AN: This is actually a re-post! I wrote this fic a while ago now, probably a couple of years now that I think of it, and am deciding to put up again after my account was deleted. So if itseems at all familiar, then that's why!

The rating is for sexual themes, which will be editeddown to theM rating rather than the original NC-17.

This IS a slash fic between Severus Snape and Harry Potter. That means love between two men. If you are not comfortable with this, then please save yourself by not reading. This fic will also be dealing with a few other themes, including self-harm and attempted suicide. So please be warned.

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong rightfully to JK Rowling. No profit is being made.

THE LOVE OF REASSURANCE

CHAPTER ONE: ALL FOR THE BEST

Life at Hogwarts for Harry Potter was one of much significance. Never before in his life had Harry ever felt such amity within him self, and it was all due to the fact he attended such a fine school. Every minuscule detail of Hogwarts was incredible, and Harry couldn't get enough of it.

True there had been hard times, the fiasco with just being himself attracted enough attention and caused difficulties. There were many who thought, by Harry's fourth year, that he was just a fame-seeking brat. The first was Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, who had more than assumed Harry was more interested in publicity than even he himself was. There were others of course, Draco Malfoy for one, not to mention Professor Severus Snape Harry's not so humble Potions Master. But as long as Harry had his friends, everything was fine.

Or so he thought.

Things just weren't going so well. Harry continually had too much homework, most of which came from the most pathetic of all subjects which was Divination. It wasn't that it was the most difficult subject, he and Ron were doing fine by simply predicting every sort of un-thinkable ways of dieing; then handing it in. It was just so time consuming. Believe it or not, it did actually take time to make up stuff, and double check that you weren't going to be strangled by one of the Weasley's garden gnomes twice in one week. The tediousness of it all was wearing him down, along with other things.

Day in day out, ever since the first moment he had entered this class, Potions was a complete drag. No, it was more than that; it was worse than the kiss of a Dementor. And that was saying something. Sitting in the back row with his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Harry was awaiting the next insult for he was sure it would be coming. And it did every time. Maybe that mad Professor Trelawney was right about the whole knowing the future rubbish.

As slimy as ever, Snape approached Harry's desk. This went unknown to the boy as he was in a far off dreamland, hoping that by some miracle the bell would sound early.

"POTTER!"

Harry snapped to attention.

"Sir?" He asked, raising his eyes brows innocently.

"I asked you a question, although it seems you were too busy daydreaming. Ten points from Gryffindor and it will be another ten if you can't answer me, and no help from you Granger!" The outskirts of Snape's thin lips were ever so slightly pointing upwards, revealing a crooked smirk. Harry couldn't be bothered with his crap today of all days. Not even the smarmy look on Malfoy's ferret-ish features could provoke Harry today.

"I don't know Sir." He said tonelessly. Snape didn't look impressed.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor and detention! See me after class, Potter!" He turned sharply, and if it were anyone else, his or her hair would have swished at the sudden action. But because this was Snape, it stayed unmoving and oiled to his scalp. Malfoy sneered.

Harry took a deep breath and awaited the bell.

After what seemed like an endless eternity, the bell rang signifying the end of the class. At once, students began disembarking the room. Ron and Hermione insisted that they wait behind for Harry, but Harry knew there was no point in them wasting their free afternoon waiting outside a classroom listening as Harry received an ear bashing. So reluctantly, they left too.

Harry knew well enough by now to just stay seated and wait for the time when Snape decided he was ready to chat. It seemed that time came all too soon.

"Here, Potter." The dark haired professor ordered. Harry complied and sat in the seat that Snape had conjured next to his desk. There was an awkward moment.

"Listen Potter, don't think this is going to be a regular occurrence, but this is happening far too often as of late. I wont deny the fact I enjoy taking points from Gryffindor on your accord, but then I'm sure you like any moment you can get in the lime-light." He stopped to survey what Harry's reactions were; Harry's face was strangely blank. "So explain. Are you that insistent on failing Potions?"

Harry looked up into the cold black eyes interrogating him. By now, Harry had come to recognise Snape's moods and thought he had the man figured out, as he had with most his teachers. But there was something more with Snape, like a hidden jewel in the bottom of a murky river bed, awaiting to be discovered by some miracle.

Harry noticed the vein on Snape's temple begin to visibly pulse; he needed some quick excuse before the Potions master used Avada Kedavra on him, he didn't need that again. Actually... the idea didn't seem too bad at the moment.

"Well?" Snape insisted, taking a step closer as if to intimidate Harry further.

"I don't know, Sir." Harry finally said, deciding that he really didn't know why. Well he did, but was he really going to confide some of his most deepest and inner thoughts to Snape of all people? He didn't think so.

"I'm getting tired of these I don't knows Potter, I can't imagine you wanting a month of detentions..." Snape smirked once more.

