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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book One: -Harry can not survive his dark thoughts anymore. At least not alone.
Even though there were no windows in the dungeon, Snape knew exactly what time it was when he finally woke up after a night of fitful sleep.
Probably because he always woke up at the same time. Unless, of course he'd spent the whole night brewing a potion. Then his daily rhythm went to hell in a hand basket, making him really annoyed.
Not that anyone would notice the difference.
Snape lay in bed, his eyes closed, enjoying the one perfectly calm moment of the day. Soon he'd have to get up and start doing something. It might be Sunday, but his work never ended. He had Slytherins to look after, Order business to take care of. Potions to brew, both for the Order and for Poppy, who still needed potions for idiots who managed to get the cold.
At least it was over a week till the next full moon. He didn't have to worry about the Wolfsbane potion. That was something.
Lying in complete silence, Snape suddenly remembered he was not alone. The thought made him jolt up. He sat there, trying to listen for any sounds coming from his living room showing that Potter was awake. If the boy was, he was probably scared as hell by now.
Snape had agreed to let him floo into his room, but he had replaced the ward on his floo after Potter's last visit. There was no way out of his rooms without his permission.
He sighed. It would be so easy to let Potter run again, both for him and the boy. He didn't really want to talk to him or hear any embarrassed apologies.
There was really no choice for him. He'd taken this responsibility willingly -- even though not gladly -- so he'd have to make sure Potter didn't leave until he was all right. Or at least not worse. That meant talking. Minimal sarcasm.
Some days, Severus Snape simply hated his life.
Moving quietly, he went through his morning routines. He was glad there was no evidence of movement from the other room. He needed this time to prepare for what was going to happen next.
His sense of responsibility had forced him to listen to Potter. That and the memory of a foolish young Death Eater who had almost destroyed his life all those years ago. There had been someone who'd listened to him then. This was simply another way to pay back, even if deep inside he knew nothing he did could ever repay Albus' kindness.
Snape wished Potter had been sensible enough to go to the Headmaster. That way he wouldn't be in this situation. Wouldn't have to think about his own past and all the emotions that had almost drowned him. Wouldn't have to see Potter like this.
He didn't want to get involved with his student's personal problems. Not if he didn't have to. He'd do anything for his Slytherins, but Potter wasn't even one of those. He was a darn Gryffindor. He should have gone to Minerva for this, and then Minerva would be the one seeing all this. Seeing Harry Potter as a person, as a human being.
A thing Snape definitely didn't need to see.
Finishing dressing, Snape walked quietly to his living room, lighting just enough candles to see where he was going. He didn't want to wake Potter up in case he was still sleeping.
The loud snoring revealed to him that was the case. He went to check on the sleeping boy, watching him for a moment. It was a sight he'd never thought to see. It was almost sixteen years since the war, but he could still remember it well. He'd known that on the last days of this war, the Order would have to work hard, sending operatives on missions together.
He'd even been prepared to work with Potter. It would have been the most intelligent thing Albus could order. The hope of the wizarding world, and the one most prepared to counter dark magic. They would have undoubtedly seen different sides of each other then.
Not like this, though.
Shaking his head at the whole situation, Snape went to the fireplace. He needed to talk to Dumbledore.
He used a simple incendio charm to light the fire in the fireplace and then called out for the Headmaster, waiting patiently till Dumbledore's face appeared. "Albus. I need to talk to you."
"Yes. I rather thought you might." The Headmaster didn't seem surprised. It always seemed like he knew exactly what was going on in the castle. "How is Harry doing?"
Snape smiled cynically. "As well as can be expected. He's tired, Albus. Like I was when I first came back to Hogwarts." He could tell by the saddened expression that Dumbledore knew exactly what he was talking about. "I think it's best if he stays here for a while."
"Of course. Are you all right with that, Severus?" Dumbledore was too smart to let it just be.
"Yes." It was strange, but it was the truth. Snape figured it could be worse. It could be Neville Longbottom snivelling in his room. "I don't really mind."
He was quite surprised when it wasn't a lie. He didn't mind. Potter might be annoying, but he hadn't been as intolerable as he'd thought he would be. The boy even had intelligence he had never showed in Potions class or during his idiotic wandering around the school. That alone had been quite astonishing, but it had stunned Snape to realize Potter hated the way people saw him. He'd always been so sure Potter loved all the praise and attention. How curious to find himself to be so wrong about that.
