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Breaking Forwards	By : lastcrazyhorn Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > General Views: 13749 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Not mine. J.K. Rowling's fandom. She's makes money off these stories and I do not. Nor will I ever. Harry Potter is all hers. sniffles But the weird twisted shit? Muahahhaa.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter 17 – Colin Who?
Hermione woke up with a start from a dream that she couldn't quite remember. It was beginning to become a familiar feeling, one that she wasn't at all comfortable with, but also one that she wasn't quite ready to give up on yet.
The idea that her brain knew what happened to her and yet still would not give her access to that knowledge was galling, yet also oddly relieving at the same time. She had always trusted in her brain, even when she was shunned because of it, and she hoped that her faith in her intelligence would reward her once more.
A sound outside her room made her jerk and draw her legs up under her body, her fingers tightening around her wand in reaction. It was the middle of the night—what in Merlin's name could be happening now?
Was that Madam Pomfrey's voice?
Hermione took a deep breath and got out of bed. She was a Gryffindor, was she not? Besides, as long as she was in the infirmary, she was safe, right?
Right, she thought resolutely.
She made her way to the door and opened it slowly, peering cautiously into the corridor outside. The sounds coming from the main room were more distinct now. Something popped and she turned her head towards the noise. She wasn't sure, but those pops certainly had sounded like the pops of displaced air that accompanied the apparition of house elves.
Soft light was spilling out into the hallway and she moved slowly towards it, not wanting to give herself away. Oh, what she would give for an invisibility cloak like Harry's!
"Severus, I'm sorry to be waking you, but I need your help," Hermione heard Poppy's voice and she risked a quick glance around the edge of the doorway. Standing on the other end of the infirmary was the aforementioned healer, her back to the room as she spoke into the green flames of the floo.
"Is it a student?" The potions master's voice came from the fireplace. Hermione was surprised that the normally sarcastic man currently sounded anything but.
He didn't even complain about the time!
"Yes," was Poppy's terse reply. "And given the sensitivity of the situation, I feel that it may be best not to mention his or her name through the floo."
Sensitivity of the situation? I know she's not talking about me. There's nothing new about me that would require his presence tonight.
What other students were in trouble? I hope nothing has happened to Harry! She really needed to talk to him, if only to make sure that he was okay.
Had she really done all she could over the past summer for her once best friend? A feeling of guilt filled her as she slunk silently back to her room. As much as she wanted to know what was going on, she wasn't entirely sure that she could keep from getting found out, especially if Snape was going to be in the room too.
Once back in the safety of her private room, she got in bed and pulled the covers up tight around her shoulders. Ever since the truth had come out about her memory losses, she had been unsure about whom she could trust, causing her to really look hard at many of her relationships with other people. It had finally occurred to her that maybe Harry hadn't been the one to change so drastically that past summer; that maybe the change had been entirely from her end.
In addition, she had found herself wondering whether or not her relationship with Ron had been as good as she had thought it was at the time. She would have asked Ron about it, but as of yet, he had not even bothered to try and visit her. Madam Pomfrey knew better than to keep him from her, especially given the number of times that she had asked about whether the fiery spirited matron had seen him.
In fact, not very many people had bothered to visit her in the infirmary. This was partially because Pomfrey had been actively screening all of her visitors, but she suspected that there were other reasons behind her relative solitude as well. Could it be that people were angry with her for putting blame on someone within the Gryffindor house?
Could Ron be angry with her? Maybe she should have talked over her concerns with him first.
She put her head down on her knees and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs. A voice inside her mind was insistently trying to point out that she had tried to talk to him before, but nothing had ever come from it.
Hadn't she tried telling him "no" before when he had originally begun pestering her about sex? Her mind was so hazy! She couldn't be sure, not really, not definitely.
But that one distant part of her consciousness still continued to bother her. She hadn't been entirely happy in her relationship with him. Truthfully, he had scared her at times, and she really hadn't enjoyed being hurt as much as she had every time they had gotten together.
Did that mean that he could have been the one to really hurt her?
She shook her head and rubbed her palms against her burning eyes. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't. She might as well believe that the sky was yellow and that Snape was going to adopt Harry someday.
And that would just be pure unadulterated insanity.
Really.
. . .
The day after Dennis Creevey had appeared in his quarters had been frustratingly unproductive for Severus Snape. He had enlisted Harry's help in trying to talk to Dennis, but their efforts had largely been futile. Simply put, the boy was still too distraught to talk to him, even with Harry's comforting presence directly beside him. It was clear that the lad was still worried—if not altogether terrified about the state of his brother. Severus couldn't help but hope that the fourth year Gryffindor was found soon.