"As if you care," Harry boomed, rage suddenly filling him from no-where "you love humiliating me in front the class, in front of your troop of ugly Slytherin slime balls, you get your kicks from taking extra points from Gryffindor you said it yourself! I bet it's only because we've won the house cup three years in a row and you know you can't win!" Harry paused, awaiting Snape's reaction, or more likely, awaiting further punishment. To Harry's surprise, Snape just stared back at him expressionless. It was only then Harry realised how close he was to the Potions master, and gasped in shock when he realised he had taken a fist full of his black robes.

"I suggest you unhand me, Potter... and calm yourself." Snape said in a strangely passive voice that seemed unnervingly alien to Harry's ears. Harry relaxed his grip and sat back in his chair. He was feeling almost ashamed to look Snape in the eye, so he stared at the crinkle marks he had left on Snape's robe instead.

I wonder if there're irons in the Wizarding world? Harry thought idly to himself, but then realised that anything to do with Muggles was probably not. Harry also berated himself at his stupidity.

There isn't even Muggle electricity here! What am I thinking? He hung his head in his hands.

Harry's blood almost froze when he felt the sudden weight of a hand on his shoulder. Maybe Snape had put a hex on him? Maybe he was dreaming? He didn't think so. Harry looked up into the sullen face of Snape who, for the first time since Harry had ever seen him, appeared almost human. Harry knew he must have had the most incredulous expression on his face, but there was nothing that could subdue his shock at Snape's action... Any amount of human kindness simply was not in this mans nature.

"S... Sir?" Harry stuttered, and hated himself for doing so. He didn't want to show he was surprised at the actions.

"Listen Potter, just because you are who you are doesn't mean you're going to get any favours in class from me, you should know that by now. I'll admit you're not my favourite person, but realise that in my class I expect full attention from my students, nothing less will do. And I know for a fact you haven't been paying full attention, but that's just an added bonus for me in some ways. You see where I'm getting at?" Snape asked, sighing in what appeared to be frustration.

Harry was silent for a moment. "I... I guess."

"So Potter, as much to my dismay, as a teacher it's my responsibility to not only punish you but find the root of your misbehaviour. Now if you're not going to tell me, I could always go and get the Veritaserum..." He threatened coldly.

Harry thought for a moment. If Snape gave him that potion who knows what he might blab! "There's nothing to tell, sir." Harry thought for the slightest moment that Snape may have believed his bluff, but it worked as well on him as had done on Sirius.

"Potter, how do you expect me to help when you wont tell me?" Snape was feeling frustration. It felt so odd to be acting this way to Harry Potter, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse when he saw the dull look in Potter's usually bright green eyes. There was something bothering the boy, and he intended to find out what it was.

"It's not like I asked you," Harry replied snidely, rediscovering some his old flames "you could just turn a blind-eye like you usually do Snape, you obviously have no consideration for others at all..." Harry stood to leave.

"Oh no you don't" Snape seized the hem of Harry's cloak before he could get too far. "You're not going anywhere unless you want a whole year of detentions and one hundred and fifty points from Gryffindor... Still leaving?" He asked, knowing he had won. Harry was fuming, but grudgingly replaced himself back in the chair. This time Snape took his seat too.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Harry asked in a now tired tone, this was getting very cumbersome. Snape thought for a moment. Harry was greatly surprised that Snape didn't pull him up on he calling him Snape and dropping all the formalities, any other time Harry would have been sure he would have been stunned on the spot.

"Look, Harry," He put slight, but noticeable emphasis on Harry's first name, which he had never called him. "As much as some people hate to admit it, there are just some circumstances that change everything. And now is one of those circumstances. Never have I treated you this way before, which you would know, but you also must understand that I have my reasons for acting the way I do, as I am sure you do too. Am I right?"

This finally got Harry's attention. "Yes, I suppose so."

"So tell me Potter, I can assure you what ever conversation transpires between us, it will be left strictly between us. Can you trust me?" Snape asked, an express on his face that Harry had never identified him to have shown before. Harry thought for a moment.

"I don't think I can, Sir. You know as well as I that I have reason to suspect your motives, I mean, wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity to get me to reveal something you can use, once again, against me?" Harry said, feeling a wave of something like pride rushing through him.

"Okay Potter... I was hoping it wasn't going to have to come to this." Snape paused as if to survey Harry for a moment. "I'll be seeing you every night for the next two weeks. If you don't improve or tell me by the end of those two weeks, it will be another two. You are dismissed." Snape stood from his chair and began clearing up all his teaching things. Harry, feeling worse than ever, got up and left.

The next two days passed slowly, much to Harry's dismay, and nothing seemed to get any brighter for the Boy-Who-Lived. It was just the same-old same-old, only now without any sort of amusement. Hermione was continually trying to get both Harry and Ron to study, because their 7th year was a very important year, but that was nothing different. Ron was, as always, making excuses not to do work.

"Hey Dean, fancy a game of exploding snap?"

Hermione glared at both boys.

"Sure!" Dean grinned and abandoned his Transfiguration homework.

At this time, of course, Harry was down in the dark dungeons. Snape had set him to work, sorting out various vials of different potions. It seemed Snape was actually running out of tasks to give him for this one was to pointlessly put them into alphabetical order.

