To Stay the Shadow
- Vain
03.01 – 04.27.2008
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Standard Disclaimer:
I own nothing except the plot. Harry Potter and all the elements therein are the intellectual property / registered trademarks of JK Rowling, Scholastic Books, and Warner Brothers. All the definitions preceding the chapters are taken from "The Devil's Dictionary," by Ambrose Bierce, originally published in newspapers in a serialized version between 1881 and 1906 as "The Cynic's Word Book," and then bound and republished in 1911 under its current name.
Summary: SS/HP slash. Once upon a time Severus Snape fell in love. And then everything went wrong.
Warnings: SS/HP slash, Book 6 & 7 S.P.O.I.L.E.R.S. Please note, this story is NOT Book 7 compliant; AU-ish; language; angst.
Rated: R
Length: roughly 25,400 words.
Notes: This fic was written for the 2008 Snarry Games for Team Phoenix.
Prompts: Reckoning & Ashes of Youth; Genre: Angst
Special Thanks once again to the mods for not killing me after email # 3, and especially to my invaluable betas Venivincere, Alisanne, & Ziasudra for beating me with Spelling, Grammar, and Diction Sticks (and to Bethbethbeth and Tsujton for the additional edits). They are now my personal heroes and made this story a thousand times better; all remaining errors are solely my own. Also, much love to the rest of Team Phoenix for all their help and support. This would never have been completed if not for you guys' feedback and encouragement.
Plagiarism is no one's friend.
Enjoy!
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Part One:
To Free
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
EMANCIPATION, n. A bondman's change from the tyranny of another to the despotism of himself.
He was a slave: at word he went and came;
His iron collar cut him to the bone.
Then Liberty erased his owner's name,
Tightened the rivets and inscribed his own.
—G.J.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
His knuckles were red from being rubbed too much. Harry had been wringing his hands again.
Severus sat across their small dining room table from the young man he'd come to share both his quarters and his life with and remained silent, simply sitting and staring at the former Gryffindor's dull expression for several moments. He should have been angry. After all, he was far more the victim here than Potter.
Hadn't he done his duty?
Kept his promise?
Three years . . . Was that really how long they'd been together? And then somehow during those three years they went from being Severus Snape and Harry Potter to becoming this strange, amorphous SeverusHarry creature.
Really, this whole exercise in stupidity had imposed on his time and his life. He had opened his quarters to the Potter whelp. He had had to deal with every sob session and mood swing and petty argument and insufferable, frantic episode the brat had had ever since the last year of the war. Every time Harry Potter had faltered and fallen, Severus had been there to lift him up. Moreso even than those insipid friends of his whom he loved so dearly. If anything, the brat should be thanking him on bended knee!
Severus's lip twitched towards a sneer, but there was no heart in it and the expression was gone almost as soon as it appeared. He had found several years ago that it was becoming very difficult to sneer at the boy and mean it.
Ha—Potter looked up. Even at 23 years old, his hair was still a mess. Strands stuck up in the air whenever he scrubbed his hands through it as he so often did and would occasionally fall into his face. He no longer wore his glasses, the cokebottle lenses sacrificed in favor of Muggle contact lenses. The lack of spectacles made his eyes seem more prominent and accented the gentle, masculine lines of his face rather than obscured them. And Harry's eyes—those damnably green, almond-shaped eyes—were still as vibrantly green as ever, always lighting up at the first sign of injustice or abuse towards anyone, himself included. It was the eyes that always held Severus's attention—the rest of the package was really just trim. Still, he did not look his age. And he certainly did not look like he had not only survived a war, but been integral to winning one. The only visible signs of the trials the boy had been through were his trademark lightening bolt scar and a second long, thin scar slicing from his left temple and down at a very slight angle to wrap around his jaw line, touching the soft, vulnerable skin of his neck. The scars, and his eyes. Always those eyes. There was nothing distinctly different about them, but sometimes when he thought no one was looking, they would grow distant and sad. Or dark and shuttered.
Those were the times that Severus both liked most and feared most. Then, the boy was silent and wholly undramatic, weighed down by loss and a price that no one should have demanded of him. Weighed down and dragged back to earth, yes. But also weighed down and nearly broken under the burden. Then, faced with the pale wreckage that few other beings on the planet ever saw, Severus would wonder how he was ever supposed to keep his oath.
Only now, there was no more oath to keep, was there?
Now . . . He was free. His debt was finally discharged.
"We're done."
The dusty whisper broke the silence and surprised the Potions Master so much that he started. For one wild moment he wondered if he had been the one to say it, but then Ha—(Potter, damnit!)—looked up, looking as though something within him had shattered. Severus froze beneath that emerald gaze, unable to say anything. If the boy wanted to, he could kill him right now . . . simply dash him away in a hopelessly overwhelming burst of magic before Severus could ever hope to raise a proper defense.
Foolish boy. You have no idea how powerful you are . . .
Harry licked his lips and Severus had to pretend for a moment that he was not painfully aware of what that tongue felt like on his skin.
"I said that we're done now," Potter repeated in that dry, too old voice. The betrayal in his eyes cut deeply. "Your debt is absolved."
Somehow, Severus had not expected that.
"Aren't you going to go?" the boy demanded harshly, voice cracking pitifully at the end. "Aren't you going to—" He broke off and looked away, choked for a moment.
Severus stared at him across the small table and did not move. For a long moment, the only noise was a log popping in the fire. Harry still did not look at him and the room seemed unbearably hot. Potter twisted away from his cold, piercing gaze like a bit of tinder licked by flames.
Severus's eyes narrowed. "These are my quarters."
The words hung in the air like a physical thing and Harry . . . Potter flinched and looked up at him with a hopelessly wounded expression.
Severus said nothing.
"I . . . I see." The boy stood, reddened hands shaking.
He pushed his chair in under the table and Severus watched in silence. The boy's shoulders were shaking. And when he raised his gaze to the older wizard's again, his green eyes looked clouded behind a thick veil of unshed tears.
"Did I mean anything to you? Me?" he asked after a pause. "Anything at all?" His voice trembled, but somehow seemed strong all the same. "This . . . Any of this . . . Did it ever matter to you? At all? W-when we made lo—" He caught himself, staring hard into his former lover's eyes. "When we fucked . . ." The word sounded cold and harsh coming from his mouth. "Did it mean anything to you? Even for an instant?"
The Slytherin met his gaze calmly. He knew the answer the boy wanted. The spilled memories on the floor were evidence enough of that. And perhaps he was guilty of the implied accusation. But he didn't owe Potter anything. Not when memories of her lay splattered across the floor.
"Potter, when we began this . . . 'liaison,' you asked me why I permitted it. I told you then that you were the burden I had chosen to carry until my life's end. Did you think I was joking? Do you think that you have ever been anything more to me than an obligation?"
Harry stared at him, seeming to be searching for something, but Severus simply stared back. What is not present cannot, after all, be found, no matter how hard one searches. After a few minutes, Harry seemed to realize this too, for he stood, back straight, and turned to go, head bowed sadly. "Then I release you from your obligation, Severus Snape. You truly are free now."
The boy . . . man . . . walked towards the door, stepping over the hopelessly shattered Pensieve and the silver memories staining the floor as he went, and took his cloak off of what had been his peg for the past three years. He paused at the door and looked back over at the man he had come to depend on more than he'd thought possible. Severus looked back, his face as expressionless as the porcelain Death Eater's mask he used to wear.
Harry took one final look around the chambers that had been the only home he'd ever really had. ". . . I will send for my things." And then the young man turned and walked out of the room, leaving Severus Snape alone to stare at the fire and wonder why he felt anything but free.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o