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Promises of Forever	By : Ravenheart Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/James Views: 18939 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from this story and no copyright infringement is intended

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
A/N: This chapter was HARD
to write, you'll see why in a minute or two, still it was hard... and
we're introduced to two new characters. They're not important as...
say... James, Sev, Harry and Dumbledore, but they ARE important for
the plot... I hope you like them as much as I liked creating them. =)

Tittle: Promises
of forever

Chapter: 24
– Routines

Pairing: James
Potter & Severus Snape

Summary: James
survived that fated Halloween night, now with an infant by his side
he has to face adulthood and a world that demands his son. Thank
goodness he has Severus Snape on his side.

Warning:
Character Death, OOCness, cuteness, AU, Harry's three months old
instead of 15 months. Manipulative!Dumbledore, Evil!Tom Riddle

Disclaimer: This
is a work of fiction, written to win the NaNoWriMo challenge. No
money is being made from this and no copyright infringement is
intended.

Previously:
“Never thought the boy would try and wash me...” The
man giggled, going up the stairs and stopping outside a door with a
little sign with 'Percy' written on it. Suddenly, no man was standing
at the corridor, but a rat was making its way towards the bed where
his owner was sleeping.

Routines...
or the lack there of.

At the Potter house,
life continued on as normal, the routine returning to the lives of
Severus, James, and even Harry started to settle on a normal
schedule.

Which James was forever
thankful for, since his son hadn't woken up in the middle of the
night ever since the end of the thrice curse hearing.

From Sunday night
through Thursday night, he spend his evenings alone... well... he
spent his nights on his own bed without Severus, though Harry
sometimes made an appearance on Severus' side of the bed.

By 7:30am he woke up...
sometimes the foul smell assaulted his nostrils bright and early...
other times he woke up to Harry throwing a mild temper tantrum
because he was tired of laying down on the crib, and sometimes –
thought they were now rare, for which James was thankful for –
he woke up to Harry screaming his lungs out in the middle of a
memory/nightmare of that night all the way back in October. Those
were the days he usually needed special care, and needed to be close
or being held most of the time.

If he was lucky, by
8:30 both him and Harry would be showered, dressed and on their way
to Harry's day care.

They were – as a
rule – generally late, what with feeding and burping Harry and
trying to grab a cup of coffee before leaving. So that left him
leaving the heavily warded house by 8:42, sometimes even later than
that.

He apparated to a
nearby alley and walked to the day care, leaving Harry in the capable
hands of Mrs. Aldridge before kissing his boy, waving good-bye to the
woman whom he suspected had a crush on him and apparating as soon as
he was out of sight.

Regardless of the time
he left home, by 9:00am he was at Gringotts' muggle branch, either
dealing with goblins or with a particularly demanding client. And
there he stayed until 6:30pm when he left the bank in a hurry,
already tugging at his tie as he apparated home, immediately
searching for Severus and Harry.

Severus' routine was
just a bit different than James'. To start with, he woke up at 6:30am
and by 7am he was at the Adrianne Potion Institute already preparing
the ingredients his Potions Guide would need.

At 7:15am Potion
Mistress Judith – a 100-something year old woman –
entered her lab and begun to give Severus instructions mixed with
lessons and, sometimes, even lectures on behaviour, she rarely
followed England's news and for that Severus was thankful, as it
meant the woman wouldn't treat him any differently.

The routine of chop,
dice, stir, listen, report went on until 2pm, when Severus was
allowed to go home. He spent about half an hour at Spinner's End
before changing to muggle clothes and apparating to Harry's day care.

He knew, for a fact,
that Mrs. Aldridge hated him. She would try and tame her glare
whenever she saw him, but he knew a façade when he saw one. He
would sneer right back at her as he picked up Harry, checking to see
that his son was fed, changed and bathed and had no injuries or
traumas on his tiny person.

Once he was assured
that Harry was just fine, he apparated the both of them to James'
house where he spend time studying for the next day and entertaining
Harry.

Admittedly the baby
demanded much more attention than previously, what with teething,
rashes and crawling, too often Severus would find the boy crawling
over to the sofa and trying to wiggle himself under it or patting the
perimeter ward he had put in the living room.

At 6:45 at the latest
James was home, greeting Severus with a mind-numbing, toe-curling
kiss before picking up his son and allowing himself to relax and
enjoy what little was left of the baby's day.

By 8pm all of them were
fed, one of them was sleeping, and the other two would be either
talking or in the middle of going to bed, clothes being hastily
removed and dumped on the floor, the chair or being thrown out of the
bed as the pleasure built up until talking was replaced with moans
and shouts of pleasure.

On the nights that it
happened, James and Severus were – usually – in a much,
much better mood the next day.

And so time passed for
them.

One week turning into
two, then into four, then a month. They were happy, content,
growing... and filled with the knowledge that, had James been a
female, he would have a second baby on the way by now.

On the other side of
the spectrum, not everyone was happy... Detective Tom Hester was for
the first time at end of his patience.

It was the beginning of
March now, and exactly one week after the disappearance of George
Terrance, an 8 month old baby.

He had searched for him
since the previous Monday, interviewed his day care, the nanny, the
parents, the grandparents, the neighbours and even the father's
co-workers. There had been nothing, no leads, not even a hint of his
existence.

Three days later he had
searched the orphanages, the hospitals, the charities, the churches,
the near by woods... everything he could think of.

They had found nothing.

Now it was one week
after the disappearance and he had been called in the middle of the
night, apparently some people had finally found the child, and he –
as the head investigator – had been called to shed some light
in what they had found.

