Chapter Text
“Good job, Julian!” Poppy exclaimed as she watched the young boy walk down the aisle between the infirmary beds. “Keep going!”
Julian panted slightly, but turned and made one more pass down the aisle before sitting on bed and catching his breath. This was the farthest he had walked to date. It had taken him nearly a month of exhausting work, but he was now mobile.
Sort of.
He could only make it so far before he had to stop and catch his breath and let his muscles recuperate. But every day he made it a little farther and didn’t have to rest for nearly as long. Naturally, there had been several days where things hadn’t gone to plan, but that was a fact of life everyone could understand. The frustrating thing was, however, that he had worked so hard but was still unlikely to be able to attend a full schedule of classes during the upcoming year.
The fact he was now mobile was still something to celebrate, and he now had people to celebrate with.
“How many was that?” he asked, looking up at the matron who had taken a seat on the bed across from him.
“You managed to walk the length of the infirmary twenty times. Fantastic job!” Poppy said, smiling at the boy.
Julian smiled brightly at his success. He was exhausted, winded, and slightly light headed from the effort, but he had done it! Soon, he could start exploring Hogwarts!
“Alright, laddie, let’s get you back to your room. Would you rather walk, or have me levitate you?”
“Let me rest a bit more, then I’ll walk it,” Julian said, determined to not require someone carrying him any more. Being carried made him feel like he was a baby, and, while that was nice sometimes, it was becoming more humiliating as he got stronger. He was nearly eleven after all!
“Alright, I’ll give you a few more minutes,” Madam Pomfrey said, beginning to putter around the ward. This would be the first time in many years she would have all of her pre-opening tasks done before the start of the school year. “Remember though, we are going to be working on stairs this afternoon.”
“I remember,” Julian said quietly.
Stairs made him shutter. He knew he shouldn’t be afraid of them, but the idea of walking up and down stairs made him more anxious than it ought to have. The idea of falling down them, or not having the strength to climb them was bad enough, but apparently there were moving staircases in Hogwarts. And trick stairs. And stairs that were sometimes there and sometimes not. Getting caught on one sounded like a nightmare situation.
Thankfully, it didn’t take nearly as long to recover from his walk as he had thought and was soon able to make it back into the room off of the office.
He had scarcely made it into bed when a pain shot through his face. This was the third time in the last week it had happened and it was getting progressively worse. It shot from just over his upper lip, under his sinuses, and back into his jaw. It felt as though someone had taken a red hot rod and jammed it into his face. Immediately he felt his eyes water from the pain, his mouth started to water, and his nose start to run.
“Julian?” he could hear Madam Pomfrey saying. “Julian? Are you alright?”
He moaned slightly as the pain started to abate, leaving nearly as quickly as it had come. He was almost glad he still wasn’t eating properly; he didn’t think he would have been willing to eat anything after that.
“Julian, where does it hurt?” Madam Pomfrey said, trying to get any information out of the child. His vital signs were ok, if not a little elevated from stress. She could tell he was hurting, but the question was where was the pain coming from.
Julian breathed a sigh of relief as the pain disappeared. He had been through many different tests and procedures, but never had he had anything that hurt as bad as this pain that kept shooting through his skull.
“My face keeps hurting,” he said quietly, trying not to move his face as much as possible. “It’s gone now.”
“When did this start occurring?” Madam Pomfrey said, trying not to sound overly stern.
“The other day after you had me try the sip of deer blood.”
Madam Pomfrey nodded and sent a patronus to fetch the potions master from his labs.
It had been a long time coming for the young child to try consuming real blood for the first time. They had been hopeful he would tolerate taking it orally as his stomach had finally shown signs of beginning to move. The hope had been to give him some blood and maybe it would speed along the process of getting the child’s stomach to function properly.
Poppy wouldn’t say it backfired, but the poor child certainly didn’t tolerate it well. He had enjoyed the taste despite it being a small amount, but he certainly hadn’t enjoyed the cramping and nausea that hit him several hours later when the blood congealed in his stomach rather than moving on into his intestines as it should have.
And now the poor child’s face was having pain as well? Poppy was afraid she knew what was happening, and it was definitely not something they were wanting to have happen yet.
Julian’s teeth were finally starting to come in, and with that he would start having the drive to hunt and feed.
She had dealt with the aftermath of Remus Lupin’s monthly transformations. She had put up with hormonal Veela students. She had patched up Professor Kettleburn more frequently than she cared to admit. She wasn’t trying to get a full set of magical creatures on her resume and was not looking forward to an untrained vampire being in the school.
