the same.
"Theodore's protection." He smirked. "If I help Theodore on his way to the Dark Lord's right hand man, then I expect Theodore to keep me his own right hand man. It is a bond similar to an apprenticeship bond."
"It could work." Nott said and he was glad that he was always so indifferent, able keeping his emotions out of his face or he would have sneered in disgust at the man who was planning out his son's life as a Death Eater.
"Of course it could work." He huffed. "It has worked in the past. For centuries such pacts have been made. This has been the warrantor for the survival of the human race after all, Thaddeus. Your son has the chance for a high position directly beside the Dark Lord, you should consider well what you wish for your son's future, but for this position he will have to start learning right now. He has talent, Thaddeus, but talent will not be enough for becoming a Potions Master."
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Well, in the end Thaddeus Nott had agreed and Theodore would stay at Hogwarts during the summer holidays to help Pomona and Poppy with their plants, potions and healing equipment.
Next had been Gregory's parents and then Vincent's mother, followed by an uncle of Daphne Greengrass. Lucius had been one of the first parents he'd had over in his office, thus making sure that he still had all his senses collected. The more parents he had met, the more he had become impatient and he immensely had enjoyed the evening hours when he could dine with Harry, talk to the boy a bit before bed time, knowing that the next day it would start anew, first classes full of idiot dunderheads that did their best to explode his classroom and then idiot parents that did their best in driving him up the walls.
Well, the most easy parent-teacher conversation he'd had so far, had been with Mr. Zabini visiting him this evening, the man being interested in the curriculum and simply being content with his son behaving and with his son feeling well at Hogwarts. The man had told him a few things about Blaise's childhood and his own role in the boy's life.
"It is not my place to ask, Mr. Zabini, but I wondered if Blaise's mother would visit too." He carefully said. He knew well the reputation of Mrs. Zabini, Mr. Zabini being her eighth husband so far as all her past seven husbands had died a mysterious death, leaving her a lot of gold.
"I fear not." The man said. "Blaise's mother has already tired off my presence, I fear, and already I have found poison in my vespertine glass of red wine."
"I see." He seriously said. "So, your next move?"
"I have already given a report to the auror headquarters and I already have requested sole guardianship over Blaise too." Mr. Zabini answered. "I think that the boy has had enough different step fathers so far and I cannot imagine that having eight more until he has graduated will do him any good. Not to mention that his mother does not care anyway. She wasn't even present for the first hearing. I fear that already another wealthy man is more important to her and honestly, Professor Snape, I even think she is glad for that. If she doesn't have to think of her son or care for him, she will have more time for her – love affairs."
"How does Blaise see the situation?" He asked and the man frowned.
"To my knowledge he is content with the solution so far, but I fear for a more clarified answer you will have to ask him personally, professor." He then said. "I am his step-father only and even though I think that he is alright with this, seeing that he addressed me with any problems rather than his mother, I cannot see what is going through his mind or heart."
Well, except for that particular information, an information that was never a pleasant one, it had been an easy visit. Especially compared to some other's he'd had. Another pleasant visit had been Harry's.
Of course he knew how much he had startled the boy with the invitation placed in front of him at the Slytherin table and he had smirked on his way over to the head table, had even been able to feel the boy's startled green eyes on his back. But then the boy had taken out his quill, had X-ed something on the lower part of the parchment, and back then he already had been sure that it was the confirmation of the date proposal.
Well, he had placed the date so that Harry would have no classes after all, he knew that he'd be able to visit him if he so wished.
And honestly, as unsure as he had been at first, in one point the boy had been correct – he'd been the only one without an invitation just because his parent already was on stuff. And – he thought it funny, startling the boy like this. Not to mention that he would enjoy his son's visit during a time when he had to deal with a bunch of idiot parents that didn't care the way they should. And Harry too would be very happy that he had a few minutes with him during those three days that would be strenuous for not only him, Severus, but for Harry too.
Well, after lunch Harry had hurried out of the great hall and half an hour later he'd had the boy's reply, brought to him by Arturo, who had nibbled at his hand.
