In the Midst of the Night

In the Midst of the Night

Chapter 5 - Mad As A Hatter, the Clown

The corridor was silent, except for the echoes of gentle, merry laughter and the soft utterances that reverberated down the hall, haunting the near empty school. The torches aligning the walls did little to illuminate the passage but they cast a tender glow upon the floors.

The frail silence was soon broken by footsteps resounding loudly in the hallway. Truth be told, Severus was quite angry with himself. In his arms he held a tiny boy, one whose name was Harry Potter. His mind was befuddled and he owed the whole situation to momentary insanity. Many a time in his past he had had those god-forsaken instants where his mind and body were separated entities leaving him with dreadful outcomes in the end.

What had I been thinking? - comforting the blasted child? I should have just left the brat there, he thought savagely, a dark scowl twisting his features. I should just drop the bloody boy right now! But the tendril of compassion - is it really compassion? I don't feel such things toward Potters... - that had clutched at his heart only moments before wrenched his insides painfully at the thought. Severus' glower deepened and his midnight black eyes swirled with fury. Unbeknownst to him, his arms had tightened considerably around Harry in his rage and the boy made a small sound of discomfort in his throat as he buried his head further into the crook of the man's neck. The professor looked down at the child with a frown before loosening his hold with a defeated sigh. Only today, he thought harshly, while no one can see, but his rough demeanor lost some of its luster by the false undertone. Well...at least Minerva isn't here.

His pace slowed as he neared the infirmary. The door was open and light from within the room shined into the hallway. Severus walked inside to see Madam Pomfrey in a fit speaking rapidly to the headmaster. Upon his arrival, however, she burst into a round of hysterical tears at the sight of the small boy in the potions master's arms. Albus smiled that infuriating smile of his - does he know everything? - and patted Poppy's shoulder reassuringly.

"You see? Of course Mr. Potter is all right. He probably just needed a stroll is all," he was saying gently to her. Professor Dumbledore's gaze seemed to penetrate deep within his former pupil's soul and Severus busied himself with ambling towards one of the beds. He lowered the Potter boy onto it with forced patience, but stopped when Harry wouldn't unclasp his hands from around the elder man's neck and legs from around the professor's waist.

With pursed lips, Severus tugged slightly on the child's hands, but the boy refused to let go. In exasperation, the professor looked at the headmaster, his eyes pleading none too subtly for help. Light chuckles and amused sniffs were his responses from Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.

He tugged harder on the boy's hands and, thankfully, the child relinquished his death grip and sank onto the soft hospital bed. After he pulled off his glasses, he began rubbing his eyes tiredly as he yawned. His nose crinkled up adorably and he shrank beneath the warmth of the sheets before his chest rose in a rhythmic pattern once more.

Severus scowled at the child, then at Poppy and Albus who both laughed good-naturedly. With that last look, he turned on his heels and made for the door, but the headmaster stopped him, saying, "Severus, a moment, if you please?" The potions master paused on his trek to the exit with tense shoulders that revealed the intensity of his anger. At what his fury was aimed towards at, however, was unclear. "Would you mind it terribly, if I asked you to stay one more night?" queried the ancient wizard.

Yes, of course I would, he thought nastily. You've kept me here for two weeks into summer hols doing blasted chores that you could have anyone do - pick up Potter, go get Potter's things, save Potter...Potter, Potter, bloody blasted Potter! Severus turned around and looked at his mentor with a disgruntled expression plain upon his face. In the elder man's eyes, he saw a sparkle of sincere inquiry, and felt his reserves explode and crash upon the ground in soon forgotten minuscule pieces.

With an exhausted sigh, he said, "Of course not, Albus." The elder man smiled and his eyes conveyed gratitude that, had Severus been a man of a lesser degree, would have made him blush to the raven colored roots of his hair. "May I ask why?"

"Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be arriving early tomorrow morning for a meeting. Since you are still here, I thought that you would like join Poppy and myself and meet him," said Albus warmly.

Severus looked at him indifferently before nodding and walking out the door. He stepped into the hallway and only then did he remember that he had left his trunk where he had found Potter. Then another thought struck him, quite literally for he stopped in his tracks with a pained expression. Where was that blasted hallway again?