A quick scan of his face brought confirmation to her fears. The canines which had previously been impacted within the gumline had begun to move downward with a small fluid filled pocket forming behind them. The swelling which had previous been there, no matter how minute, was beginning to flatten out as the structures causing it moved into their proper locations.
Julian saw the scan results as well and rested his head on his knees. He knew what she was looking for, and knew she saw it. His teeth were coming in. He was officially becoming what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always said he would be: a freak. He had just gotten a family too, albeit a small one. Would they want him anymore? Would they be scared of him and kick him out now?
They were shaken from their thoughts by the sound of the floo in Poppy’s office as Severus came through.
“What’s going on?” he said flatly, though concern was evident in his face.
“I do believe Julian’s teeth are coming in,” Poppy said. “He was complaining of some intermittent facial pain that started after the deer blood.”
Severus nodded and sat at the foot of the boy’s bed. Julian was resting his chin on his knees and hugging his legs to him, a position Severus had begun to despise the boy being in as he was less than forthcoming with any information.
“Julian?” Severus said quietly, noticing the slight flinch when the boy registered he was being spoken to.
“Yes, sir?” Julian said softly, running his tongue along the inside of his teeth. Nothing was loose yet.
“Are you still in pain?” Severus asked, not seeing any of the signs he had begun to associate with his child hurting. Lily’s child. Potter’s child. Not his child, he had no stake in that claim outside of a forged piece of paper.
Julian shook his head slightly. The pain, thankfully, had vanished just as quickly as it had come.
“Are your teeth loose?”
Again, a small head shake. Severus could see in the child’s eyes an underlying fear the boy was trying desperately to hide.
“Julian, what are you afraid of?”
Julian wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head, only shrugging his shoulders in response. Severus could feel his ire rising, but wisely kept it tempered. He wasn’t going to be getting anywhere by yelling at the child; he had learned that quite early on. Julian was always on the defensive unless he was feeling too ill to move.
No, consistency was key with the child, and lashing out was not going to win him any favors.
Severus heard the boy mutter something into his knees and sighed. He was debating having Poppy check his hearing at this rate. Julian would routinely be talking quietly but his volume would continue to drop until Severus could scarcely hear him. When he would mention it to Julian, he would get a shocked look of ‘you couldn’t hear me?’ back.
Gently, he coaxed Julian’s head out of his arms and made him look up. The boy’s eyes were red with unshed tears and his cheeks flushed.
“Once more, please. I couldn’t hear what you said.”
Julian swallowed before answering softly, “You’re going to send me away. I’m too dangerous.”
Severus sat back and sighed. The more they got out of the boy, the more he loathed those muggles. It didn’t seem as though Petunia was truly acting in the boy’s best interest when she sent him away, but rather to make herself look good. It wouldn’t be the first time Petunia had acted this way; Severus could remember many times when he was growing up when she would turn over projects to her sister when they were too difficult. Generally she had only put in the minimal effort to get the project started then would make a show of doing her work before ultimately turning over a destroyed project for someone else to try to finish.
Severus could only hope Julian wasn’t going to turn out like all of the other projects Petunia had done this to in the past.
“You will be dangerous, yes. But this is not an unknown danger to us. We will work to find ways of managing this and mitigating problems before they arise. You are not going to be abandoned for something you can’t control.”
Julian sniffed and turned away from the man sitting next to him. He didn’t really believe what the professor was saying; he knew no one would really want him that badly. Who would really want to keep a freak around?
“Julian, look at me,” Severus said, trying not to let the boy fall into self isolation. “Do you know what I was doing before we retrieved you from your relatives house?”
Julian continued to stare at the wall opposite the professor. Severus had told him he was a potions master and worked with experimental potions during the summer, but hadn’t been overly specific on any of the details. Shaking his head, Julian continued to look at the wall. While he was curious about what Severus had been working on, he didn’t want to look at the man. Hope was poisonous and he didn’t want to feel the pain of rejection anymore. He had tried to be accepted with the Dursleys and had his hopes destroyed every time.
“I had just finished perfecting an alteration to an existing potion that prevents werewolves from attacking people. Before this alteration, the potion took nearly a month to brew, was extraordinarily expensive, and was not widely used.”
Julian frowned. He had read in one of the books in the room that werewolves were extremely dangerous. So much so they were not allowed to be around other people within one week of their transformation. But there was a potion to make them less dangerous?
“It is entirely within the realm of possibility to find a potion which would prevent you from becoming a danger to yourself or others should you be unable to feed for a period of time. And if there exists a possibility, an answer can be found.”
