In the Midst of the Night

In the Midst of the Night

Chapter 7 - Painting the Sky Gold

Severus prodded the boy forward with an impatient sound within his throat. He was exhausted and all he wanted now was sleep. The man barely noticed the boy crawl onto the second bed with effort and lie still before he himself pulled off his cloak.

He barely registered hitting the heavenly comfort of the plush bed before darkness enveloped him.

~*~

Lucas DeMay had a serious dilemma. Since June he had been impatiently awaiting for a meeting with the highly esteemed Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts for the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. When finally the day had arrived in the middle of July, he had been appalled to find that a former Death Eater was the current potions teacher.

Heavens above, could his luck get any worse?

And that blasted remark the man had dared to say! "Satan himself would like to see you again" - indeed! Lucas made a sound of frustration and stomped his foot unceremoniously upon the ground. Flushing red as he rubbed the now sore foot, he hopped into the kitchen. When at last the god-forsaken thing emitted a bearable pain, he let go of it and shrugged off his new cloak. It was a bit damp from the rains outside (Lucas wasn't the best at apparation and thus overreached the floo points by a few miles, landing outside) and so he let it dry on a chair.

Now that he thought about it, perhaps he had acted irrationally. Proclaiming that the bloody Death E - Snape was the devil's advocate may have been a little harsh upon greeting the ba - potions master, but...what could he do now? The headmaster seemed to think nothing of it afterwards...and Dumbledore was a bit nutters anyway.

With a great sigh, he conjured a tea kettle and poured himself a steaming cup. He inhaled its sweet aroma and sank onto a chair with a contented smile. Perhaps he could just stay away from the evil man. He sure as hell had done that many a time before...what was...well, a few more hundred times? It wasn't as if he had to collaborate with the potions professor. The man probably didn't want to talk to him either!

Thank the heavens...

But then, there was the subject of the boy at Hogwarts. Harry Potter was his name, they said - but that couldn't be, could it? So they had actually found the supposedly perished boy at long last. Seven years, Lucas thought absently. What would they do with the boy? Where would he go? The man felt a stab of compassion well within him. To think that he had frightened the poor child - grabbing him like that...it was a wonder how he would last a whole school year filled with children. Lucas made a note to remember to try and remain calm. Who knew what he would do when angered? Well...perhaps he had more of a reason to stay away from the bloody - Snape now. After all, no one wants any misfortunes...

When he had finished his cup of tea, he set it down upon the table and tried to remember to clean it later. He stood up and walked out, leaving the dozen or so cups around the kitchen and made for his bedroom. It was getting late and he was particularly tired after apparating for miles. After he dropped himself quite ungracefully onto his bed, he was asleep within moments.

~*~

Draco stumbled into the manor dripping mud and rainwater upon the gleaming marble floor. He looked down with an aura of indifference and bade a house elf to his aid. "Clean this up quickly - we don't want Father to see this," he said airily and shrugged off his dripping cloak. After he pulled off his boots and socks, he rubbed his feet upon a towel set down for him.

He was rather tired after a solo game of Quidditch. His broom was a Comet 260 - the newest model of the season - and he had had a wonderful time trying to find Samuel Snoot's Snitch for Children. Draco had insisted rather forcefully that he should get a real snitch, but his Father had remained adamant about the subject. "One step at a time, Draco," Lucius would say in that stern voice of his and that would always end the discussion.

The child handed his broom to a random house elf and positively strutted towards the living room like a king to his throne. He ended up running the last few yards and he landed upon the couch with a pleasurable bounce. "Hot chocolate please," said Draco and Dobby bowed his way out of sight. As he warmed himself by the fire, he wondered what P'fessor Snape would bring on his next visit. It often amused the little boy, whom had nothing to do when alone, to think of what the greatly admired potions master would surprise him with.

Maybe a real snitch!

Just then, there was the sound of swishing dress robes and Draco turned to see his mother passing by the door. She glanced his way and said, "Dinner," before continuing on to the dining room.

Draco sighed and looked down at his bare feet. The poor house elf came back and handed Draco his shoes and socks. "These are the wrong ones, you dolt! Get me the black ones, these are dark gray," he said with a boyish pout as he folded his arms across his chest. If he had been standing, he most probably would have stomped his foot upon the ground. Dobby speedily got the right shoes and socks and immediately began spouting apologies and banging his head against the nearest table. Draco watched him for a moment, his features slowly contorting. He stood up, hating the cold of the marble, and pulled the house elf forcefully from the cruel self-punishment. "What's the matter with you? I told you that's stupid!" he said and Dobby began apologizing once more, but Draco had already snatched the shoes and socks and stalked away.

