Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies.

A/N: This story is a Goth!Harry story. Don't like it, don't read it. It was a request for a friend, so I'm writing it for her. I don't expect much applause for it, so don't feel the need to review unless you want to. THIS IS SLASH. Feel the need to criticize, or applaud. Flames will be tolerated. This story was written a while back, up until about the middle where I stopped. Actually, I think this story was written a few months after I started writing my other story, Seasons Change. Thus, I went back and revised, but it's still a bit etchy. I just didn't want to spend much time on this anymore, since it's not one of my main goals.

This is a fast moving, mature story. Their attraction will happen quickly, so if you don't like that, I'm sorry. I'm just making this story go as fast as possible. This is terribly cliche, too, I think.

Warnings: Rape, violence, Slash, and other mature stuff. Not quite sure what all of it is yet. So just stay tuned.

Full Synopsis: Goth!Harry, Young!Severus. Harry Potter had changed over the summer after Sirius died. Wearing black was an every day thing, as was the ring in his lower lip. Dudley and his gang, thinking he was nothing but trouble, decided they'd 'show' him a 'lesson' one night. After they beat and raped him, Harry soon finds himself back in time with a younger version of his Potions Professor, Snape. There's a catch to it all though - No one else can see him but Severus Snape. Or, at least at first no one else can't. Read as Severus and Harry find things about themselves that are more alike than either could ever imagine, and love begins to form a bond. But what will happen when others begin to see him? Parties, dancing, and sexual situations ahead.

Mirage Me This

By: xScenex

Chapter One

Harry found himself running down the dark roads, the hideous laughter following behind and around him. He couldn't stand the sound - the loud, riotous billows and the great roar from the motorcycle engines as they circled around him, cutting him off in all directions as he tried to veer off.

It hadn't been that long since the gang had found Harry at a nearby park. He had been minding his own business, thinking about what was going to happen now that Dumbledore was dead, when he had felt their presence before they were in his view. They had been spying on him for only God knew what reasons.

They had teased him mercilessly until he threatened them, which in return, he received threats - and now he was paying for it.

He could feel his body shake in ever rising fear as a shiny red motor bike flew in front of him at an alarming speed. He had to stop suddenly, but at the same time, was forced to sidestep far to the right to avoid being hit by another black bike. To the side was a small alleyway, which he ran through, hoping that it ended somewhere. But when he reached the end, a tall stone wall stood looming above him. It only took him half a second to realize he was blocked in.

"Potter's getting scared," someone laughed as obvious sweat rolled down Harry's face and neck, making his long black hair stick to his forehead. He couldn't discern who had said the previous sentence, but he wasn't about to look behind him to find out. "Hey, Big-D, what should we do now that Goth Boy is cornered?"

"I never liked him," 'Big-D' answered wickedly, his voice laced with venom. "I think we should show him a good lesson. He hasn't had one in a long time."

Harry turned around franticly upon hearing his cousin say those words. He was completely outnumbered, and he wasn't about to use magic in front of half a dozen muggles unless it was absolutely necessary. The boy franticly searched for a way out of the trap - and spotted a place between two of the smaller cronies, just big enough for his tiny frame to squeeze through. He took a deep breath and ran forward, hoping to dislodge himself from the group to find his way back on the street.

He was almost there when something slammed painfully into his shoulder blades, causing him to fall forwards with a loud cry.

He landed heavily on his arms, scraping them against the ground. That pain wasn't as bad as that in his back, which came in sharp, unexpected waves. A wet, sticky substance clung his shirt to his body, and he feared that it was his own blood.

"Where do you think you're going, Freak?" Dudley, his cousin, asked bitterly and Harry only had enough time to look at him through the curtain of black bangs in his eyes before something heavy collided with his stomach.

He bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling out.

"He's not even crying like he used to," said one of the other boys in annoyance.

"Maybe you should try harder," another answered. "like this."

The next blow came to his lower back. The impact jerked his body awkwardly to the left, and a loud yelp escaped his lips that trembled at the pain.

"That's more like it," Dudley grinned.

Harry closed his eyes tightly and tried to get up but a foot held him pinned to the ground. He could hear the jeering above him as the others cheered on whoever it was holding him down.

"What's the matter Goth Boy? Can't stand someone standing up against you?"

"Bugger off," Harry found himself growling in hate, his fear ebbing away as the anger filled his veins.

There were a few 'ohs' of challenge. Harry gritted his teeth together, the ring on his lower lip cutting into his gums as his lips pursed in annoyance.

"What was that?" came the angered reply. He had a vague idea that the kid challenging him was the Polkins' boy.

"I said," Harry lashed out maliciously, "Bugger off."

He expected the next blow, so it wasn't as bad as the sudden ones. He found himself being repeatedly kicked in every and all places of his body, except for his face. After his body numbed in pain, it wasn't so bad, he realized.

That is, until he felt a heavy weight solidly push against his lower torso.

In alarm, his eyes snapped completely open, fear evident in them. The sight that met him was of one of the boys - a taller, dark skinned one with a bowl haircut. He had straddled Harry's thin waist, his larger body nearly crushing the other boy.