"Would you inform his friends he's all right?" He didn't want to do it himself. Albus would be able to think of an excuse the Gryffindors would swallow.
Dumbledore nodded. "I'll do it right away." His eyes twinkled. "Take good care of him, Severus."
Snape just snorted at that. Of course he would.
When Dumbledore's face disappeared, he stood there for a moment. He still had no idea what to say to Potter when he woke up. Didn't know any kind words or excuses, knew only the truth. The blunt, naked truth.
He turned around, and then froze, meeting a clear green gaze. Harry Potter was awake. He didn't seem to know what to say either. That would probably be the recurring theme of this morning, for both of them.
"Morning, sir." His voice a bit rough, Harry managed to get the words out as he sat up. He felt like a dwarf in the chair. It was obviously because the chair had grown during the night, since everything else seemed to be the right size. He felt a little fuzzy, last night's memories all jumbled up inside his mind. He could remember coming here and babbling like a loon, but after that, everything was hazy.
Snape nodded. "Good morning, Potter. I suggest you go and clean up while I get us some breakfast." Anything to buy some time.
"Sounds like a good idea, sir." Harry struggled with the blanket he didn't remember ever seeing before, and got up. Realizing he was still wearing his pajama bottoms and a shirt, he added, "Could I..." No. There was no way he could ask Snape for clothes he could borrow. "I think I should go and get some clothes." That was better.
"I'll get you a robe you can wear." Snape was definitely not going to let Potter off that easily. He knew if he allowed him to leave, he'd never come down here again. That wouldn't exactly be a bad thing under other circumstances, but then again this was far from over.
Harry decided it was wiser not to say anything to that. He simply went to take a shower.
The face that greeted him in the mirror looked like it belonged to a scarecrow. A very efficient one at that, guaranteed to keep anyone away from him. His reflection stayed still, not making any comments on his appearance. Either it was charmed not to move, or it was too scared to actually say anything. After all, Harry didn't think Snape would take comments about his appearance kindly.
His eyes were still red, his face paler than usually. It was quite obvious he'd been crying. The memory hit him, making him wince. Yes. He'd been acting like a real idiot last night. He could handle the babbling, but to think that he'd cried in front of Snape... The man must think he's a git right now.
Harry shrugged at that, turning away from his reflection. Snape had always thought he was a git, so no change there. That was the whole point coming to him. After six and a half years listening to that man hand out insults there was nothing he could say to hurt him.
Feeling quite disgusted in his clothes, Harry stripped, and then stepped into the small shower stall. He turned the water as hot as his skin could bear, and let it wash away his stiffness. Even a magically enlarged chair was still a chair. He stood there for a long time, just enjoying the water, thinking nothing. Eventually he had to come back to reality, and he wiped the water from his face, reaching out for the bottles on the ledge.
It hit him that he was in professor Snape's shower as he grabbed one of the bottles. Using his soap. It was almost surreal.
He let out a laugh, relieved when it sounded like normal mirth and not hysterical. Still chuckling, he rubbed the soap on his skin, squinting his eyes after that to read the labels on the other bottles.
First some shampoo, then the conditioner. The latter bottle made him raise an eyebrow. He wished he could show it to Ron. His friend was certain Snape had never even heard of such a thing.
A brief flash of guilt went through him. After all, Snape had let him stay, had listened to his insane rambling. Hadn't chopped him into small slices and made a potion out of him. It wasn't really fair of him to be laughing at someone who'd shown him hospitality, even if he was a greasy Potions master.
There was a slight smile on his face as he rinsed the suds off.
As he stepped out of the stall, he noticed there was a folded black robe waiting for him on the lid of the toilet seat. Snape must have transported it there somehow, because he was certain he would have heard if the door had been opened while he was in the shower. There were also a pair of sweatpants there, a fact he was grateful of.
He'd been living with Muggles too long to be completely comfortable wearing just a robe. Especially now.
Harry didn't hurry getting dressed. He was sure Snape wasn't exactly holding his breath waiting for him either. Looking into the mirror, he was glad to see he looked better. Sure, his hair hung wet and limp around his face, but at least he didn't look all that pale and miserable anymore.
It was still difficult to leave the bathroom.