And as he ambled miserably through the halls of Hogwarts, he wondered, Hasn't today been awful enough?

~*~

When Harry awoke the next morning, he slowly sat up and relished the feeling of only minimal aches on his abdomen. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table and put them on after adjusting the tape holding the two pieces together. With that, he glanced around. When he saw no one present in the room, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and looked down at the floor that seemed so far away.

He slid off the bed and his bare feet met the cold stone of the floor. The coolness swept throughout the boy and he shivered, remembering his dream from last night. Harry had seen a woman named Delilah bent over her child, crying as the youth stared lifelessly back at her with a shocked expression. The scary man had turned on her with the terrifying wooden stick, crying out the word that began the pain that Harry felt with every victim - Crucio! - and he would never forget the expression of malicious glee that had lingered upon the scary man's face. The dream had ended with the same flash of brilliant green light that frightened the poor boy almost every night.

With a shudder, Harry crept across the room, peeking into the office. Finding no one there, he walked up to the door and tugged on the handle. It turned slightly and he pulled backwards upon it, using his weight to move the heavy door. Once it was opened, he rubbed his side, trying to dispel the minor ache that had emerged.

Harry stepped out of the infirmary and into the hallway where faint rays of light fell into the castle past stained glass windows. Admiring them for only a few minutes, he walked down the corridor with a curious air thick about him. This place was strange - strange as that street that Professor Snape had taken him to. As he turned a corner, Harry felt waves of warmth rush over him and knew that somehow, this castle called Hoggerts was much like the strange street.

"Oi, you there!" whispered a voice nearby in a conspiratorial tone. Harry jumped and looked around guiltily. "I'm over here!" came the voice again. It squeaked at the end of every sentence and a comical laugh echoed in the hallways, making shivers of fear run up the child's spin. "You must be blind, mate! Can't you see me?" Another laugh resounded in Harry's ears. "I'm standin' right in front of you!"

Movement caught his eyes and he looked forward straight at...bloody hell!...straight at a painting! Had Harry been warned, he would have dashed away to avoid all confrontation with the crazy waving clown in the painting, but, as he had not been, he stood, rooted to his spot, with an expression of sheer horror upon his face.

"Well, what're you just standing there staring at, eh? Ain't you goin' to say hello, Potter?" questioned the clown in his squeaky voice, bringing his fists to his hips in an indignant sort of way. At the boy's slack jawed look, he chuckled and chuckled until peals of laughter escaped his lips and he was rolling around upon the dizzying array of colors that the boy assumed was the floor. His huge red shoes were up, kicking the air above him while his curly orange wig and gleaming black top hat fell off his bald head. The clown's white gloved hands were clutching his chest as if he were in pain, but his laughter was so jolly that there was no question about it - he was laughing so hard he was dying!

All of a sudden, he jumped up, pulled his wig and his top hat on, and took a great breath before exhaling - his mouth forming a large 'O'. Harry blinked out of his stupor and rubbed his eyes, staring at the painting. I've gone bloody starkers..., he thought, near hysteria. I am now officially raving mad...At least, that's what he hoped the case was ...for what in heaven's name could it mean when little boys began seeing paintings that could move? - paintings in which the people within them could bloody move?

"You ain't mad, if that's what you're thinkin', itty bitty Potter boy," said the clown with a high pitched giggle. And Harry felt faint - bloody...yes! That's exactly what he had been thinking! This figment of his imagination must be a mind-reader! "Don't fret - I'm just Mad As A Hatter, the Clown!" He pulled off his glimmering black top hat and did a little jig before bowing grandly at Harry. The creature then pointed downwards, his painted crimson mouth widening into a gigantic grin. "See, look there! See that thing all shiny right under my picture? - that's my label and it's aaaaaaall mine!" Harry looked and could make out a few inscriptions on a burnished silver label. Carefully sounding out the words, he found that it indeed said Mad As A Hatter, the Clown.