After giving strict instructions to Harry and Dennis not to leave his quarters, he had then made his way up to Dumbledore's office to inform him of the surprise appearance of the younger Creevey boy. He was thankful that it was the beginning of the weekend, and that there weren't too many in the hallways as he walked. It had given him some private time to think over the increasingly complex relationship that was developing between him and Harry.
Initially, it had surprised him to discover just how well they had got on with each other, considering their rather troubled and turbulent past. Harry was more than just his father's son. He wished that the events over the past summer hadn't had to happen for him to see the truth about the boy. It would have been so much easier for the child if he had just opened his damn eyes, but as he had said to Harry, hindsight was 20/20.
The child clearly needed a protector in his life, and Severus couldn't but help wonder if he could help him by being the one to fill that role. No one else in the boy's life seemed to be up to taking on the responsibility. He supposed that at one point, the Weasley's might have been an option, but with the present level of animosity between the youngest boy and Harry, that no longer was a viable idea.
These were his thoughts as he rode the stairwell up into Dumbledore's office. Once at the top, he schooled his features and waited for the man to invite him in. There was little point in knocking, and he was loath to do anything just to fulfill the expectations that came with obeying the niceties of the social rules.
"Come in my dear boy!" He heard shortly after, just as he had expected. He didn't give into his urge to roll his eyes, but quickly made his way into the infuriating man's office.
"Have a seat," Dumbledore said with a wave towards the available chairs. His instruction was not a suggestion, and Severus did not treat it as such. He picked a chair and then sank into it carefully. As a student, he had gotten used to scanning every chair and every meal for possible pranks, and although he knew better than to do that around Dumbledore, the urge was still there.
"To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" The man asked him, smiling as though finding Severus on his doorstep on a Saturday morning really was pleasant. Oh to be a fly on his wall one day, and see what actually happened behind this man's closed doors.
"Dennis Creevey appeared in my quarters last night," he answered smoothly, waving a hand of annoyance at Albus as the man tried to offer him one of those damnable lemon drops. Someday he would take one just to shock the old man, but he still wouldn't eat it. He'd ferret it out of the office and take it into his lab to analyze.
"Excellent!" Albus replied enthusiastically, clapping his hands together in an open display of relief. "Where did he come from?"
"I haven't been able to determine that as of yet. The boy has been most distraught since finding his way to us."
At his words, something shifted in the Headmaster's still twinkling eyes, and he tried to brace himself for whatever inanity was likely to come out of the man's mouth next.
"How exactly did he manage to make his way to your quarters of all places?"
It was a bit odd, Severus knew, especially since very few knew of the location of his quarters, and of those, the only students that did were Slytherins. He had spoken to Harry that morning about it and had gotten his account, and he relayed the information to Albus in turn.
"Just appeared? Interesting, very interesting," Albus replied with a mutter as he stood up from his desk and went over to stand beside his window.
"What do you know about this situation that I do not, Albus?" Severus asked when the man didn't elaborate.
"I believe that I will have to do a bit of research on that before I can give you a complete answer, my dear boy. I suspect however, that the castle herself may have taken a hand in this—figuratively speaking of course, Severus," Albus concluded, turning back to him with a thoughtful look on his wizened face.
"Hmph," Severus grunted in some dissatisfaction. "There is one other thing that I would like to speak with you about, headmaster," he added after another moment of silence had passed between them.
"Yes?" Albus asked, sitting back down at his desk and lacing his fingers together in what looked far too much like anticipation.
The man is a sadist, was Severus's unbidden thought.
"What of Harry's guardianship?"
"What of it?" His employer asked with an unchanging look of would be benign interest.
"Where will he stay this summer? Who is his legal guardian now that the Dursleys have been deemed unfit?"
"Such interest in the boy, Severus! One might even mistakenly think that you were beginning to care for the child."
Severus scowled at the scorn he felt he could hear in the man's voice.
"He is a snake, Albus. He's one of my responsibilities, and as such, he should be put somewhere that he will be safe."
"He will be sixteen at the end of the summer, Severus. I had thought that perhaps he could stay at Grimmauld house until that point," was the old man's casual answer.
"You cannot be serious, Albus," Severus exclaimed, getting to his feet to better glare at the man still sitting calmly across the desk from him.
"And why should I not be serious?"
"Did it not occur to you that Grimmauld house is where Sirius raped him?" Severus was furious enough to allow himself to be blunt about the entire situation.