He glanced around as he stepped back into Snape's living room. It was as if he was seeing it for the first time. The two times he'd been in here had left him with no clear memory of the place. He was surprised by the way the room looked normal. No damp dark walls and jars of weird stuff anywhere. The professor probably kept all his ingredients either in his office or in the large cupboard next to the door.
Another illusion shattered. Snape's place looked warm, even inviting. Bookshelves covering two of the walls. Calm, earthy colors. Mostly green. No surprise there.
Snape had been busy while he'd been taking the shower, shrinking the chair back to its normal size and ordering them breakfast. Realizing he was actually hungry, Harry sat on the chair and looked at his host. He didn't want to seem overly rude by attacking the tray on the table.
"Eat." A sharp command. "You must be starving." Snape had been watching the boy, and noticed he wasn't eating well lately. He was quite certain Potter had been stuffing himself with various products from Honeydukes yesterday and had forgone a proper meal.
Not bothering to even act like he wasn't hungry, Harry grabbed a plate with sausages. There seemed to be a lot of food there, enough to feed the Weasleys. The house elves must have been ecstatic to be able to prepare the meal.
Snape sipped his tea, nibbling his sandwich while Potter wolfed down an enormous amount of food. He had to keep a straight face at that. It was strange to be on this side, remembering similar incidents of his youth. Never a glutton, he'd actually been ravenous whenever he'd spent the previous night fighting his demons in Dumbledore's rooms.
He was relying on those memories now, to make him understand what the boy was going through. Wizard psychology had never been his strong point. Psychotic episodes were a different thing completely.
Pouring himself another cup of tea, he realized Harry had stopped eating. The boy was holding his glass, but instead of drinking his pumpkin juice, he was staring into the dark liquid.
It was time to stop hiding and start talking.
"Do you remember what happened last night?" Probably the best way to begin; mostly because it was quite probable there were gaps in Potter's memory. There had been pain and sadness, but also a hint of rage in him. That combination usually didn't leave coherent memories.
Harry startled at the quiet voice, almost spilling his juice. He looked up at Snape and nodded. "Yeah, I do." When it seemed like he was expected to embellish, he added, "I flooed in and then... Talked. About stuff. About me being scared."
"Yes. You remember what happened after that?" Seeing the uncomfortable look and the nod on Potter, Snape hastened to say, "Good. Then we don't have to recount the whole thing."
That had been the most painful thing with Dumbledore. To go over what he'd said, word for word, because he simply couldn't remember any of it. That kind of helplessness could break a man. It had almost broken him.
"No!" Harry could handle living without that, thank you very much.
Snape sat quietly for a moment. He knew exactly what he wanted to say next; he just wasn't certain how to phrase it. "You do know I can't give you any answers to your problems. Can't say anything to make it feel better."
This time Harry did spill some of the juice. Fortunately it landed on his hand. Putting the glass on the table, he licked his hand clean, and then fixed his gaze firmly on the floor. "Yes, sir."
"However, I can listen if you need to talk, and maybe even give some advice. But that's the extent of it." Snape knew everyone had to make their own decisions, but it still annoyed him. He was used to making potions, where one needed exact amounts of ingredients. It was precise, unlike this.
Harry kept his gaze on the floor. "I appreciate it, sir. I really do." No matter how stupid it made him feel. At least it didn't make him feel all unworthy and suicidal, so it was a good thing.
"There is one thing I can tell you. You said you don't want to live with all the expectations of our world, and that whatever will happen with Vol... He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named will doom you." It was weird, but even now, Snape couldn't utter his former Master's name.
Not paying any attention to the slip, Harry nodded. "Yes." He was rather surprised Snape had actually got any of the things he'd said. To him, the words were a confusing mess. "That's the way it feels."
"I see. It must be so difficult and unfair to be expected to be some kind of a messiah." The very familiar sneer was as cruel as ever. "That is life, Potter. No one ever promised it was fair, no exceptions, not even for the Boy Who Lived. It's up to you to decide what you will do with it. As I see, you can either play a given role, live your own life or simply leave our world."
That was definitely not what Harry had expected. He looked at Snape, his mouth slightly open. "What?"
Snape didn't even bother to hide his amusement. "You heard me. You have to decide what's most important to you; fame, your life, or running away. Your choice. No one else can choose for you."