When he looked back up at the clown, it was bouncing up and down on a huge rubber ball that hadn't been there before. He was bouncing so hard and high that it was a wonder that his bright orange wig and frighteningly shiny top hat didn't fall right off his head. Harry decided that he wouldn't ask about that - he still could barely get his mind around seeing a moving painting. Seeing as how he had already gone mad, he decided to indulge himself. "How do you know my name?" he wondered timidly. He wrung his hands and looked up, past his lashes, at the bouncing clown.

"Old chap, everyone knows you 'round these parts o' course!" cried the clown, as if it were common knowledge. He looked left and right. "See! Look, everyone agrees! We saw you last night, we did!" Harry looked to the frames on either side of the clown's and saw more moving pictures. Those within the paintings were nodding vigorously at him with smiles. He rubbed his eyes before looking at Mad As A Hatter once more.

"Oh," he whispered plainly.

The clown nodded and winked a very obvious wink before motioning towards the boy with a finger. He cupped one side of his mouth as if ready to tell the boy a secret. "Hey, you ain't gots any of those Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, do you? Your Pop and that Padfoot fellow used to take me some every once in a while," declared Mad As A Hatter in a quick and excited voice.

Harry frowned, barely understanding a word. Beerty Boots Ev - Every Flavor Beans...he repeated inwardly. He looked at the clown with a baffled expression and the creature sighed, suddenly looking depressed. All at once, Mad As A Hatter's wide grin became a drooping azure blue mouth. The wig fell off and drifted to the floor, turning a gloomy gray color. "That'd be a no, eh?" Harry looked at him helplessly and shook his head.

Then, without warning, The wig and the clown's top hat exploded into flames and horns grew from his head. His eyes turned black as night with thick outlines, making him look evil and sinister, and a wicked grin appeared upon his face. Red slits as pupils regarded Harry nastily as a blood red, three forked spear appeared in Mad As A Hatter's hand. "Well, that's the wrong answer, Potter!" cackled the clown manically.

Harry screamed and dashed away, not looking back at the terrible painting. His screams began to fade as he got tired. He slowed his pace and looked back, half expecting the painting to be chasing after him.

Just then, a voice exclaimed furiously, "Well you can very well go to hell and dance a bloody waltz with the devil! See if I care!"

The boy stopped in his tracks at the angered voice and quickly ducked behind a statue, fearing another talking painting. Footsteps could be heard and, despite the fact that they might be scary strangers, Harry was put at ease at the fact that it wasn't another creepy, moving picture. It seemed that a group of people were emerging from a room past the corner and having a very heated discussion. He hid his eyes behind his hands and ducked his head down to his chest in fright.

"I've been to hell and back many times, DeMay...in fact - I suggest you take a trip. Satan himself would like to see you again," said a man with ice dripping lethal drops of venom with every word. Harry looked up in alarm at the familiar harsh voice that, despite its hostility, made him feel secure. Through the crack between the statue and the wall, the boy could see a tall figure in billowing black robes. It was Professor Severus Snape! But...he was angry - extremely angry at the man who was glaring furiously at him.

"Please, Lucas, Severus, enough with your childish bickering!" cried a voice Harry recognized as Madam Pomfrey's, but the two men ignored her completely.

"Are you implying something, Snape?" spat the other man and Harry cowered before the mad gleam in DeMay's eyes.

"Take it as you will," replied Severus coldly. The man was calm and collected before the livid DeMay, yet his demeanor sent more tremors of fear through the boy than the other's enraged yelling.

Lucas DeMay scowled a scowl that was nothing compared to Severus' own. "I believe this meeting is over," he said in a low tone. He turned to Poppy, suddenly ignoring the potions professor. "Please tell Albus I'm terribly sorry that I couldn't stay for tea. There is much work I need to attend to before the start of next term. If you'll excuse me..." But it was then that his hazel colored eyes met Harry's emerald ones past the crack between the statue and the wall. "What in the - hey! You there!" he exclaimed.

Harry jumped, fear shooting through him at the shout, and bolted from his hiding place, ready to run down the hall even though the scary picture was there. This man was an enemy of Professor Severus Snape's! He must be very bad! Harry just had to get away...but before he was two steps into his escape, a hand grasped tightly at his arm and he was pulled viciously backwards. He fell to the ground with a loud 'THUD', and trembled as he vainly tried pulling his arm from the fierce hold. The harsh clutch at his arm was too near in his memory to be put away as harmless and he recoiled from his captor with the recollection of Mr. McKinnon's beatings.