The light dimmed in Albus's eyes as he contemplated his words, and Severus waited tentatively for the man to answer him.
"I had not thought of it like that, my dear boy," Albus answered slowly, his voice sounding much older than it had previously.
"He does not deserve to be treated like that. He does not deserve for you to shove it in his face either. Albus," he paused, looking at the old man in front of him with a brief flash of pity. "You would do well not to mention those plans to Harry," he finished in a softer voice.
"I take that you would not have brought Harry up unless you already had tentative plans of your own, correct?"
When do I not have plans, old man?
"Harry and I have spent a great deal of time together thus far this term," Severus began slowly.
Damn, this is far harder to put into words than I would have thought.
"You have indeed," Dumbledore replied with a small smile.
"As a result, we have developed something of a rapport," Severus continued as though he had not been interrupted.
"Indeed?" Albus prompted, leaning back in his chair.
"I believe that I am the best option he has for continued healing and growth."
It was a simple sentence that conveyed so much beyond the words he was speaking.
Severus scowled again as Albus's eyes began twinkling again full force.
"Don't twinkle at me, old man," Severus huffed in discomfort; sitting back down in his chair and crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "The boy needs a responsible adult. I am a responsible adult. It is only simple logic. Surely even you can see that."
"Surely I can," Albus said, seeming inordinately pleased with Severus's admittance.
"If you will excuse me, there are two boys under the age of sixteen alone in my quarters," he said, standing up and heading towards the door. His hand was on the latch when Albus finally asked him the question that he had been waiting for since beginning the damnable conversation.
"Severus," he heard Albus say and he turned slightly towards the man, his hand still on the door. "Does this mean what I think it means?"
"Likely enough it does," Severus answered a bit gruffly, not quite wanting to admit the words aloud.
"Are you sure?"
This time he swung all the way around and through gritted teeth, he answered. "Yes Albus. I'm sure that I want to adopt the bloody boy-who-lived. Is that all? Or would you also like a chance to discuss your blasted feelings?" He spat out the word like an epithet. The entire thing made him uncomfortable and he wanted nothing more than to be allowed to go back down to his nice comfortable dungeons, where a certain green eyed boy was eagerly awaiting his return.
Albus only smiled at him, as though he found his anger and discomfort utterly endearing.
"I will begin the paperwork, Severus," he heard as he descended the stairwell back down to the land of the sane.
"You'd better," he muttered dark to himself.
It was later that evening, after the boy—whom his brain had tentatively begun referring to as his boy, despite his efforts to curb its enthusiasm for the idea—and the younger Creevey lad had gone to bed, that found Severus wide awake and pacing in his sitting room. He had tried sleeping, but his mind had been far too awake, and even a touch fearful, if he were being entirely honest with himself.
What if the boy didn't want to be adopted by the greasy git of the dungeons?
He didn't want the lad to agree to the idea simply because there was no better option either. He wanted this to be the right thing for his student to have in his life, and damn it, he wanted to allow the child a chance at happiness, even if it were for a short time.
It was after three in the morning when his floo flared, rousing him out of the depressive funk he had found himself slowly slipping into. He had conversed with Poppy and then shut down the floo in order to grab his robes and shoes; stopping only to pen a short note for Harry that he stuck atop the dining table, before finally going through fireplace himself to find a nervous Poppy waiting on the other side for him.
"Is it Mr. Creevey?" Were the first words that burst out of his mouth upon spotting the woman.
A short serious nod was her answer, and then she led him to where the boy was resting in the back corner of the infirmary.
At first glance, the boy seemed nothing like his former self. He was pale and far skinnier than Severus had remembered him being; the skin under his eyes almost dark enough to be bruised. He could see the remains of a healing gash along his crown, but there were no other obvious signs of injury.
However, Poppy would not have flooed him in the middle of the night unless something dire had occurred.
"What did you find?" He asked, steeling himself for the answer.
"Severe concussion, two cracked ribs, various bruises along his torso and lower back," she paused for breath and Severus looked at her calculatingly. Lower back? He supposed that might occur with a fall, but not in a typical attack, unless the attacker had got him on the ground and started kicking him.
He knew all too well just how much that hurt too.
"More seriously though, Severus, his rectum shows signs of having been torn and only partially healed by his magic, and according to the two house elves that brought him to me, he also seems to be suffering from some form of amnesia," she said, raising a hand to forestall any other comments from him. "And before you ask, he was found at the bottom of the stairwell on the fifth floor; the one that is farthest out on the east side of the castle."