Julian pursed his lips and laid his head on his knees once more. There it was again: hope. He wanted so badly to believe there was a possibility of avoiding biting anyone, but he didn’t know how strong the hunger would be when it finally set in.
“Julian, how about we focus on making sure your teeth don’t cause you too much pain as they come in?” Poppy said, breaking the tension.
Julian nodded slightly, another sharp pain spreading across his face. He didn’t understand why they hadn’t gotten rid of him yet, but he was glad they were still offering to help him manage the pain. A flick of her wand and a small vial flew into the room.
“It’s not a potion, is it?” he asked, worriedly. If it was a potion, it could take hours to get into him depending on the amount needed. And some potions were just too thick to put through his tube.
“No dear, just a bit of clove oil. Rub just a bit on your gums and it should help with some of the pain. It’s nowhere near as strong as a pain potion, but it’ll do. Be careful though, it can make your gums rather irritated if you use too much.”
Julian nodded and put a drop on his finger. It didn’t take long for the oil to make his gums feel a little warm and numb; an odd sensation to say the least. But it helped.
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office pouring over the few applications he had for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Another year had come and gone, and with it another capable professor. Poor Deirdre Smythe had gone mad shortly before the end of term and had required hospitalization. The cause of her madness was still unknown, but there was a hole in the teaching roster once again that needed filled.
This year’s application pool was different. A total of five people had applied for the job, that was three more than last year. The reason was obvious, of course. This was the year Harry Potter was to come to Hogwarts. Anyone capable of basic math would know that.
Severus Snape, of course, was right out. He had a child to take care of now, he was in no way fit to take on the famed curse placed on the DADA position. Of the other three, there was a retired giant snail breeder, a private tutor from Ireland with no discernible teaching credentials, and a request from a previous Muggle Studies professor to return to “any open position please if possible.”
‘Ah, Quirinus,’ Dumbledore thought. ‘Has it been a year already?’
Quirinus Quirrell had been an extremely bright student, particularly in the fields of Muggle Studies and Defense. He had been on staff for several years as the Muggle Studies professor, though his true passion was for the theory of the Dark Arts. Last year he had asked to take a short sabbatical to gain some first hand experience of the muggle world as well as study the many historical magical sites on the continent.
While Quirinus was a more than competent professor of Muggle Studies, he was an extremely meek man with an occasional stutter caused by stress. DADA was not a class for the meek, however for all that he lacked in confidence he made up for in knowledge.
Quickly skimming through the man’s updated CV, Dumbledore was surprised to see a mention of vampires in the Black Forest. Perhaps Quirinus had managed to learn more about the highly reclusive species? How beneficial would that be for Mr. Potter!
The decision was made then. Quirinus Quirrell would be coming back to Hogwarts.
A few short letters of rejection later (including one which read simply “No, Severus”), Albus stood from his desk and walked over to the floo. Quickly saying the password and throwing in the floo powder, he knelt at the hearth and stuck his face in the flames.
On the other side of the fire was Quirrell, sipping a small cup of Turkish coffee while sitting in the sitting room of a small concrete building. The man reached up and adjusted the large, purple turban atop his head before realizing Dumbledore’s head was in his fire and jumping backwards, knocking the coffee to the ground in the process.
“Good morning, Quirinus. I hope I find you well?” Dumbledore said, smiling. The man’s jumpiness had obviously not abated during his time off.
“P-p-p-professor D-d-d-dumbled-d-d-d-ore!” Quirrell stuttered, eyes jumping around the room. “H-h-h-h-how are you?”
“Quite well, actually. I have a question for you, my boy.”
Quirrell’s eyes continued to dart around the room suspiciously. He was going to be found out, he knew it. Dumbledore knew everything. There was no way this plan was going to work.
‘Silence, you fool!’ a voice hissed in his mind. ‘Answer the man’s questions. He’s here to offer you a job.’
“Y-y-yes, sir?” Quirrell said.
“You stated on your application for re-instatement that you would be willing to take any position, is that correct?”
“Y-y-y-y-y-yes sir,” Quirrell stuttered, struggling to control the twitch in his left eye.
“We do have an open position for the upcoming school year, mind you it is quite a bit more dangerous than Muggle Studies. However, it is the only open position at this time. Would you be willing to return to Hogwarts as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?”
Quirrell could have cried with happiness. His master ought to be thrilled with this; a much more fitting position for the Dark Lord. And for him.
“Y-yes! Th-th-thank you s-s-s-sir!” Quirrell said, jumping out of his seat as the wind blew a window shutter open.
Dumbledore smiled. This year would certainly be an interesting one.