There was a loud 'SNAP' and suddenly, DeMay's grasp was gone from his arm. Regardless of this fact, there would be ugly purple marks on the boy's arm before long. There was a swishing sound and Harry was soon confronted with soft black material. With tears welling in his eyes, he rushed over and desperately clutched it in tiny fists, burying his head within the folds of the black cloak.

Severus glanced down at the child with exterior indifference before turning a cold glower towards the man called Lucas DeMay who was rubbing his forearm with a disgruntled expression. At the child's soft sobs of fright, DeMay looked surprised. "Who -," but he was crudely interrupted.

"As you said earlier, DeMay, I believe that this meeting is over," said Severus, his midnight black eyes staring frostily at the other man as his wand remained directed towards him.

Lucas ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair and looked up at Severus once the child was out of view. "What's he doing here? A bit young for Hogwarts isn't he?" questioned DeMay, his earlier anger and the wand forgotten in his curiosity.

Madam Pomfrey, noticing the darkening expression upon the potions professor's face, quickly pushed his wand away and said, "His name is Harry Potter."

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's hazel eyes widened considerably and he tried peering past Severus at the child who tried to hide within the elder man's cloak. "Harry - Harry Potter?" he stammered. His eyes darted to the scar, still prominent in spite of the raven black hair astray atop the youth's head. "Bloody hell!" He saw Poppy's disapproving expression and muttered an apology. "Well, Harry," said Lucas, fishing desperately for words. "I - er - well, terribly sorry, old chap! Didn't mean to give you a scare..."

Harry heard the gentle words of apology and tried moving further into the black cloak as he wrapped his arms around a leg. He had heard consoling whispers from others before. Possible parents always spoke kindly yet when Harry went home with them he found out that however nice their words may have been, they always ended up being meaningless.

A hand soothingly touched the small of his back and Harry's trembling slowed. He peeked cautiously from the comforting darkness of the black material and was greeted by unfathomable shadow filled eyes. Harry bit down on his lip and averted his gaze, pulling his arms away and taking a few steps backwards. The hand supporting him from behind stayed firmly where it was, preventing the boy from moving away and Harry's tense demeanor melted away. Severus turned his gaze back to DeMay.

"I believe that you were leaving?" said the potions professor with forced patience.

At that moment, jolly whistling and footsteps met the ears of the quartet in the hallway. Professor Dumbledore strode towards them with a teeny house elf trailing behind him with a tray of tea, cups, and pastries. His sparkling sapphire blue eyes regarded them past half moon spectacles and he smiled amiably at them. "Well, hello, Mr. Potter. Awake I see," he greeted warmly. Harry stepped behind Severus again and Albus chuckled. He looked at the three adults with a questioning glance.

"I was just leaving, Albus," said Lucas, a blush arising upon his cheeks.

The elderly wizard looked at him, then at Harry who had ducked away behind the potions professor. "Are you certain you don't wish to stay for tea and pastries? The house elves' scones are quite marvelous if I do say so myself," the headmaster told the man with a bright smile.

Professor DeMay shook his head apologetically. "I really must be getting home. I've a curriculum to write after all, eh?" said he with a small grin.

"Ah, well, another time then, Lucas?" The younger man nodded and after sweeping them a dramatic bow with a merry wink, he made his way down the hall, only pausing to look over his shoulder one last time. When he had disappeared past a corner, Albus clapped his hands together and looked at both Poppy and Severus with a bright expression. "Well, now that Mr. Potter is awake, I believe we can discuss with whom he shall be spending the next two months with?" he said with an inquiring undertone. Severus moved away from the boy and standing before the three adults, Harry felt awkward and exposed. He chanced a look upwards and met Albus Dumbledore's compassionate smile. "Now, Harry, Madam Pomfrey is willing to be your guardian this summer. Would you like to accompany her to...where is it again, Poppy? I fear that my age is finally catching up with me."

