The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 19: Snow!

"Uh... no, sir?" Snape eyed him for a moment.

"Legilimens!"

Bran stumbled back at the suddem force that entered his mind. It was like those classes at DADA  but at least, it was meant to be probing, not harming.

-----

Snape was shocked as he witnessed the layers of the boy's mind. It was solid, and the boy had strong will.

Then, there it was, dark and boding. Green light, red hair and... him. The boy was reliving the night his mother was killed! It was a night like never before, it was the same night that tore Snape into many broken pieces.

And something else. Snape decided for a split second whether to push on, but the solid walls were slowly thinning itself and Snape withdrew.

When he did, Potter's eyes were filled with tears, and Snape's chest felt constricted. He knew the feeling; he was guilty. He subjected an eleven year old boy that no grown man would ever consider the best times. He subjected the boy to something he himself despised.

Just what is wrong with you?!

McGonagall's voice echoed again in his head. This time, he did not allow himself to hate it.

He deserved this.

---

After the incident, his Professor bolted outside the door. Brandon just sat there.

There was no way he could sleep, although he felt extremely tired.

So, he stood on trembling knees and proceeded to write and read, again and again, with no words making meaning, but he was just too tired to fall asleep. Just like the other nights at Hogwarts. He shut the book in frustration and slid himself into the sheets again.

But sleep was not finding him. He sat up, leaned onto the headboard and let his thoughts wander.

His dreams were becoming more real every time he dreamt about them.

What is wrong with me?!

Sometimes, the darker times would get themselves known once again. The night when he was made known of his family's death, the hissing and the pained scar, the three-headed dog, and...

Snape walking out.

It was like the night when the man clad in black turned his back on him. He did not know who the man was, but he would be pained every time he saw the man in his dreams look at him then turn away.

It was like losing his parents again.

----

Unbeknowst to Brandon, the 'man clad in black' was there, drinking himself to oblivion.

----

The next morning, Bran awoke. There was the smell of fog and dew and everything that made mornings morning. He did not know that he fell asleep thinking in the same position. He winced as his neck cracked along with his back. He stretched then went straight to the toilet. He was thankful that the rugs were warm.

There, he noticed what was inside. A fully furnished toilet and bath. Black and white tiles arranged in a neat pattern and there was even a bathtub. A fresh towel was there along with bath essentials. It smelled neat and fresh. He proceeded to do his business.

The next thing he noticed was what was outside the window. It was a wide backyard, and his eyes widened at the varied plants. They were Potion ingredients! He then laughed at himself. He was living with a Potions master after all, was he not?