~*~

Severus hid his face in the pillow when the unbearable shine of the sun filtered past the flimsy curtains of the inn. With a muffled groan of annoyance, he slowly sat up and rubbed his face tiredly. How was it that one can sleep for ten hours and not feel rested in the least?

There was the sound of shifting springs and he glanced over to see a tuft of raven black contrasting brilliantly with the crème white sheets of the blankets. A tiny bump gave a hint of something below the covers and the man simply shook his head. Almost silently, Severus rose and retreated into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

It ended up twenty minutes later when the man emerged from the steam filled bathroom. He came out clad in clean robes and saw that the boy had awoken and was sitting upon the bed, fiddling with the hems of the sheets as if unsure as to what he should and shouldn't be doing. Severus ignored him and proceeded to pack his things back into his trunk. That done, he stood up and pulled out his wand, levitating the trunk into the air.

Harry hopped off the bed as the professor made his way towards the door and tried, to no avail, to straighten his crumpled clothes. When Severus took the broom from against the wall, the boy felt a stab of excitement well within his chest.

I s'pose magic isn't that bad...thought the boy as he looked at the strange 'magic' broom with an admiring expression.

Severus dropped some more of the funny gold and silver and copper coins Harry had seen at the restaurant into the inn keeper's awaiting grasp. As they walked out, the child smelled the soothing aroma of a day after a heavy downpour. Puddles were scattered upon the road and as they walked on, Harry could have sworn he saw a smiling face reflected from within one of them. He immediately took the elder man's hand for comfort and looked at the puddle once more. The woman's face was gone.

The potions professor tugged on his hand and Harry walked quickly to catch up. He ended up jumping into a puddle, scattering murky water over his new shoes and clothes as well as Severus' clean ones. Warily, he chanced a glance up at the man, to see only pursed lips.

With a light heart, Harry thought, Hurray! Perhaps jumping in puddles it allowed! He saw a number of other children on the street jumping in puddles as well and they were all muddy. Harry smiled as he jogged and leapt into another puddle.

There was a faint squeeze of his hand as Severus said, "Potter," in a muted tone.

Harry looked up ruefully and murmured a soft, "Sorry, sir." He shot a curious look at the other children who gadded about with merry laughter as they tried to see who could make the biggest splash. Hmm...' guess I'm not 'llowed to do that, he said to himself sorrowfully. Early in his childhood, he hadn't been allowed to do many of the things others were. All the boys at the orphanage had little freedom, but that didn't stop little Harry Potter from wishing.

He had always wished to join the city boys in their snow fights during the winter. Making real snowmen as well had been a big dream of his back then. It was only a few years later that reality had settled onto the boy like a heavy burden upon his shoulders.

The burden, however, didn't stop the dreams. He sometimes wished a long lost relative would find him and take him away. Flying motorcycles materialized in his dreams - when the scary nightmares didn't over take them. The child would see castles with 'magic' animals that weren't scary at all, but friendly. He liked those - he liked them very much. There were lion like cats and friendly dragons and funny three headed dogs that snored a lot when the fairies and nymphs played their eerie instruments. Sometimes, he'd fall asleep, swearing he could hear their soothing voices and tranquil notes.

Another squeeze of his hand brought the child back into reality and when he looked up at the strange expression upon the professor's face, he realized that he had stopped and stared into space. Harry let loose a small smile and went on to look around.

The duo soon reached a clearing and Severus mounted the broom before letting the boy get on as well. "Remember, never let go of the broom, Potter. We wouldn't want an unfortunate accident to occur even before we reach my manor," said the potions master with his best 'teacher voice'. Harry nodded and held on to the 'magic' broom with anticipation.

As it slowly rose, he felt a whirl of excitement well within his stomach and heart that it was almost painful. He couldn't stop a giggle of mirth from escaping him as they ascended into the air. A small "eep!" popped from his lips as they turned steadily to the left and made for the professor's home.

Harry's smile was bright as he turned to look back at the potions master one more time and, as golden colors were painted in the sky by the rising sun, Severus smiled back.

...

