TBGCTBGC
He Defines Me
Chapter Three
Harry was bored, he’d rarely been so bored. Master always kept things around for him to do, games, and magic things, and he always left any number of interesting books laying around. Severus kept none of those. His room was far more elaborate, much larger, but dark, and it smelled of damp stone, though upon inspection, Harry found the walls were not wet at all, just cold.
The book he had shoved under the couch turned rapidly boring, there weren’t even any good pictures for him to look at. He’d read some of it anyway, but found that he didn’t understand the majority, like the mentions of virgin sacrifices. Master had said a sacrifice was when you gave something up to get something else. But what was a virgin?
Putting it down after an hour of trying to decipher the text, he began looking around for something else to do. A desk in the far right hand corner caught his eye and he scurried over, sitting on the floor, and rummaging through the various scrolls piled around it. He opened one carefully, "The uses of Wolfsbane."
He’d gotten only a few lines into it, before putting it away. It seemed to be an essay of sorts, and it wasn’t very good; poorly written in fact. Grabbing another one, he found it titled much the same. Strange, what would anyone want with two essays on Wolfsbane, neither of which seemed very accurate from Harry’s limited knowledge?
Flopping bonelessly on the couch, he stared at his finger nails absently, enjoying the feel of cool leather on his abdomen; he’d abandoned the shirt the moment he was alone. Master had insisted he keep his fingernails well trimmed and manicured. Looking at them now, there was no denying they could use a file, but he doubted the man kept anything like that around. In fact, the man kept nothing around of entertainment. It was all boring instruction manuals of some sort, and scrolls that made little sense.
There were some stopped vials in a heavily warded cupboard, but he’d learned years ago not to drink anything that wasn’t clearly labeled or specifically given to him. The last time that had happened Master had insisted he stay as a girl until it wore itself off. It took weeks. The time before that he’d lost his voice for two months. The time before that he’d done it on purpose; but he was five, bored, and ‘pepper up,’ had sounded fun.
He was about to roll over and try to sleep when the doors flung open. The man called Dumbledore came in followed by two women who seemed to be supporting Severus. It wasn’t an uncommon site to him, Master had come back in such a state more than once, but that did nothing to stave off Harry’s curiosity.
Jumping from the couch, he followed them to the bedroom doors and leaned against the frame. Albus watched Minerva and Poppy lay Severus on the bed before turned to face the child waiting in the doorway. His head was cocked to one side, eyes furrowed together, as if he were doing something very difficult. He motioned the boy over, putting a hand on his shoulder as he neared the bed. After a moment of staring, Harry looked up at the old man, "What happened to him?"
"I had a picnic." Severus voice was croaked and dry. Albus didn’t wonder if it was from screaming.
Ignoring his spy’s sarcasm for what it was, an attempt not to break down in front of the others, he turned his attention away, "He was punished, Harry."
"Why?"
For a moment Albus wondered if the boy was being insolent, or mouthing off, but the curious expression and eager eyes showed neither. "Voldemort punished him for not bringing you back."
Shrugging off the hand, Harry went up to the bed and crawled onto it, sitting on his knees next to the injured man and staring intently, "Why didn’t you take me back if he was going to punish you?" He sounded neither angry, nor annoyed, he didn’t seem to care that he’d been taken away, just curious as to what he had been thinking.
Severus eyed Harry for a moment, gauging what he should say, "Because, no person should have to be a pet."
The little nose wrinkled, far more confused than when he’d come in, "But, I already am."
Putting his arm around Harry’s shoulder, Albus eased him off the bed, and guided him towards the living room, "Come along, Harry, he needs rest."
Once the doors were shut, he located the discarded shirt and handed it back to Harry. For a moment, he did not think the child would take it, but, with what seemed like great reluctance, he did, pulling it over his head, and trying to stand still despite the strange feeling creeping across his skin. "Mister, why didn’t he take me back to Master?"
Seating the boy on the sofa, Dumbledore sat beside him, carefully choosing his words, "Let’s start with I am Professor Dumbledore, and I would like you to call me that."
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore."
"Also, you’ll have to start calling Him Voldemort, not Master."
Harry looked at his feet, playing with the carpet between his toes, "But, Master never lets me call him that. He forbid it."
Well, that was a small problem, "Are there any other names he forbid?" The child shook his head, still staring downward. "Well, then, how about Tom?"
Harry’s head shot up in surprise, "Tom?"
Dumbledore nodded, smiling, "That’s his real name. Think it will work?"
Once again eyeing his feet, he nodded, "I think so. I’ll try, but, why does my calling him Master bother everyone so much?"
"It’s complicated, Harry, and I doubt you’ll understand it yet. You see, what Tom did to you was wrong. No person is meant to live as a pet. It makes others upset to realize you did, and that they can’t take that away from you, Severus especially. He owed your father a great deal, and feels as though he has somehow let him down."
Harry turned around to face the older man, propping his feet on the sofa, and clutching his legs to his chest, "I have a father?"
Realizing he had the child’s interest he nodded, turning himself as well, "Had a father, he and your mother died trying to protect you from Voldemort. They were both very good people, Harry, and they loved you very much."
He seemed to be contemplating this for a moment, his toes pressing into the seat cushion, "What were their names?"
"James and Lilly Potter."
He was silent again for a moment, "So, I’m Harry Potter, then?" When the man nodded, he sighed, putting his chin on his knees, "This is very confusing, you know. You both keep saying that no one should be anyone’s pet, or that it was wrong, but I don’t see how that matters, because he raised me, and he’s nice to me, and he takes care of me. I’m never hungry, seldom bored, I get gifts of all sorts, I am happy. So what does it matter that I’m his pet?"
Ruffling the boy’s hair, Albus stood from the sofa, and picked up the blanket from the floor, "You’ll understand some day, Harry, right now, I think you need sleep."
Laying down on his side, he allowed the man to cover him up and closed his eyes. It was all so confusing, and he was tired.
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Severus slowly crawled his way back to consciousness, ever thankful that it was a weekend, and he would be allowed some peace and quite for the next two days. He was going to need it, Voldemort had been less than happy that his pet had gotten away. The only thing that had probably saved Severus life was that among the Dark Lord’s minions, Severus was the only Potions Master, and he was always in need of one.
Stretching out slightly, he found himself hindered by a weight on his chest and a warmth against his side. Opening his eyes reluctancy, he found himself staring down at a tangled mass of brown/black hair. Harry. The boy must have curled up next to him some time during the night.
He dumped the boy onto the bed as he sat up, delighting in the exhausted groan it achieved. What he was not so delighted by, however, was the look in the young boy’s face as he lifted his head and sudenly flung his arms around the Potion Master’s waist, "Morning, Mister!"
Shoving him off, Severus sudenly realized the shirt had disappeared again. Come to think of it, the shirt wasn’t there last night when he’d gotten back. "Go put the shirt on."
He pouted fetchingly, his head down, eyes upturned, "I don’t like the shirt, it itches." When the man’s face remained impassive, however, he sighed resignedly and half threw his upper body off the bed, groping for the clothing on the floor.
Once the shirt was loosely fitted in place, Severus sighed, "We’ll have to get you clothes, real clothes. But for now, a pair of pants will have to suffice. I suppose I’ll have to find someone of your size, someone in Slytherin, someone with clothes to spare... of course."
Harry watched Severus get out of the bed and pull on his thick robes, eyeing him apprehensively "Don’t move, stay right where you are."
-tbc-