He'd had a few minutes between Cormet's father and Harry, and he had used this time to ask Zilly to bring hot chocolate for Harry and a cup of coffee for himself.
The conversation with Mr. Anshan had been unpleasant, but easy.
The man was no Death Eater and he surely didn't abuse his son. It was – just – neglect. Not in the way so many of his other students were, Harry included until he had come to Hogwarts, but the man clearly didn't care, the boy's drug escapades clear proof to that. Cormet never had been a real junkie, unable to refrain from doing those drugs, no – it had been a clear cry for help, a cry for attention.
But the only one who had heard, had been him, the boy's teacher, not his father who should have been there. Because that man had simply not cared and he was sure that the only reason for the man's presence now had been his clear mentioning of a stipend.
Well, he had asked Minerva for that stipend when Cormet had visited him during the year, nearly crying and telling him that his father wouldn't pay for the next school year, what would leave the boy without his NEWTs. Not to mention that the boy had already known that – without an exam and without a job, without anyone who cared, he easily could have fallen back into his old circle of 'friends'.
But well, Minerva had sanctioned the stipend and so the visit had been – unpleasant, but easy. And therefore he had been rather relaxed during Harry's visit, something he had hoped for.
The soft and questioning voice of his son got him out of his thoughts and looking up he couldn't help smiling at seeing the first really welcomed face since breakfast this morning.
"Do come in, you little imp." He growled good-natured. "Or do you expect me to drink your hot chocolate?"
The small smile that spread over the pale face for a moment was a clear sign of how happy the boy was upon seeing him, something he was not really used to and it meant a lot to him, it made him forget the past two days and it would make the next few hours so much easier, he knew.
"That … that would be … would be funny." The boy said, green eyes watching him with a mixture of amusement and wariness, like always, and again he doubted that this wariness would ever really vanish.
"Funny!" He huffed, but then he got off the chair behind his desk and led the boy to the more comfortable sofa that stood in one corner in his office. "Come here, child. How was your day so far?" He asked.
Well, in the end they had been sitting at the sofa, he, Severus, leaning against the armrest with one leg laying on the seat, his cup of coffee in one hand and Harry leaning with his back against his chest, his cup of hot chocolate in both his hands, with his head leaning at his shoulder and he had been running his free hand through the child's strands of black hair. That had been his third visit this afternoon, after Anotnin's mother and after Cormet's father.
After that short break Mrs. Parkinson had been over and then Nott Senior, his so far most difficult visit and he had known that he had to give Nott something really special – namely his, Severus' position in the Dark Lord's ranks one day. And Nott had accepted.
And now he simply felt tired and worn out, but it was over, three days of teacher-parent conferences, but it was over finally.
Leaving everything in his office he went towards his private quarters. He would have a nice dinner with Harry, and then he would get comfortable at the sofa with the boy before having an early bed time for both of them.
On Saturday he would take Harry to Diagon Alley for some last Christmas shopping, and soon they would be at Prince Manor for nearly four weeks, in ten days they would leave Hogwarts.
There were few Slytherins staying at Hogwarts this year, Theodore, Adrian, and Marcus only, and he already had spoken with Harry. They would invite the three boys over to Prince Manor for a few days during Christmas itself. On New Year's Eve they would visit Hogwarts to welcome the new years with them and the other teachers and students present at the castle during the holidays.
Opening the door to his private quarters he frowned upon seeing Minerva pacing his parlor.
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"Severus!" The blasted woman called out, clearly upset and he inwardly sighed, wondering what could have happened to Harry this time, during the short time between his visit and now, only two hours later.
"What happened, Minerva?" He asked, nearly growled, his worry already at the highest point possible and he glanced into the room that was his son's.
"Thank Merlin, you're here, Severus!" The woman said without answering his question. "I really didn't know what to do anymore and I just was about to call over Poppy, even though I know how much he fears her still and …"
"Minerva!" He growled, softly enough so that Harry in his room wouldn't hear his annoyance but forceful enough so that Minerva knew – he meant it, he wanted an answer.