"The most isolated one," Severus amended for her, his eyes dark and serious as he contemplated exactly what she had said. "How likely is it that the bruising on his lower back is related to his being raped?"
He knew that he was right when she didn't rebuke him for his assumption that the child had been attacked in such a heinous fashion.
"Considering the fact that the bruising and the rectum injuries occurred on the same day, I'd say that it's very likely," her voice was steely, a sure sign of her anger towards whatever monster had done this to two of their students.
"And his amnesia?"
"He was not obliviated, Severus," she answered, following his train of thought easily.
"Can you do anything to help him regain his memory?"
"You know better than I do just how tricky memory work can be, especially following an injury as tragic as the ones both he and Miss Granger experienced," she answered slowly, her eyes on the boy in front of them.
"And?"
"I'm afraid that this type of healing is far over my ability level. I'm going to have to call in help."
"I don't need to impress upon you the importance of only bringing in someone you can trust," Severus looked searchingly over her face.
"I know," she turned to him with a small pained smile on her face. "I've got someone in mind that I've known for a very long time."
"Good," he replied with some relief. "How is Miss Granger getting along?" He was curious about this other healer, but he could also see that Poppy had said all she was going to say at the moment.
"Would you like you join me for a cup of tea in my office?" Poppy asked in response, glancing at him and then shifting her eyes to the doorway that led to the private rooms.
"Please," he answered agreeably. Sure, it was nearly four in the morning, but since it was the weekend, he had a chance to catch up on missed sleep the next day. Besides, he was used to not sleeping.
They moved to the other side of the infirmary and Poppy closed the door behind them and cast a silencing spell.
"I believe Miss Granger was spying on me earlier," she informed him with an amused tilt of her mouth.
"When?" Severus asked, taking a seat opposite his old friend.
"When I flooed you, I heard a creak of a door," Poppy explained with that same small smile. She busied herself with the preparations of the tea while he waited patiently for her to answer his previous question.
"Decaf, Severus," she answered after he had taken a sip from the cup she had handed him. He made a face, but otherwise didn't complain. She was right. If he wanted to get any sleep that night, then it would not do to be drinking caffeinated beverages before trying to do so.
"What is it about her spying that amuses you so much?"
"Other than it reminds me of a little black haired Slytherin boy I once knew?" She asked with an innocent face.
"I did not spy then," he corrected her. "I merely lurked. There is a difference," he added with a small upturn of his lips.
"Of course there is," she replied with an even bigger smile. "Actually, regarding Miss Granger, I was rather pleased that something caught her attention enough to draw her out of her room. She has been very withdrawn ever since arriving here, and while I understand the reasons, it still doesn't mean that I want her to give into them and completely shut down."
"Has Minerva been keeping in contact with her?" Severus asked very carefully. If Hermione had been one of his own snakes, he would have been there every day, if possible.
"I know you don't think the most of Minerva right now, Severus," Poppy leveled him with a knowing glare, "but I think you should give her a second chance. She has been doing more than just keeping in contact; she has been visiting and even tutoring the girl when her schedule has allowed for it."
"And is Miss Granger responding positively?" He asked, raising an interested eyebrow.
"She hasn't turned her away yet," was Poppy's ambiguous response.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Her counselor visits twice a week, and offhand I can only think of a handful of times that Miss Granger has not forced her to leave early—usually in tears and shrieking all to high heaven as well."
"Miss Granger?" Severus looked incredulous.
"Her counselor is versed in the art of legilimency, and from what I have gathered from the screaming bouts from Miss Granger, the woman has not yet been able to determine the identity of Hermione's attacker, because the girl is subconsciously shielding his face."
He wasn't expecting to hear that.
"Unusual," he remarked.
"The girl's been through a lot, Severus," Poppy chastised lightly.
"She's not the only one," he growled; his mind shifting automatically to Harry and then on to the youngest Weasley.
It was strange how many things Miss Weasley and Miss Granger potentially had in common.
"Would it be possible to get Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger together sometime?"
"What are you planning?" Poppy looked at him suspiciously.
"I think they would be beneficial for one another," it was his turn to be ambiguous. "Really Poppy, I cannot tell you what I do not know," was his only explanation.
"Hm," was all the matron said, but he could tell that the she was intrigued. He had heard that Poppy had roots in Slytherin. He had often wondered if it was true.
"I suppose I could arrange something," was her grudging response after a few moments of silence.
"Thank you," he answered softly and got to his feet. It was time for bed—past time, actually.