They were half an hour into their flight to the manor when the broom started to curve into an upwards motion. Severus felt his heart skip a beat and pushed it firmly down, but it was to no avail. He pursed his lips together as the broom took a sharp turn to the left and his grip on the broom became so vicious that his knuckles turned white. Harry moved closer to him and the elder man felt trembles emitting from the child's frail body.

He nearly lost his grip on the defected wooden piece of garbage when it jerked unsteadily and turned upwards once more. His arm found its way across the young one's chest when the broom didn't stop when it went upwards, but did a loop altogether!

What was he going to do?! Albus would have his arse if anything happened to his precious Harry Potter!

Wait...was that a giggle? The tremors emanating from Harry increased. Ah...yes, more giggles. It dawned on him that the child's trembling came not from fear, but with delight.

Severus' arm tightened around the boy to the extent when it was almost painful. The broom stopped its looping and regained its steady course.

"Potter..." said the potions master in a dangerous voice. The boy stiffened in front of him and slowly looked around at him with wide and apprehensive eyes. "I'd kindly appreciate it if you would desist with controlling my broom," he told the boy in an icy tone. Harry grimaced and muttered incoherently what Severus believed were the words, "sorry, sir." The professor directed broom in the right direction rather too roughly, but the boy still had to control his glee.

The elder man sighed and tried to focus rather than think about the odd occurrence. Perhaps the boy was cleverer than he had first taken him to be. The seemingly mute and timid child appeared to be opening up bit by bit and Severus was beginning to dread what young Harry Potter would be like when he fully blossomed from the tiny bud he had started out as.

~*~

Don't remember...don't forget...just RUN...

The words played persistently in his mind as he moved as quickly as he could. He was still dripping wet from his swim to freedom, but that didn't matter now. It didn't matter that his feet were practically numb or that he couldn't seem to see straight. It didn't make a difference that he couldn't seem to run in a straight line. It was irrelevant that he was all skin and bones and was near collapse.

None of it mattered.

All he had to do was RUN...

More voices, more yells of anger and hatred - more footsteps crackling past the sand and into the brambles of the forest. His head was beginning to pound, and his sight was beginning to dim. The beats of his heart were rapid and panicked, but still he raced on. It was no long because of a sense of determination, but rather because of a will to survive. He must keep going! There was no other way - he just had to go on. Tears of frustration fell from his obsidian black eyes and down past his nose to mingle amidst droplets of sweat. His breaths were coming out in labored gasps and a rasping sound could be heard from within his throat. He was near complete exhaustion and more tears, these of hopelessness, welled in his eyes. It dawned on him that he would probably die running - they would catch him in the end...

But that didn't matter.

If he made it, there would be light again. His mind, body, soul...his heart would no longer be trapped within the seemingly endless abyss of darkness and terrifying shadows. He would find light. That's what matter, and that's what he raced so desperately to find...he would find light...It was imperative that he continue on, it was vital that he not give up - even if it meant death...or a fate even worse than death. He would risk it all to undo the horrific wrong he had done. If only for a word or a mere glance of something even akin to forgiveness, it would all be worthwhile - even more valuable than all the gold in Gringotts. He was a wizard who had broken a Wizard's Oath...and he would make up for it...at any cost. He stumbled and fell hard upon the ground. A stab in the side seemed to suck the strength from him, but he pushed himself up with an energy he didn't know he had and went on once more. Crimson ink seemed to seep from his side.

But that didn't matter...

All he had to do was RUN!

~*~

Harry's lingering smile vanished as soon as the looming towers of Snape Manor came into view. He stared with wide eyes as they neared the frighteningly large house. When he had heard the word 'manor', he never thought that it would look like this!

Forget the funny fountain that spouted light instead of water. Forget small ethereal creatures that flew here and there as if at random. And most of all, forget the strange hoops that stood suspended in the air and the bizarre cat-like creature that stalked proudly on the turf.

Heavens, the 'manor' was so bloody big! How would he ever get around?!

Maybe...maybe this is the wrong manor, thought the boy, desperately clinging to one last hope. But when the broom began to descend, he was unmercifully brought back down to Earth.

When their feet touched ground once more, Harry's fears were slightly dispelled when a feeling of loss filled him. He looked longingly at the broom, but it was later forgotten when Severus began to stride towards the manor. When the elder man noticed...well, when he noticed the lack of a child beside him, he turned to glance at Harry inquiringly. The child gulped, then jogged to catch up to the professor.

The massive wooden doors with brass handles slowly swung open upon their advance and Harry got his first sight of the inside of Snape Manor.

