![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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 Two: -Voldemort has a plan. To make it work, he needs his most loyal Death Eaters and their progeny. After a vicious attack, two Slytherins must decide if blood is thicker than potions.
"Get out."
The words, even though said with calm and quiet voice, silenced everyone in the infirmary.
Madam Pomfrey nodded at the silence. "That's better. Now if you insist on arguing and yelling, be so kind as to do it somewhere else. This is a hospital, and we have sick people here."
Most of the people gathered in the infirmary managed to actually look embarrassed. With a parting glance at professor McGonagall who was still unconscious, they started to file out, dodging the black dog sitting in the doorway.
Professor Dumbledore remained where he stood, refusing to budge. "We will meet tomorrow," he said to anyone who was listening, knowing the Order would get the message. They needed to know about the things that had just happened, but this was not the time for a meeting. Everyone was tired and relieved, and probably needed a good night's sleep before anything else happened.
It was also a moment for him to be completely selfish. He'd managed to stay calm during the terrible hours of waiting, refusing to think about his old friend. Now that she was lying here, pale as a ghost, he wanted a few hours for just himself. Didn't want to be forced away from Minerva's sickbed.
Madam Pomfrey had examined her earlier and announced she would live. She'd sent an owl to St. Mungo's for consultation, but was confident in her skills in treating her patient.
Soon, there were only five people left in the infirmary. Madam Hooch and McGonagall were both sleeping. Snape on the other hand was wide awake, glaring angrily at Poppy, who was measuring potions for him to drink.
"I am perfectly capable of taking the appropriate potions myself." Grimacing with distaste, he took the offered spoon anyway and swallowed the syrupy concoction.
Poppy glared right back. "Don't be ridiculous, Severus. You should stay in bed for at least two days. Preferably here in the infirmary, so I can monitor you."
That sounded about as much fun as a shopping expedition in the Muggle world. Snape wondered if Poppy really imagined he would stay. "No. If you must fuss over me, go ahead and do it quickly so I can leave."
With a suffering sigh, Poppy went to get some bandages. The man was truly infuriating!
Dumbledore turned his attention from Minerva for a moment, taking in the pained look on Snape's face. It didn't seem to be completely due to physical discomfort. "What happened, Severus?"
"Would you mind waiting until I get some sleep before I tell you all the sordid details?" Only an ounce of his usual sarcasm in his voice, Snape sighed. "I have something to do before I can rest, and I..." He couldn't find the proper words for this. The familiar feeling of helplessness washed over him, and he hated it. Hated it just like he had all those years ago when he'd first bared whatever was left of his soul before this man.
Gaze full of warmth, Dumbledore nodded. Right this moment, he couldn't refuse Severus anything. He would give him whatever he wanted. "All right. We will talk about this tomorrow."
After Poppy had finished bandaging Snape' arm, she grudgingly allowed him to leave. She knew the only way to keep him in her infirmary was to knock him unconscious. That went against her oath, so she settled for muttering unflattering things about stubborn men as he slowly walked out.
Snape let out a deep breath as he stepped out to the corridor. He hated spending time at the infirmary. Hated all the fussing and being at the center of attention.
Maybe he should have followed the last bit of reason he had, then, a small voice chided inside his head. He snorted at that. Yes. Maybe he should have. It was so easy to think of that now, when it was all over.
"Um... Professor? I mean, Snape?"
The hesitant voice made Snape roll his eyes. Perfect! Just the person he least wanted to see right now. Not counting Voldemort and his cohorts, of course. "Go away, Potter." Not even bothering to look at the boy, he started walking down the corridor towards the dungeons.
Harry hurried after him. He'd stayed outside the infirmary, knowing he needed to see the man alone. It had taken him some time to convince Sirius and Remus to leave him alone here, but eventually the two men had left. Not before Sirius managed to get him to promise to tell him what was going on with him the next day.
A promise he might have to keep.
It wasn't difficult to keep up with Snape. He was clearly exhausted, the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him were not really helping him with that. Harry knew better than to try to assist him, standing still as he stumbled a few times on his way downstairs.