"Oh, Severus!" The woman sighed. "Harry was over to the great hall in the afternoon, for the announcement of the winner from the annual school competition." The blasted woman finally said and he groaned in frustration. That blasted school competition! The dead line had been on Tuesday and the announcement of the winner had been today! How could he have forgotten about this! He had planned to be present during the announcement, just in case.
"Everything seemed fine, Harry was together with Draco and Theodore." Minerva continued still sounding upset. "Until I called out Harry's name for being the winner of the competition. At first nothing happened, and I already got worried, he just sat there, staring at me as if he were in shock, but then, from one moment to the other, I swear Severus, never before have I seen him moving so fast when he ran from the great hall!"
"I see." He said, taking a deep breath. "If you please excuse me, Minerva." The Potions Master then added, understanding what had happened.
Of course – Harry had won the competition and while he had never been the centre of any attention before, while he never had been the winner of anything, never had anyone acknowledging him doing something well, while he never had been praised for anything, always only scolded if he were lucky and locked away or beaten even, even if he had done something well – of course the child had not known how to handle the situation, and was now – most likely – hiding himself away beneath his bed.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself he entered the room that belonged to his son, went straight to the child's bed and sat into the armchair beside it.
"Why don't you come forth from that bed of yours so that we can have dinner, Harry?" He asked, slightly leaning forwards, leaning his elbows on his thighs. "Zilly has promised spinach and mashed potatoes, and we always cold add some of the sausages Amelie gave us on our way last time we visited Herbaceous' shop."
"Don' … don' wanna no … don' wanna no spinach …" Came the boy's soft answer from beneath the bed.
"You do realize that this was a double negation, Harry?" He asked, frowning. If the boy refused spinach – that meant it was serious business. "And a double negation is an affirmation."
"Don' … don' care." Came from beneath the bed and his frown deepened.
The boy never would give such an answer, absolutely never.
"What is wrong, Harry?" He asked, keeping his voice calm but strict, knowing that something was very wrong and that he should find a solution, and possibly before the boy worked himself up to unknown highs over the next few days.
There wasn't an answer this time but he could hear the boy moving below the bed and he sighed – most likely Harry had just moved over into the corner, away from the edge of the bed and out of his reach.
He knew that he easily could call the boy forth from beneath the bed if he ordered him to, Harry would obey. But Harry was beneath his bed in the first place, a place that was his safe haven and he wasn't sure if he should take this place from the boy. On the other hand – at least he should be able getting the child from beneath his bed, and if it were just for the sake of an emergency.
But this here was no emergency.
Summoning the potions journal – the one from the last month which he still had not read yet, he leaned back in the armchair, reading, and simply waiting.
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Peering from beneath the bed he could see the Professor's feet and with a sigh he pondered his possibilities.
He could stay down here for some time, he still had his sweets after all and he still had a few cookies and a piece of bread down here either. And he had eaten very much lately too, so he would survive for a long time down here.
But on the other hand, he knew that it was silly.
He knew that the Professor wouldn't beat him just because he had done better than Dudley. He didn't even know if Dudley had partaken in the competition to begin with! He didn't know …
The Professor would not beat him, he knew it, but staying down here, stubbornly, that would make him angry, because the man was sitting there, and he knew that he wouldn't leave anytime soon, at least not before he came forth.
It was just one of those things the man did, to show him that he was there, and that he – he didn't know …
But if he came forth now and the Professor was angry at him because he had been so stubborn, then surely he would be in really, really big trouble, maybe more than he could handle and …
And how could he come forth now anyway? How could he …
For a moment he looked under the pillow the Professor had placed down there, beneath the bed, and he sighed with relief at the piece of dried bread and the cookies he had hidden there over the past few weeks. It was there still, whatever would happen, or could happen, he still had something to eat and he wouldn't …
But it had been the Professor, who had placed the pillow down there to begin with, and the mattress, and the blanket too.
And he knew – if the Professor had really wanted to force him out from under the bed, then he easily could have done so, but he hadn't. He hadn't and that surely had to count for something? And now the Professor was sitting there since only Merlin knew how many hours! And that surely was a sign that he cared?