His jaw became slack and his eyes were round as tea saucers. The orphanage itself was the size of this entrance room! The duo stepped inside and Harry felt inferior to the glimmering wooden planks of the floor. When he looked up at the high ceiling, he nearly fainted at the cherubs smiling and waving down at him.

Bloody hell! Not more moving paintings! He scurried forward for the safe feeling of Severus' hand in his. The child trembled with a mixture of excitement and fear. Professor Snape looked down at his and smirked at the expression of utter awe on Harry's face.

No sooner had they stepped past the doors when a strange looking creature appeared seemingly out of no where. Harry jumped with a small cry of alarm as he dashed behind Severus. The elder man turned to shoot an amused glance at the boy before turning towards the elven butler with a small smile.

"May I take your cloak, sir," wondered the elf with a courtly bow.

Severus moved away from Harry to pull off his cloak. "Thank you, Baruch," said the man. After the material was handed over, the elf called Baruch deftly folded it in such a way that wrinkles would never appear. The elf peered curiously at the child standing bare without a protector in the middle the vast entrance. He scuffed a foot bashfully across the floor and then, as if he felt their gazes upon him, he chanced a wary look upwards.

At seeing the greenish hue of Baruch's skin, and the eerie violet eyes smiling discreetly down at him, Harry stepped back a bit. "What's wrong with your eyes?" he wondered, his curiosity overtaking his fear. The boy could have sworn he heard a snort and his eyes shot towards the professor's. However, Severus' expression was indecipherable.

When Harry turned to look back at Baruch, he was appalled to find that he was looking into vivid chocolate brown eyes that gazed down on him with amusement. "There isn't anything wrong with my eyes, young master. They are merely more advanced and enhanced than yours," was the elf's reply.

Harry blinked at him owlishly before biting down on his lip. "Can you make mine do that too?" he wondered, thinking of all the possibilities.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's a quality specific only to elves," said Baruch, the corners of his lips twitching with humor. The child's shoulders slumped as his hopes were dashed to the ground. He could almost see Aden's shocked expression if he turned up with changing eye colors. He then shrugged before saying softly, "Oh."

Now, Baruch really did smile. "'Oh' indeed, young master," said the elf. He turned to Severus saying, "Breakfast, sir?" At the man's nod, Baruch bowed and led the way to the dining room.

Severus followed and Harry rushed to catch up without even the slightest glance backwards in regret.

~*~

No more, not one more drop, thought the man with a laze grin to himself. He was nearing sheer intoxication and he couldn't have that...but still, his hand reached out for the next huge mug of ale. Hell, he didn't even like ale, but each gulp sent the ugly emotions scurrying away. He didn't want to face reality now - he didn't want to face the sneers and hateful words of the world. When he was like this, he was invincible, untouchable...unmarred by the darkness that ate at him every day.

But even satiated with alcohol, there was that painful stab in his heart that kept him one step past the line of the light. No more, not one more drop, he repeated to himself as he clenched and unclenched the paper in his hand. But the bitter yet satisfying taste of the harmful liquid made its way down his throat, soothing yet wounding him all at once. He began ripping the newspaper into bits just as a memory came unbidden to his mind...

...

"Oh, don't be silly," he said, trying to suppress a grin. Peter tried his best to smirk, but his mirthful expression could not be daunted. "You're an awful liar!"

"Posh, Remus, you believed me for just a second - admit it!" exclaimed the man called Peter with a playful punch upon his friend's shoulder. "I had you fooled!"

"Wormtail, you couldn't fool anyone if you tried!" laughed another young man nearby. He was busy fiddling with what looked like a firecracker and he was aiming it at another boy in their class. Their simmering cauldron nearby was forgotten. "For heaven's sake man, look at yourself!"

Peter shook off the snide remark with a chuckle and pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes. He didn't seem to notice that it was the color of the azure blue sky outside. "I do everyday, Padfoot," he told the other man. "And it's a wonder how any of you can look at me at all - I'm so painfully handsome..." Sirius looked up with a humored expression as merry laughter escaped his lips at the sight of the latter's odd colored hair. Peter pouted, looking horribly dejected as he chopped up the liver.

Remus quickly tucked his wand into his robes and moved to check on their cauldron. "James! I thought you said you added the crushed cockroaches in already!" he said with a look at the boy beside Sirius.