Snape was ready to hex the boy by the time he reached the dungeon level. "Do you not understand simple speech? Go away. Go back to your friends and have a party. Go to bed and sleep. Go to that mutt of a godfather of yours. Do whatever you want, as long as you do it somewhere else!" He couldn't even get all his ire and sarcasm into the words, a fact that infuriated him even more.
"Sorry, Snape. The Headmaster's orders." The lie was easy to say. Harry was certain that Dumbledore would approve.
Cursing the meddlesome coot, Snape turned around and tried to ignore Harry. He had more important things to think of now. The night had been a dismal failure, and it was not over yet.
He walked past the Potions classroom, not heading towards the corridor that held his private chambers. Instead, he went to the Slytherin rooms. His students would be awake still, probably all wondering what was going on. They'd have to continue wondering. He was not going to justify his actions to a group of Death Eater children. At least not now.
There was a message he had to deliver. One that was not a pleasant one. Not to him, and not to the one he was taking it to.
Harry didn't say anything as Snape stopped outside the Slytherin common room. He simply leaned against the wall. If his professor thought he was going to leave, he didn't really know him. The poisonous glare Snape was once again throwing at him suggested that he did.
"I would appreciate it if you weren't here when I return." With that, Snape muttered the password, and watched the wall reveal the doorway. He did not look back as he stepped into the common room.
The lights were low in the Slytherin rooms, casting shadows on the cavernous walls. Most of the older Slytherins were lounging in the deep green couches and chairs, clearly waiting for something to happen.
Snape stood silently at the doorway, looking at his students. He could see shock and puzzlement on many. Even anger. It was not unexpected. He'd seen the children of the Death Eaters in the Malfoy Mansion that Yuletide and knew that most of the students he'd helped to raise would take up the masks the following summer.
It would be painful. A failure. Especially since now he would be forced to fight against them. He'd thought he might be able to spy on them, to seek for weaknesses that might lead them to betray the Dark Lord. One more opportunity he had thrown away in a moment of utter madness.
His students were now staring at him, stunned by his appearance. That reminded Snape he was still wearing his torn robes. It didn't really matter. His looks were the least of his problems.
"Many of you will receive owls from your parents tomorrow morning." Voice cold and clear, Snape focused his gaze on Draco Malfoy. He knew Lucius. There would be others as well. "I would like to remind you, that while you're under this roof, you will not get away with any illegal activity. No matter whose commands you follow."
Comprehension dawned on some young faces, followed by utter horror.
Snape nodded curtly. "Obeying the Dark Lord is only one option. Being a Slytherin does not mean you have to join him."
There were whispers now. Stunned words of disbelief. Pansy Parkinson was leaning against Millicent Bulstrode as if she was feeling faint.
Draco Malfoy on the other hand was simply staring at Snape.
"Go to bed everyone." Snape made a small gesture towards the dormitories, barely hiding his disgust. His words wouldn't matter; most of these children were already lost.
The reaction ingrained into them years ago, the Slytherins obeyed the Head of their House without comments.
"Mr. Goyle. Stay. You too, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Malfoy." Once again not a request, but a command.
The three Slytherins remained standing by the hearth as the others disappeared into the dormitories. All feeling stunned. It was a rather usual emotion for Vince and Greg, but this felt different. Ominous.
Draco watched Snape stand there, his mind completely blank. This couldn't be happening. His father's letter had clearly stated they were going to kill McGonagall. If this was some kind of a ruse to lull Dumbledore into trusting a known 'former Death Eater', it didn't really make any sense. Neither did Snape's words.
It had sounded almost as if the professor had warned them all against acting the way their parents and the Dark Lord wanted, but that was ridiculous. Snape knew as well as they did, that no one could resist lord Voldemort. He was one of the loyal ones. Why would he want anyone to resist?
His scrutiny didn't really tell him anything. Snape looked as cold as usual, his dark gaze focused on the three of them.
