Chapter Text
In the silence of the dungeons, a lone man with shiny black tresses, stood before a simmering couldron with an opaque-colored concoction. Reaching beside the couldron he let his mind wander to the misfortune that was his life.
He thought back to the night when he was so close to his well-deserved freedom. He thought back to that moment when he felt that inexpicable warmth, that unbelievable safety when he was so close to the freedom that was death. But, alas, even in his death Potter had to bother him. The brat thought not about the hardship he had gone through, of course he won't, he thought bitterly.
He added another ingredient to the now purple-ish coloured liquid. So lost in thought as he was, he did not notice that he had not turned the fire off just quite yet. Severus Snape's eyes widened in horror and he reached out in vain attempt to stop the moon flower petal from falling down the de-aging potion he was tasked to do for St. Mungo's. And the worst was that the potion they ordered was supposed to be irreversible.
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A raven haired, emerald eyed young man was walking down
the halls of the dungeons. He had been tasked to help Professor Snape with the constructions down here. He was just outside the Potions Master's office when he heard the unmistakable sound of explosion.
Quickly, as if hell was right behind him, he pivoted to the door of the Potion's Lab. Pulling it, he cleared the smoke that littered the place with a quick spell and looked around wildly. Adrenaline rush within him pulsing through his veins, enlivening the war that had embedded itself unto his heart.
His eyes scanned the area until his gaze fell upon the heap of black fabric down the floor. Walking slowly, he tried to slow his franctic breathing. Swallowing in his attempt to soothe a little of his nerves, he walked on not quite knowing what to expect and not quite ready for what was to reveal itself to him.
He tried to steal his resolve and prepared himself for the worse that was to come. Now, Harry Potter was a tough person, war does that to people, but you could bet sure as you could breathe that the ravenette was not tough enough to keep himself from gasping and gaping when he heard a wail that can only come from a child.