The nurse chuckled. "It's my sister's cottage in Northern Ireland," she reminded him.

"Ah, yes, of course. Penelope was three years ahead of you, correct?" At Poppy's nod, he went on. "Penny Pomfrey is an Auror and will help Madam Pomfrey to take good care of you."

She nodded once more and smiled tenderly down at Harry. "There are a bundle of children your age, Harry. I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time at the cottage."

"What do you say, Mr. Potter?" wondered the headmaster, looking at the boy imploringly.

Harry tore his gaze from the suddenly very interesting hem of his hospital night shirt and looked first at Professor Dumbledore, then at Madam Pomfrey. She smiled at him, something akin to amused understanding in the depths of her gentle eyes. He liked the nurse - for a stranger. She was nice to him and gave him drinks that made him feel better, even though the drinks smelled awful and tasted even worse. But would she treat him like the possible parents had? Was she just being kind now to be cruel to him later?

His gaze ended up on Professor Severus Snape. At the dark scowl directed towards him, Harry quickly glanced away and nodded quickly in fright at the headmaster. Albus chuckled and laid a tender hand upon his shoulder. "You will be fine," he said softly and the boy sighed, seemingly exhaling all the tension that had been pent up in his tiny body.

As he was led back to the infirmary, he couldn't help but take a look back at the ominous man that walked threateningly down the hallway in a swirl of black - comfy black, thought Harry with a wry inward smile - cloaks. Couldn't he have gone home with Professor Snape instead? But the image of the dark scowl aimed at him came unbidden to his mind and the boy shivered at the sinister feeling that ran through him.

Perhaps a summer at a cottage with the kind nurse would be all right after all. And maybe this summer would be different. Just maybe.

~*~

Severus strode down the hall and rubbed his eyes. The blasted hallway last night was a hard tone to find and he had ended up bidding a house elf to fetch his forgotten trunk for him - humiliating as the act was. He had, however, made it seem as if he were merely tired and didn't wish to do such a trivial job himself, but the house elf had looked at him with insightful humor in her humongous eyes that he had walked away in a bad temper.

He slammed open the door with one hand and pulled out his wand with the other. After fixing his room a last time and gathering his things, he levitated his trunk. With that, he left his room with only one last look at his chambers.

Finally! he thought with a heavy sigh. Summer hols have finally arrived for the forever working Severus Snape. Peace at last! He smirked and shook his head at the folly of his thoughts. It must be the hot weather getting to me, thought the man absently.

~*~

Harry changed within the confines of the curtains surrounding the hospital bed, and then slowly peeked out of his sanctuary. Madam Pomfrey had her back to him and seemed to be searching for something in handbag. She pulled out a wooden stick and turned around, looking business like.

The poor boy was impeccably frightened that the kind nurse would have an evil wooden stick like the scary man in his dreams! - like the very evil man he had seen only last night, torturing poor Delilah and her child! Heavens above, why couldn't he escape the frightening images and recollections of the nightmares?

She pointed her wand and muttered words that he couldn't hear. He was too busy staring in fright at her wooden stick! Things started zipping around the room. Cabinets opened and objects flew into them as if on their own accord. Feeling faint, Harry inched towards the door.

He had to get away - he had to escape! Bloody hell, the woman was making things move all over the room! It must be a demonic act! She must be possessed by Satan himself! Oh, Lord...Why was she doing this - this, all this 'magic'? Couldn't she see how horrible it was?

Once he was close enough, he dashed out of the room and...and ran straight into someone - or rather, something.

He ended up falling hard upon the ground. The boy jumped up and found him self staring at a...floating trunk. Oh no! They're chasing me! he thought wildly. They're trying to stop me from getting away!

All of a sudden, "What, may I ask, are you doing, Potter?" a familiar cold voice asked. Harry's head snapped up and he looked within the depths of the potions professor's shadow filled eyes.

"I -," but he was saved from an awkward answer when Madam Pomfrey walked into the hallway to confront them with curiosity, her wand still at hand. Harry rushed behind the potions professor with a cry of fear and once again found himself clutching onto a leg. "Don't make me go, please!" he whispered into the soft black cloak. "Oh please, I'll do anything! But please don't make me go! I'll be good, I promise!" His sobs overrode his almost inaudible words and he held onto the elder man's leg desperately. Severus looked down at the boy who was once again cowering behind him.