When the door leading to the dormitories banged shut, Snape stepped to the center of the room, turning to look at Goyle. He stood there for a long moment, his face revealing nothing.
Goyle was starting to shake. It didn't matter the professor was the Head of his House. He was always terrified when that glare was set on him.
"Mr. Goyle. Gregory." Snape's voice was softer now. There was no sign of malice or anger. No sign of any emotion.
The lack of the usual clipped tones and sarcasm made Goyle tremble even more. Next to him, Crabbe was fidgeting as well. They didn't react to Snape in the Potions class. There, he never focused solely on them. Official Slytherin business and those horrendous hours they had to suffer through every Friday were different.
Ignoring the overwhelming urge to flee from the room, Snape looked at his student. The expression was so familiar; the boy was almost a mirror image of his father with the same blank look on his face. He crammed the nausea down; there was no point in thinking about that now. Better just go on with his duty.
"I'm sorry to inform you, but earlier today, your father passed away."
There was a silence in the room. Goyle's eyes were huge as he looked at the Head of his House. He did not understand. What was Snape talking about? He must have misunderstood the words. Their meaning. He had heard wrong. Glancing helplessly at Draco, he asked, "What?"
Draco couldn't say anything, his mouth horribly dry.
"Gregory." Seeing the boy return his gaze to him, Snape said softly. "Your father is dead."
The simple words seemed to register. Goyle blanched. Next to him, Crabbe let out a whimpering sound. World seemed to crash down silently, muffling everything around him.
"How? How did he die?" Goyle's voice broke at the last word. Die. Died. Passed away. His father was dead. His hands were starting to shake.
Snape was quiet for a moment, the only words coming to his mind were the horrible truth. I killed him. I pointed my wand at him and dropped him with Avada Kedavra as he was about to kill Minerva. I killed your father, Gregory.
"He was amongst the people who took professor McGonagall. He was killed during the.... rescue mission." What a simple way to describe the blur of motion and the madness. The desperate fight raging in the small chamber. "I truly am sorry."
The uncharacteristically kind words seemed to hit Goyle. With a soft sob, he sat down on the couch and started to cry. Crabbe was by his side immediately, patting his shoulder awkwardly.
No. Snape had never been a good Death Eater. He did not feel any glee at the moment. No satisfaction of having his enemy dead.
His enemy? A simple man he'd known since his early teens. A man whose only son was his student, a member of his House. His responsibility.
"Take this." Snape took a small vial from under his robes and handed it to Malfoy. He knew he could trust on the boy with this. "It's Draught of the Living Death. He will probably need it later."
Draco nodded woodenly, accepting the offered vial.
Snape knew his presence would not be wanted anymore. This was the one occasion he couldn't fulfill his duty as the Head of his House. He could not offer the boy any consolation. There was no way he could have Goyle and his friends at the infirmary either. It would put McGonagall's life back in danger.
He would have to contact the only other Slytherin staff member and ask her to come and look after Goyle. Juno was used to spending nights awake, watching her precious stars. "I will send professor Sinistra to you." The words were still aimed at Malfoy, the pale boy probably the only one in the room capable of thought at the moment.
"Thank you, sir."
Since there was nothing more he could say or do, Snape turned around and walked out of the Slytherin common room.
He stumbled a little as he stepped into the corridor, leaning against the wall for support. Unable to remember when he'd last rested, Snape wanted nothing more than to crawl into his own rooms and sleep.
"Snape?"
Somehow he managed to find the strength to look up and glare at that. Maybe he would simply turn Potter into something unpleasant and then crawl into his rooms. Ignoring the boy, he straightened his back, and started walking again. Fortunately the way to his own door wasn't all that far.
With a simple touch on the snake -figure, Snape opened his door. He walked in, realizing only as the door closed a moment later that he wasn't alone. "I don't remember inviting you in, Potter."
"No." Shrugging, Harry walked to his usual chair, sitting down. "You didn't."
The casual attitude made Snape grit his teeth. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Now leave before I'm tempted to reduce them even more." For once, the annoying brat should listen.
