The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 21: As You Sleep

As Severus Snape looked at him, Bran slowly opened his eyes and groaned a little. He closed his hand that had held Severus' own before, as if trying to find the missing piece that had been there to ease him through the night. It was empty.

Of course it would be! You are a freak! A freak! No one wants you! No one will want you! Worthless! Worthless! Worthless!

A tear rolled down Bran's cheek.

A rustle pf clothes and Bran looked up to see Snape, looking at him intently. Flushed, he hung hos head low and quickly wiped his tears with his sleeves.

"I'll see you downstairs," came his Professor's voice and Bran heard him leave the room.

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What must the Professor think of me now?!

Snape must have thought worse of him now that he had seen Bran at his weakest. Crying because he thought he was alone! Ha! It would be a good laugh for the Professor when he tells the other Slytherins just that. But he couldn't let Snape think even worse than what he already thought of him. He was still strong, almost as strong and as brave as a Gryffindor. His parents had been Gryffindors, after all.

So Bran swung his feet to the floor and managed to drag himself to the bathroom. He showered and got himself ready to face whatever insult Snape got ready for him.

Jar was serving the Potions Master breakfast when Bran got down.

As Snape draped napkin over his lap, his black eyes stared at him, but instead of scorn, the man in front of him sported a weary look in those eyes, "Eat, child."

Snape had never called Bran 'child' before. He was always Potter this, Potter that. He never thought of Snape being capable of calling anyone as gently as he had called Bran a few moments before.

As the boy mused, Severus called to Jar to beckon Bran to the table. The small creature did as he was told and Snape saw the green eyes snap back to reality.

"Come to the table, please, 'Prentice Sir."

Bran had enough sense left, so he went his way (or rather, tiptoed) to the table. Jar pulled a table for him and he sat on it rather silently. Snape just went on eating.

Jar served Bran his usual porridge and fruit, but as the fifth spoonful was almost to his mouth, Bran's hand stopped in midair. With courage he didn't know he had, he asked the grouchy man, "How could you even let me eat here? With you? Touching all these things as if I am not... Filthy. I am but good, sir. How can you stomach this?"

Snape's own didn't falter for a moment, and Bran waited for the answer. The man chewed and swallowed and with a surprisingly unwavering voice, Snape asked, "And why would you consider yourself as that, boy?"

"Because that's what I am. A charity case."

"You speak as if you are not a human being who has rights. You are nothing but a boy, Potter. Don't even think for a moment that you are filthy. You bathe everyday, don't you?"

The green eyes narrowed, reminding Severus of Lily when she knew that he knew what she really meant, "I think you know what I mean to say, Professor."

At that statement, Snape moved to put down his spoon and fork and proceeded to remove the napkin from his lap, "If you are finished, Mister Potter, come with me to the living room."

Although hesitant, Snape saw the boy copy his moves and followed him to the living room.

Snape was already seated on a couch in front of the cackling fire. Snape told him to sit and Bran did so.