It had been his choice once. He'd been stunned by Dumbledore's blunt words back then, but they had made him think. In the end he'd chosen to live instead of hiding or drowning in darkness that held no real glory.
Harry nodded slightly, seeing Snape's point. It wasn't hard to make a decision if those three were his options. Keeping that decision would be hell.
There was nothing else Snape had to say to him, no other advice. Potter would have to try to use his head for once and choose. How terrifying that the fate of the wizarding world should hang on such a thing, because there was no way of telling which way he'd go. If he truly was the way Snape had feared, he'd continue being a hero, continue riding on his fame. Albus seemed to be betting on Potter being true to himself. But there was always the third option. Choosing a life away from all that could hurt or even kill him.
A coward's choice, Snape would say, unless he hadn't contemplated that very hard before joining Dumbledore's fight.
Feeling the silence stretch enough to become rather awkward, Harry squirmed. "Thank you. For listening. And the advice." It had been the first time anyone had said it out loud, and he couldn't resent Snape even for the barely veiled insults he'd included there.
He didn't want to talk about it anymore, needing to get out of here now. It was too real and too raw and he had to go to his friends and not think about this for a moment. Maybe even fly a little; soaring high in the sky on his Firebolt was the most soothing thing he knew.
Snape could read the need to escape between the lines and nodded. "You're welcome, Potter. I believe you can manage to find your
way back to the Gryffindor tower. Even you can't get lost in here anymore, I assume." The sarcasm was accompanied by an eyebrow that climbed even higher as Snape saw Harry's scowl.
Amazingly, though, he didn't reduce House points for Potter being insolent with expressions.
Standing up, Harry gathered his things with him. He was a bit surprised to find out he'd left his wand back in the dormitory. It made him realize just how messed up he'd been last night. First rule of the Order; never lose your wand. This was the second time he managed that inside a month.
Dumbledore would be so disappointed in him.
The thought made him grimace. No matter how he tried, there was always a small voice reminding him of that. It would be extremely difficult for him to get his head straight.
"Potter." Snape had seen the strange expression. He knew things were far from clear, and decided to do something to make sure there would be no more nightly visits. "You have double Potions on Tuesday."
Harry nodded. He didn't know what brought that up. "Yes, after lunch." The dreaded Potions class that usually took away Neville's appetite. "Why?"
"I think you'd better come here afterwards." Snape's voice was unreadable. "Do your homework in peace. Spend some time alone. Think about things."
"You mean talk about stuff that's making me nuts." If Snape wanted blunt, he'd get blunt. Harry knew what he meant. "I think..." He had to actually think about that. Did he want to come back to talk to Snape? Actually, yes. The previous night had scared him, the depth of his own misery frightening. He didn't want to end up like that again. "Yeah. I'd like that."
Snape had waited patiently; rather pleased Potter would actually think it through before agreeing or declining. How unlike a proper Gryffindor. "Good. You will remain after the class then." He watched the boy nod and walk to the door.
Before opening the door, Harry stopped and turned back to Snape. He needed to know one thing. "Are you going to make me scrub more cauldrons as well?" He could have sworn there was a flicker of amusement in Snape's eyes as he shook his head minutely. "Oh. Then why? Why are you doing this?" Why was the man being so... Not exactly nice, but not acting like a total git either.
"Because, Mr. Potter, when I was in the same situation as you are, I wasn't smart enough to ask for help before it was almost too late." Snape's words came out coldly, almost on their own volition. "When I did, someone listened."
It was quite clear to Harry who that someone had been. He thought of a younger Snape talking to the Headmaster and wondered how difficult it must have been on both of them. But at least Dumbledore hadn't had any great expectations of Snape, like everyone seemed to have of him. "I understand, sir. Well... Bye." With that, he hurried out of the room.
Even though he knew the boy wouldn't hear him, Snape said, "Good bye, Mr. Potter."
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-18 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-18 08:03 pm (UTC)But yeah, Snape really needs to see Harry as he is, not as he think he is. Of course it'll take a while for them to actually be comfortable with each other. Yeah. When I said megafic, I wasn't kidding.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-19 01:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-19 05:16 am (UTC)Poor man. :)
Oh, Ron would be so horrified! If Harry told him about Snape actually bathing, he'd go all teenagey (OMG! WTF!!!1!) and then probably keel over when he realizes just exactly how does Harry know that.
Hmmm... That might actually be amusing.