It surely wasn't fair of him that he let the Professor sitting there and waiting until he came forth, and just because he was a coward that feared his rightful punishment.
Slowly he inched a bit closer to the edge of the bed, prepared to meet the angry eyes of the older wizard.
But the only thing added to the man's feet he now could see were his legs.
"Sir?" He hesitantly asked, carefully, not sure if it was the right thing to do, not sure if …
"Yes, Harry?" The man asked and he hitched a breath.
The Professor didn't sound angry.
And the Professor still called him Harry, not Mr. Snape or even Potter, or boy, or freak, or … he called him Harry still.
And there was no violent movement that indicated that he would pull him forth now, now that he was closer to the edge of his hiding place.
"I … I'm … I'm sor-sorry." He said, just in case.
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He could hear the boy shifting beneath the bed and he nearly held his breath for a moment, hoping that Harry would make a move to come out. He didn't want to take his son from beneath the bed by force, but he neither would have the boy missing a meal and it was already late for dinner to begin with.
"Sir?" Came the boy's hesitant question a few moments later and for a moment he actually could bathe in the feeling of being proud at the boy for making that first move.
"Yes, Harry?" He asked and he could hear the boy down there hitching a breath.
Merlin, was he that scared that he thought him, Severus, using his given name, being something so valuable?
Of course the child was. And of course the child thought so.
It was one of those moments when he was reminded of how difficult the child still was, of how very damaged he still was, and of how much time they would still need. And yet, he was the child, and here he was able to make a first move.
"I … I'm … I'm sor-sorry." The boy said and he nearly sighed. Of course Harry would apologize.
"There is no need to apologize, child." He said. "You have done nothing wrong. You have done well in a competition, you have been startled upon Minerva's announcement of your winning, you have gone to your hiding place, but none of these things had been wrong, Harry. Are you ready to come out for dinner now?" He asked when there was no answer.
A moment later another shift beneath the bed told him that – yes, the boy would come forth, even if slowly, but without him having to use an order.
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He had watched the boy close during dinner, Harry having been frightened and unsure at first, but the child had calmed somewhat while they had been sitting at the table and he thought that he could notice a pattern.
Whenever there was something new to Harry, then he easily got upset, scared, unsure, and sometimes even into a panic attack. But the moment regularity was back, a stable order of events and occurrences, of things that were well known to the child, which he had gotten used to over the time, then he got calm again, sometimes comfortable, sometimes not comfortable, but calm.
He knew that in the beginning Harry had been scared – very scared – of the physical exercises, really scared, but even if he was not comfortable with them, he had gotten used to them and he knew what to expect during them, and so he was calm while doing them with him. It was different with new situations, like being praised. The child still didn't know what could happen out of it, still didn't know how to deal with it, and so a panic was preassigned.
"So, care to show me this blasted rhyme of yours that was the cause of you being so very upset this evening, Harry?" He asked, not willing to let the subject go without showing Harry that – never mind what he thought or feared – he knew, he cared and he wouldn't hurt him. But neither would he let a subject just go.
Well, the boy had other plans, as he was shaking his head, quickly and with large eyes.
"You have won this competition, Harry." He said, calmly while he leaned back in his seat, taking the cup with the hot tea. "For what I am very proud of you, by the way, And that means that your work will be printed not only in the school news, but it also will be sent to the ministry where it can partake in the competition with other schools – if you so wish."
Well, the startled and wide eyed headshake of the boy was information enough – the boy didn't wish so.
"You do not have to, child, but you could, it is your decision." He said. "Not to mention that there will be a prize for the winner."
"Don' … don' care." The boy murmured and it was clear that he wouldn't send his work to the ministry, never mind what.
"Will you show me anyway?" He asked, but there wasn't an answer except of his son shrugging his shoulders.
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Well, that had been during dinner, and now Harry had prepared for bed. The child had taken a bath, like he did every evening, enjoying the warm water, enjoying being allowed to have a bath even, and then he had slipped into his pyjamas and had brushed his teeth. He had done their daily exercises and then he had massaged the boy's back, shoulders and limbs, like every evening before he had covered the small form with first the thin and woolen blanket and then with the thick and heavy eiderdown.
