Just Stay There {Drarry}

Chapter seven

Harry wandered around the magically expanded hallways in a state just short of awe. It really was meant to be a place of sanctuary, a hospital even. 

The hallways were sterile white, with colorful doors dotting the sides at irregular lengths. The few doors Harry chose to open, either led to more doors or colorful common room like spaces. Some were almost as big as the great hall. There were gym courts, soft lounging places, and movie theaters. He had no idea what a bunch of wizards would do with a movie theater. Break it within the first screening, probably.

There were also lots of clinic rooms, storage spaces, kitchens, bathrooms, you name it. It was like they expected half the wizarding population to move in. With a small start, Harry realised that's exactly what they were expecting. A place for not only for fighters, but for civilians. For the people who either didn't want to fight or couldn't.

It took him and Snape, at least, half an hour to come back full circle to the wide staircase that led back to the regular house. 

"How long have you been working on this place?" Harry mumbled, still taking it all in. When he looked back at the giant hallway, it seemed to just keep stretching. He knew it didn't, but it kept on going till he couldn't see the end.

"Twelve years, give or take some months." Snape answered with a casual air about him, that was definitely not supposed to be there when admitting such a great feat.

Harry turned his wide eyes on him. "Twelve years?" Harry repeated. Twelve years ago, he had been three years old, three years old, and Snape had already been preparing for the worst.

"Yes, twelve years, Potter. I keep forgetting your ears don't seem to work half the time." Snape said, rolling his eyes.

Harry ignored the jab, and looked down the staircase, as looking at the hallway made his head hurt. "Did, uh, did Madam Pomfrey help you the entire time?"

"She started helping about a year, maybe two, after I became potions master. She didn't believe me completely, of course. The Dark Lord had just been defeated. How could he possibly come back?" Snape asked more to himself then to Harry. The scowl he taught with at Hogwarts was back in place. "It was ridiculous the amount of faith they had in you. Harry Potter, at the time, was the name of a damné deity." He sounded bitter.

Harry couldn't muster enough annoyance to blame him for it.

"Poppy, as much as she didn't want to believe me, sensibly knew that a mother's love and an infant couldn't stop one of the most powerful, dark wizards of all time. Over time, she grew to finally trust my motives, and the theory. Last year all but proved it was true." Snape continued, "Half the wizarding community either thinks you're deranged, a quarter looking for attention, an eighth delusional, and one final eighth believes you half-heartedly. That's not good odds, Potter."

Harry nodded, and thought it over. Did people really not believe him? He wanted to ask more questions. He wanted to pry, and figure out just exactly who he needed to convince. He gulped, and looked away from the staircase to meet Snape's eyes.

"So, when did Odin come to work here?" Harry asked instead. It wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but he was still curious about it.

"When I left Prince manor- I had inherited it from a dead aunt -Odin followed me here. He demanded I let him take care of me until I no longer needed him. I've tried to free him multiple times, as you can tell by his... wardrobe. Yet still, he hasn't come to the conclusion that I can take care of myself." Snape's deep voice took on a tinge of fondness. It was tone he took up while bickering with Pomfrey. It sounded as if he were talking about his family. It wasn't the same tone he addressed Harry with. No, that tone was more like he wanted to be trusted.