It had been around 3am
when he had received the call, it was just his luck that he place was
near his home and, 15 minutes later he was at the house where the
disturbance had been reported, he could hear the front door neighbour
as she talked about the call to the police, it was pretty clear she
did not like her new neighbours.

“...and two of
them were talking, laughing, and suddenly the party was taken over by
the woman's screams...”

He shook his head at
the description, he doubted there had been a party, it was too late
for that. Tom Hester frowned as he looked at the approaching figure,
his partner William Maester.

William was a tall
individual, as white as chalk and with a shiny bald head, deep blue
eyes and a blond, trimmed, beard. As usual he was in jeans and a
shirt, black tennis and the usual bracelet he swore gave him luck.

“The verdict?”

“Dead infant, I
think it's the one you were looking for Tom, but you've gotta see
this...” he trailed off, shaking his head and turning on his
heel, stalking towards the house again.

In the back he could
hear the woman going on and one about the party, specially her lack
of invitation. To the side, talking to another officer was the couple
who had found the body. The mas your average John Doe, as normal as
they come, the woman was a short tiny thing with long black hair. A
normal couple.

“You sure he's
dead then?”

“If he wasn't,”
Bill begun staring at the floor, “I'd feel sorry for the poor
bugger.”

Tom knew Bill, they had
been partners for over five years, he knew Bill had only an
infinitesimally particle of pity or even compassion in his body and
he didn't waste it often... to have him said that Tom had no doubt
that what he was about to see was bad, pretty damn bad.

“Lead the way...”

With measured steps he
entered the house, noticing the bright painted walls, the lack of
dust in the corners and the playpen to be assembled – the box
laying apparently forgotten, bust still dust free, on an nondescript
corner by the kitchen.

“Who's the
playpen for?”

“The woman is 6
months pregnant.”

“She is?! Don't
look like it!” Tom said, staring at the window and at the
couple outside.

“That's not the
wife Tom, the wife's outta town.” Bill said, smirking... a
shade of his usual personality shining through.

“Please tell me
that's her sister.”

“That's his
bitch, that's what she is.”

Tom stopped suddenly,
taking another long look at the woman in question.

“I'm not sure if
I should laugh or cry, that's going to be a mess.”

“Tell me about
it... to prevent it from falling down on us, we're all taking as many
pictures as we can.”

“Can never be too
careful.” Tom grinned, before his face lost its boyish looks as
he stared down at the steps to the basement.

“How long have
they lived here?”

“About... oh...
12 hours.” Bill grinned again, despite the situation.

“And the fucker
brought his mistress here first?!”

“Yep.”

Tom snorted, looking at
the bald man. “You're loving the drama, aren't you?”

“Of course I am,
lovely things, dramas.” The elder, balding man grinned for a
moment before he turned to the basement door and, taking a fortifying
breath, went down, Tom following close behind.

Tom covered his nose to
keep from inhaling the stench of the dead body, he refused to stare
at the boy, instead looking at the ground, searching for evidence. He
took care to only step on the Coroner's steps as he looked around,
making notations. Theirs was the only set of footsteps, nothing else
seemed disturbed or even out or place. They would process the
basement of course, go through everything they could possibly get
their hands one to catch the bastard who did this... but the
stillness of the place was uncanny.

“How long has the
boy been here?” Tom asked the coroner, a man called Jack
apparently, he was knew and Tom wasn't in the habit of meeting or
talking to new people.

“ 5 hours, give
or take a few minutes.” the man shrugged, unconcerned.

Tom sighed, staring at
the man Jack, he hated doctors to whom the profession had turned into
just another job.

“Anything weird
about the body?” The detective asked, it was almost 4am, he had
to work in two hours and he had only gotten 3 hours of sleep... he
was too damn tired already.

“Besides the lung
damage and the crushed foot? Well.. whoever did this carved something
on the boy's forehead.” The man held out a hand to stall the
men's questions “No, I can't say what it is, he's too damn
dirty for that.”

“How can you tell
he had lung injuries then?” Tom asked, still refusing to
acknowledge the body, pen furiously working over paper.

“There's a bit of
regurgitation on the floor, there's dirt and blood in it.” He
doctor answered, still completely unconcerned.

“Any theories
about that?”

“Either the
killer dumped something on the boy, or he threw him against a wall.”

“While he was
dead or alive?”

“Alive....”
He trailed off, staring at Tom's face, “I can't determine the
cause of death.”

“Excuse me?”

“I-can't-determine-the-cause-of-death!”
the man Jack said slowly, as if talking to a particularly dimwitted
child.

“The fuck...”
Tom shook his head, finally looking at the body.

He wished he hadn't.

“None of the
injuries killed him, and the forehead was carved post-mortem.
Also...”

“Yes?”

“I'm sure you
noticed that there's no sign of anyone else here, the only traces I
found were made by some officers and the paramedics, it's like the
body appeared by magic.” Jack murmured, shaking his head.

“Fuck it...
nothing? Don, what do you have?” Tom asked the only other man
on the scene, Heder Donova, the crime scene specialist.

“I got some
traces of metal around the body, the man had the basement re-made and
removed the floor, leaving only dirt... it might be from that but we
need to be certain, I need some tests to be completed before I can
give you any theories.”

“All right, what
about off the record?”

“Off the record?
Seems like some sort of machine had been here, probably electrical
and the metal appears to be iron and sulphur... maybe a coincidence
the body was here but...”

“You don't
believe in coincidences.” Bill muttered, having stopped at the
stairs to let Tom look around, he went back up, sat on a chair he had
dragged from the kitchen and lit a cigarette.

“None
of us do.” Tom reminded him, looking up at his partner.
- 23
- 24
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Promises of Forever