He had exchanged Harry's blanket weeks ago, when the weather had started becoming cold and uncomfortable. They were living in the dungeons after all and even if he had a nearly constant fire running in Harry's room, the boy was so easily freezing, so small and thin and fragile still, having absolutely no meat on his bones that would keep him warm, and he surely would not take any risks with that particular child.
However, just a few minutes later the boy had run from his room, a folded piece of parchment in his hand and without a word, without even looking at him, he had dashed through the parlor, to the coffee table and had placed the parchment there, in front of him, already turning and dashing back into his room before he, Severus, could have said a word.
He had been sitting there for a few moments, barely able to move and he had blinked at the parchment in near shock knowing what it was about, but then he had gotten off the armchair and over to his son's room, looking inside. The boy had been laying in his bed, the heavy blanket drawn over his head and the entire form hidden away.
He had approached the bed, had sat down onto the edge of the mattress and gently he had pulled the blanket away from what he thought could be his son's face. A moment later wide green eyes had looked up at him, unsurely, and whispering a soft "just sleep, child" he had run his fingers over the pale face and through the black hair.
And now he was sitting here, not sure if he should huff at the idiot child's fears or if he should smirk at the bravery he had shown in dashing through the room and giving him the parchment where he had written down the rhyme for that blasted competition.
Shaking his head he opened the piece of parchment and then started reading.
you can build – 'round yourself – the largest wall
use for this the best and safest findable stone
but whatever you do – one day it will fall
and mostly this will happen, while you're alone
whatever future with your hands you have made
those walls are just safe while they're close
and I assure you, you cannot run from your fate
nor can the water, crushing at the coast
thousand books you can open now, while reading – unlearned
through wasted lands you can go, searching now – untaught
down new roads, paths no one ever walked you can go – unturned
whilst memories you search in your mind are fading – unthought
something somehow reminds you, of something you left behind
not within your walls nor now outside you really feel free
present memories – ignored – and no comfort you can find
and I ? I just can assure you, you will exactly feel like me
whatever future – and what fear – you now will face
without your safe walls which crumbled, you'll be alone
you will learn, there is nothing, not one single place
not one time, nor one spot, where you'll feel like home
maybe once you will find someone, you will find a friend
but in your constant fear, you will not see it in his eyes
you will not believe, and you will not trust, until the end
the comfort he would be willing to give, you will not recognize
how often you search – of rejection and disdain you search a trace
sitting beside, just searching, over and over, while waiting still
and you go on searching – for some of those signs in his face
but you cannot see the freedom he would give – and you never will
but even if – the first time it is you begin to see some lights
and you can feel it within yourself – whatever you have seen of pain
and you now know – within yourself – you're tired to all the fights
and you now know – you are tired – you are tired of all the slain
all 'round you is now – in this moment – just dark and still
you do not even know what now to do, while sitting there
and you feel – the first time you feel – you have a free will
which choice to take – and the only thing you feel is despair
for without any sureness you take your choice
even if you know it may be one out of your fear
but you do not listen to this silent voice
you just know, you cannot destroy someone near
but without someone – standing at your side
you again will be – wherever you stand – alone
and without someone – you just have to go on and fight
and you know – with your sword in hand you'll be gone
exiled – by yourself
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To be continued
Next time in Tears falling in darkness
A school play and some last preparations for the Christmas holidays
Added author's note
thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …
At the present time it looks like this:
365 Points - Slytherin
312 Points - Ravenclaw
300 Points - Gryffindor
162 Points - Hufflepuff
September 13th, 2013
just wish to inform you about another story – "… and sit a while with me …" – which will shortly start on the Profile of mrs. trabi here on fanfiction.
you will find some known persons in this story, and you will find one or another known incident in the story because the author of the story is me, even though I am posting this story not on my own profile but on my daughter's, and for several reasons so – one of it being because it's a rather unique story compared to my others.
more details you will learn while visiting mrs. trabi's profile:
www fanfiction net /u/2473886/mrs-trabi