Harry looked at the man, his gaze serious. He didn't know what had happened during the hours he'd been gone, but he had a hunch that it was all bad. People would be concentrating on professor McGonagall now, leaving Snape to slither back here. It didn't matter it was probably just what he wanted, it didn't feel right to leave him alone right now.
"I'm not going to leave. Even if you..." He swallowed the rest of the sentence. Better not risk Snape really taking every single House point off. "I feel I should stay."
"How lovely. Now get out!"
The Gryffindor stubborness was definitely not a myth. "No. You know as well as I do that we are..." Harry hesitated, trying to find a proper term. Nothing appropriate really came to his mind.
Snape glared at Harry. "You think we're... What? Friends?" The last word dripped with sarcasm. "If that's what you think, you truly are out of your mind."
"Don't be such a git." Not letting the barb get to him, Harry shook his head. "And no. I don't think we're friends. But we are both members of the Order of the Phoenix. That means something to me. So unless you want to bodily throw me out, I'm staying."
That earned him an even fiercer glare. "If that is what it takes..." It was clearly an empty threat. In his present condition Snape might just be able to throw out a Flobberworm, but not a full grown wizard.
Realizing this was not getting them anywhere, Harry dropped his gaze. "Please, Snape. I need to stay here." His voice was pleading.
"Oh for Merlin's sake..." Muttering a few words from under his breath, Snape surrendered. He had given the boy his permission to stay here whenever he needed it. "Fine. Just stay out of my way."
With that, he staggered to the bathroom.
It was a good thing he didn't see the smile on Harry's face. The expression would have probably driven him to do something extreme.
Snape kept his gaze away from the mirror as he stripped out of his dirty robes. He'd refused to take them off at the hospital wing, allowing Poppy to treat only the most urgent wounds on him. The robes pooled into a heap on the floor, but for once he didn't really care about the mess.
Even though he was dead on his feet, he needed a shower. He also needed a drink, but with the brat in his living room, there was no chance for that. So he had to settle with a shower.
Careful not to get the bandage on his left arm wet, he stood under the hot spray, hearing nothing but the rush of water and his own heartbeat.
Washing the grime and sweat away felt wonderful. Snape had to pry his eyes open again after rinsing his hair. He felt ready to drop any second now, but he had to get clean before going to bed. He stepped out of the shower stall, yawning so hard his jaws ached.
There was a long sleeved night robe hanging from the towel rack, and after towelling himself dry, Snape pulled the robe on.
His mind was half asleep already. He managed to walk out of the bathroom but the rest was a blur. He remembered there was something he had to do, but he couldn't manage more than another yawn, followed by some incoherent words. He'd simply come to the end of the line, his brains shutting down. Somehow he ended up in bed, covers drawn over him, just the way he preferred. He didn't really care how he'd got there. Nothing really mattered as he drifted asleep.
Harry was careful not to breathe too hard as he silently sneaked away from Snape's bedroom.
He'd stayed out of the man's way, but when it had become apparent Snape was about to collapse on the floor a moment after he emerged from the bathroom, he'd hopped up and helped him to the bedroom. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor.
Snape had been so exhausted he didn't even really notice Harry, which was a good thing. He would definitely not be grateful for any kind of assistance right now. Muttering something about needing to get professor Sinistra to take care of his Slytherins, Snape had allowed himself to be led to bed.
Walking back to the living room, Harry took a deep breath. This whole situation was freaking him out. Somehow things were changing again. Desperation had turned into fierce joy at the sight of McGonagall alive. And seeing Snape.
The comment the man had flung at him earlier was ringing in his head. No, the two of them were definitely not friends. But they were something.
Harry walked to the fireplace, trying not to think about it now. He needed to contact Dumbledore about Snape's wish. The Headmaster would get to professor Sinistra. Then he could go to his chair and get some sleep.
He'd spend the night here, like he had so many times before. Trying to sleep, trying not to worry about anything. Keeping the memory of Snape curling in bed as he pulled the covers over him somewhere at the back of his mind.