"What in heaven's name...?" Poppy began.

Albus Dumbledore chose that moment to step past a corner. "Ah, all ready to leave then, everyone?" he wondered with a bright smile. He saw the child sobbing silently into Severus' cloak, and Severus scowling down at the boy, and Madam Pomfrey with a slight smile upon her face. The nurse's and the headmaster's eyes met and within both gazes, a strange glint shimmered vividly.

"Evidently not, headmaster. As you can see, there is a child attached to my leg," said Severus frostily.

The elder man's smile never faltered. "Mr. Potter, I do believe that Poppy is almost ready to depart from the school," he said in a gently tone.

Severus lips pursed when Harry's clutch on his leg tightened, but he swallowed a nasty comment when he became aware of the child's trembling. The boy seemed to be uttering something under his breath - a chant of sorts and, if the man listened closely, he could make out the words "no more magic, no more magic please..." being sobbed.

"You may, however, accompany Severus to his manor, if you'd rather..." said Professor Dumbledore softly.

The potions master looked up quickly at the headmaster with a dumbfounded expression, but Albus wasn't looking at him. The child slowly withdrew his arms from around the elder man's leg and peered cautiously out of the darkness of the cloak. His emerald eyes were wide and bright, looking imploringly up at the headmaster with a doubtful look. Albus nodded in reassurance and Harry sniffed, swiping a sleeve across his face to brush away his tears.

"R-really?" he wondered softly, a skeptical tone in his voice as he hiccupped. He looked from the headmaster to Professor Snape who stood with his arms crossed, scowling darkly at the ceiling.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," Albus told him gently. "Would that suit you better?"

Harry nodded slowly and turned his gaze downwards so that he could stare intently at the suddenly fascinating ground. "All right then, why don't we get your things together, dear?" said Madam Pomfrey with a kind smile. She guided him back into the infirmary leaving Albus to face the darkest scowl Severus had ever placed upon him.

The elder man chuckled with mirth and said gleefully, "Oh come, Severus, what was I to do? The poor boy was miserable and Poppy and I both knew it."

"You could send him somewhere else," suggested the professor in an icy tone. Albus just shook his head, still chuckling cheerfully. "What am I to do with a seven year old boy at my manor? There will be no one his age he can play with, hell - no one at all besides me!" At his mentor's expression, his scowl intensified. "And I am not about to go gallivanting around with a child - and the Potter boy at that! How will I work on my potions with him there?"

"Severus, I know you will find the time to work on your precious potions. I simply didn't want to send Mr. Potter off with someone he didn't trust," he said delicately. At this, some of Severus' anger faded away. "Furthermore, with what you told me about the child's primary magical practice, I believe that it is imperative that he be trained at an early age. With supporters of Voldemort's still lingering about England, he will need a means to defend himself. In the mean time, you've enough experience with defense that I trust you unconditionally. I hope that during this summer, you will teach him the basics of magic so he will not let his power run out of control."

Professor Snape stared at Albus for a long moment. He sighed in defeat and when he met the headmaster's eyes once more, he saw a smile of gratitude grace his features. Dejectedly, he shook his head and ran a hand through his raven black hair.

The boy and the nurse soon stepped out of the room, Harry holding onto a rucksack that looked as if it were heavier than the child himself. Severus levitated it from the boy's arms, ignoring the look of momentary fear flashing across the youth's face. With a last nod at Poppy and Albus, he turned and began strolling down the hall. Harry jogged to catch up and he looked up at the man. If Severus noticed the obvious stare the boy placed upon him, he didn't give any outward sign of it. The child felt his heart skip a beat as they reached the doors. They were leaving the school, and Harry felt at ease for the first time in many years. He walked confidently with the elder man and never looked back once.

As the duo stepped from Hoggerts School of Crafts and Wizardry grounds, Harry slipped his hand into the larger one of Professor Severus Snape and smiled at the gentle squeeze of reassurance.