Snape had tried to coax an explanation out of Harry, but it was just impossible- even for the intimidating greasy git of a Potions Master. And surprisingly, he had left Harry in the Potions room by himself. Usually Snape would busy himself at his desk, either marking work or doing whatever else it was that teachers did.

So this left Harry sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor. Alone. The room had always been dank, but from this lower point of view it seemed even more so. It was just such a depressing scene; Harry didn't know how Snape could bare to be in there for the majority of his time. The room just screamed out for you to think of anything and everything bad in your life, and Harry couldn't help but reflect on his.

During of all his hardships, Harry realised, he had never really confided in someone. Sure he told Ron and Hermione everything that had happened, but he had only told them what had prevailed- not what he had been feeling. Over the past few years, Harry had known that there was something manifesting inside of him, an emotion so dark that even he was too afraid to properly search it. He could feel it, mostly in the deep of the night when he laid awake, too afraid to sleep as to avoid the horrific nightmares that had been plaguing him since his first year.

But right now, in this gloomy room, Harry couldn't help but feel this unknown emotion rising. It was even a little frightening, as it suddenly washed over him in waves of pain. Not a pain like that of being kicked in the gut, but more like an inner ache of feelings. It hurt in his chest, and he felt the stale air he was breathing rush out quicker than it should.

Memories... Lots of thoughts came flooding back to him. Back to the days of primary school, Dudley and his bullies... being stuck up the tree after Aunt Marges dog chased him up there and them leaving him up there till it was past midnight... The first time he saw Voldemort, hearing for the first time of his parents murder... Fighting against Tom Riddle in the chamber of secrets, killing the Basilisk snake... Hearing his dead mothers screams of anguish... The weight of the fate of the Wizarding and the Muggle worlds on his shoulders...

Harry closed his eyes to fight away the burning. He had yet to cry, to wallow in his own sadness. And there was no way he was going to do it now, not in Snape's dungeon... not ever. But how could he fight it off? Voldemort was still out there, biding his time before he pursued yet another attack on Harry.

Harry was living in borrowed time.

It would be all too soon before he would have to face the Dark Lord again, and whose to know if he will live through it? No one has ever lived though as many encounters with him as Harry had, and maybe it was all luck... it would be just a matter of time before that luck ran out. If someone like Dumbledore couldn't keep the Lord at bay, what chance on earth would someone like Harry have? Hell, he could barely manage to pass potions let alone Duel and win against the most powerful wizard of his time.

A sudden sharp sound made him flinch, and Harry realised he had been clutching the beaker he had been holding too tightly. Shards of glass lie on the ground, and Harry noticed he was bleeding.

But that's strange... He thought, looking at the gushing wound. It doesn't hurt... Harry just sat and stared as a pool of blood steadily dripped to the ground. It began making a river of thick redness in the crevices between the stone on the floor, and he couldn't help but wonder when it was going to stop.

With his non-injured hand, Harry used a finger to feel the gape, and found that there was a rather large piece of glass imbedded in his palm. He found the edge, and gave a tug. A pain flared, but it was surprisingly comforting. For the last few months, Harry had been feeling rather numb, and he couldn't help the smile he felt on his lips. He felt human. And humans can break too.

Getting a better grip of the glass, he held it tightly and pulled. The jarring action caused more damage than he thought it would, and the wound grew another few centimetres. It began just under his forefinger, running the length of his palm to just above the beginning of his wrist. He was sure there was more glass in there, but there was just too much blood to see anything.

Still holding the removed slither of glass, he tested its sharpness on the tip of his finger on his good hand. It cut him easily.

Harry's head began to spin as he finally realised what had happened. He was loosing blood quickly, and realised he must have definitely hit a vein.

But maybe this is for the best... He thought, looking at the blood stained glass. Maybe if I just die of blood-loss, Voldemort will give up trying to kill me and then no more of the people I love will have to die... And I'll get to see Mum and Dad... Hermione and Ron will be safe... It's all for the best. A wry smile spread on his face, and Harry brought the glass to the injured hands wrist.

He could see the bluey colour of his pulsing vein pumping the blood that was leaking out of his palm... He put the glass on it and pressed. Harry could feel his skin breaking, but it was almost as if it was surreal. It was like it wasn't really him that was doing it, that he was merely watching from somewhere else. The sharp edge went deeper, a torrent of red now flowing and joining up with the rest of the blood that had formed a pool on the stone. Harry drew the sharpness down gradually, as if savouring it. He shut his eyes and smiled.

All for the best... All for the best...

His head began spinning in a delightful way, and he suddenly felt like sleeping. Harry vaguely noticed he had dropped the glass, and tried to open his eyes to find it again. Seeing bright stars shoot across his vision, Harry didn't even feel himself slump and land in his own, now cooling, blood.

And there he lay, still with smile on his face.

All for the best...

I will be updating fairly quickly, as this fic is complete- I just need to re-read the chapters before I post them to make sure there are no faults- any missed misktakes are all my own, and for reasons that are also my own I choose not to have a beta reader.

Thankyou for reading! Please review...