. . .
Although he hated to leave Hermione alone for any amount of time, Ron had yet to visit her in the infirmary for fear of triggering some kind of wayward memory. He wasn't afraid of the girl—far from it actually, considering what they had been through together just that term—but he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that her remembering would undoubtedly lead to problems from other corners of wizarding society; problems that he would just as well prefer to avoid.
He had wanted to keep her isolated though, and originally had been planning on telling the other Gryffindors some kind of farce about her needing space for recuperation. However, it had turned into a bit of a moot point, as no one was quite comfortable with visiting her following such a thing.
Such a thing, he sniggered to himself at the thought. Even if Potter the Frotter wasn't ever arrested for the crime, he still had succeeded in permanently tarnishing the other boy's reputation.
Perfect Potty, loved by the whole world round, even if he is a common whore. The thought made him laugh. He felt like dancing—no, skipping—around the common room a few dozen times. He'd love to catch Harry alone sometime and really make him understand just what he was good for, just what they were both good for.
He certainly had been made aware of his own worth—or lack thereof—as a child under his Uncle Rodney's tutelage.
Bastard.
It had been a lesson too difficult to forget, even if he had tried. And he had tried a lot.
Time to pay the piper, he heard in a sing songy voice inside his head. His eyes involuntarily went to the letter he had received in the mail the day before. Uncle Rodney was coming for a visit up to Hogwarts. He couldn't just very well tell the man "no" either. Without Rodney, there was no Hogwarts. The man was his bloody sponsor. As his mum was wont towards pointing out, he owed the man for his entire future to come.
Well, what about his past? Was Rodney to have stolen his childhood from him as well as his adult life?
Without knowing it, Ron's mouth had twisted into a very pained looking smile. Regardless of how the thing with Hermione went, he would have his revenge on the man who had delighted in making his life hell.
Somehow, he swore to himself. Someday.
. . .
"Harry?" Severus asked later the next day, interrupting the chess game between his snake and the youngest Creevey boy.
"Sir?"
"What did I tell you about saying that word in my quarters?" He shot back, his lips upturned just slightly.
"Sorry Severus," Harry replied with a cheeky, if slightly contrite looking grin.
"I need to have a private word with you. Would you be so kind as to give us a few moments by ourselves Mr. Creevey?" He asked, turning his attention to the tiny boy sitting across from Harry.
The small boy nodded quickly and then scampered into Harry's room, closing the door quietly behind him. Once the other boy was gone, Severus allowed himself to briefly give into his urge to smile more broadly in amusement at the child; something which Harry echoed silently in his own face.
"Come and sit by me Harry," Severus instructed, waving his snake over to the sofa.
"Okay," the lad answered quietly, a small look of confusion passing over his face as he did so.
"Nothing bad is going on, Harry. At least not from my point of view," Severus tried to placate the boy. Merlin knew he was already nervous enough about what he was going to say. He didn't need the extra stress of frightening the child out of his wits for no reason on top of that.
He waited until Harry had sat down beside him to begin speaking.
"Harry, we get along fairly well, don't you think?" Severus tried to keep his voice calm, casual. It was a great deal harder than normal, considering the circumstances.
"Yeah," the boy nodded a bit warily.
"I've thought so as well. I must admit that I've become a bit fond of you as of lately, as surprising as that might have once been to contemplate."
He waited until Harry gave him a nod and then he continued. He could feel his palms sweating and he fought the childish urge to wipe them on his slacks.
"Now, it has occurred to me that you are currently without any sort of suitable guardian, and I think I might have come up with a solution for that."
Harry's eyes had widened ever so slightly and Severus had to fight with himself not to delve into the boy's mind in order to really find out how he was feeling.
"Harry, I recently asked the headmaster if it would be acceptable for me to adopt you. He said yes."
The boy seemed to be holding his breath.
"I want to know whether this would be agreeable to you as well."
Severus watched in silent trepidation as the child blinked several times and then looked away in thought.
"Could I th-think on it for a little bit?" Harry's voice was very soft, timid even.
"Certainly." Severus wasn't sure what to think.
"I've gotten into enough trouble from rushing headlong into things like a foolish Gryffindor. I just want to make sure that this is the best idea for me, a-and for you too Severus," the child's voice had dropped into a whisper.
"A wise and mature answer Harry," Severus replied levelly, despite the noise of his heart's wildly pounding beats within his mind.
With that, the boy excused himself to his room, leaving Severus alone with his own concerns.
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Breaking Forwards