James turned to him with a raised brow, his eyes dancing behind his glasses. "I would have, but someone didn't crush the bloody bugs yet..." His gaze drifted off to Sirius who seemed consumed with fooling around with the Filibuster Firework. James' eyes met Remus' and they both shook their heads.

"Done!" proclaimed Peter with a grin and he tossed the liver into the cauldron.

"NO!" yelled James and Remus simultaneously. The cauldron made a rumbling sound before it exploded in a mass of atrocious murky brown and orange liquid. A second explosion resounded around the room as yet another cauldron blew up.

A very angry Professor Hugh marched forward. "Boys..." he said in a dangerous tone of voice. Three Marauders looked up guiltily while another laughed a bit manically.

"Wow! I didn't know the fireworks could do that!" he cried with merriment. His obsidian black eyes were directed towards a boy covered in boils across the room. He turned to his friends with his signature Marauder grin. "Two explosions! Hurray!"

And Remus had wanted to be angry with him - he really did, but that bright and merry smile made a grin appear upon his own face...

...

Confound it all, thought the man and took several more gulps of ale. It burned his throat but he didn't care. His eyes were watering, but he couldn't tell whether it was from the strong alcohol, or from his god-forsaken memories. Please...please let me forget, he begged whatever higher being there was way up there. He absently brushed away the scorching drops of liquid falling from his hazel colored eyes.

All he wanted was one day to forget - just one. Since that terrible day in his childhood, he had endured a burden that no one should carry. Friends had never been taken for granted only for the sole reason of his defection. No one wanted to be friends with a werewolf, and when one of those special individuals who despised the old prejudice came along, Remus Lupin was not one to send them away. His life had always been a lonely one - until those three certain people had come along. From then on, things would never be the same again. But Remus had never wanted it to, he loved the life that was given to him by the Marauders...they even made him one. They included him in everything and they all loved one another - to death.

It was the darkness that had killed them all. Even Remus, who was still the only one alive - and sane - still counted himself as tainted by that evil that had taken each Marauder. One had been slain along with his wife, another by a fellow Marauder. It was in a span of three days that Remus Lupin's life fell to crisp ashes upon the grounds. Now, what was left of it was blowing in the wind...but not forgotten.

Snatches of the better days came now and then, and he would always try to push it back...until now. Yesterday the Daily Prophet had come by owl post and the headline had made his heart stop. James and Lily's son was alive! And how he had rejoiced! Shocked though he was, he no longer had to be alone! Never again! He had gone to visit the headmaster - wishing for a meeting with the boy. A glance, a word...anything would have sufficed if only he could just see Harry Potter!

But there was a small obstacle.

The Ministry knew about the boy. They had spoken with the headmaster about a guardian for the summer...and Harry Potter was on his way - away. Remus had just missed him.

But what was the problem with that? He could just go and visit!

Yet that wouldn't do...the Ministry would not allow it. His past was a hindrance - more now than ever. His flaming curse made him untrustworthy already, but his past friendship with the betrayer of the Potter's put all chances of a visit to rest. Albus had argued in his favor, but the Ministry would hear no more on account of the previous dispute about young Harry Potter's guardian.

"So I can't even see him, but he can live with a Death Eater?!" Remus had yelled in a fury.

That only made the Ministry take him into custody and question him once more on Black - Sirius Black, Marauder - no, former Marauder. Why now of all times was a question that had not even dawned upon Remus...until the next day at owl post.

Currently, the paper was in shreds, but the headline was etched in his mind so clearly that he could still see it. "Black Is Back...And More Dangerous Than Ever" and the picture of Remus' ex-friend was clear in his memory as well. Long tangled and disarrayed hair hung over lost and deadened eyes while the oily appearance of his hair put Severus Snape's to shame. Black's clothes were a disheveled mess and hung loosely on bony, slumped shoulders. This was a vast contrast to what Remus' Marauder friend looked like only years before.

Remus buried his face into his arms and seemed not to notice when the nearest glass of ale shattered upon the floor when it fell from the table. The blasted newspaper lay in forgotten shreds nearby as he sniffed and let the tears run their course.

At long last, he looked up and didn't care how pathetic he might have looked. He brushed away his tears and slowly stood. After waiting for the room to move back to its normal position, he stood up all the way and dropped the last of his sickles and knuts upon the table. He wiped away yet more tears before moving for the exit.

If he had been just a tad bit more sober, he would have noticed the solemn gaze of shadowy black eyes, watching him with something akin to remorse.