Harry nearly yelped out but a large hand covered his mouth.

"Don't make any noise," someone growled next to his ear, their fowl breath blowing over Harry's flushed face. He shut his eyes tightly, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt a foreboding of something awful about to happen.

"Good," said the boy on top of Harry's body. "Keep him still."

Harry muted his mind out as hands began to roam his body. He couldn't move with half a dozen boys holding him down and another one on top of him. He couldn't even cry out do to the hand over his mouth and the knot in his throat. His wand was out of reach and he felt helpless.

The only noise he made was a distressed, muffled scream as his pants were pulled down roughly minutes later. He couldn't even register what exactly was happening, but he knew that he didn't want it to continue.

Especially when a sharp pain was sent through his body when something hard entered him, and a jerky rhythm of the body over him started. He could feel bile rising in the back of his throat. The disgusting smell of the other boys sweat met him.

Harry lay there for only God knows how long until suddenly, with a loud groan, the boy on top of him stopped moving and got up. Every hand left his body and the gang stood up, still surrounding Harry.

"That was fun," said a pleasured voice from near Harry's feet. He didn't open his eyes - he preferred not seeing the look on the others faces, especially the one that had just violated him.
"Yeah-" Dudley began sarcastically but was interuppted when a loud piercing noise echoed in the distance. All of the assailants stopped where they were and listened intently.

"Damn, it's the police," Dudley growled out. "I hope no one reported us."

"I'm not staying around to wait and see," said Polkins'.

Soon, a few of the motorbike engines roared to life before skittering away down the street with hurried goodbyes as the noise of the police car grew louder.

Harry felt his aching body being turned around so that he faced the dreary city sky. Dudley's face loomed over him.

"If you tell anyone about this, Freak, you'll regret you were ever born."

Harry watched dully as Dudley quickly jumped onto the back of another boy's bike and the two rode off.

The siren's were getting louder.

Harry groaned loudly, his eyes closing again; but this time in exhaustion from the pain. He doubted that any bones were broken from the early beating, but he was sure to have a lot of bruising for a long time to come, plus a few cuts if not worse. And he was feeling rather sore in his lower body.

"Why can't anything be like it was before?" Harry mumbled in disgust as he tried to sit himself up but collapsed on the ground again, thinking about the times after he had first went to Hogwarts and his cousin was scared to come even a few feet near him.

A dull wind picked up in the small alleyway, causing a few pieces of crumpled up newspaper to skid across the ground.

Harry wasn't fully aware that the siren's, once close, were now fading into a liquid silence and that the previously city-stained night sky was now a clear shade of morning dawn.

He gave a muffled groan once more as one last obvious wave of pain went though his body. Finally, in disgust as his weakness and of what had happened, he lent his head back against the ground, hair falling out of his thin, pallid face and darkness settled thickly on him.

"WHY CAN'T YOU BE LIKE ANY NORMAL PERSON!"

"Why can't you understand that it isn't my fault?!"

There was shouting.

A thin, ghostly pale boy around the age of sixteen sighed in complete disgust. Once again, his parents were fighting over only Merlin knew what. It sounded, though, as if it were once again about his mother's 'magical' heritage.

Snorting slightly, the boy turned away from the door that sat crookedly in it's frame so that he could look up at his ceiling.

The yellow stained ceiling was dotted in various places from his 'zapping the flies' game. He got tired of it when he was younger, but the spots where his 'zaps' had hit the flies still lingered, even after all those years.

"YOU WORTHLESS--"

The boy, who went by the name of Severus Snape, sat up hurriedly from his bed and made his way to the window of his room, which was streaked with dirt. From what he could tell, the morning sun was beginning to rise, leaving the sky a dark blue color.

He pushed on the latch of the window and swung it open enough for a small body to crawl out of - just enough for himself, in other words.

He didn't want to hear his parents fighting anymore. He'd heard enough of that for the day. He didn't care much about the fact itself, though, except that it bothered him when his father called them 'freaks of nature' and stuff such as that. That was insulting him as well as his mother.
It wasn't like it was his fault that he was what he was. He hadn't asked for the life he was given. It hadn't been his choice to be born a wizard.

Frail arms pushed a dangerously thin boy out of the window, his shoulder-length black hair being blown around his turned face as the wind caught it.

The drop from the window to the ground wasn't too far, and Severus easily landed on his feet in a small crouch, but he had to jump back up against the wall to avoid tumbling over a semi-naked body under his window.

"What the bloody hell!" he growled out, staring with wide eyes at a boy, just as pale as himself.

He surveyed the boy intensely, taking in the obvious facts that his body was completely bruised, and numerous small cuts bled from his arms and face. The shirt the boy wore was a darker shade of black from the sides and from under and he had a small feeling that there was a worse wound on his back.

He kept his eyes above the waist, willing himself not to stare at the other boy, who had obviously been through something terrible - and it sickened Severus to think that it had all happened under his window...

He worried his lower lip between his teeth, unsure of how to deal with the problem. Should he help the boy? Or get one of his parents? He didn't want to seem childish by getting his parents - Merlin knew he was old enough to handle everything on his own. He was Slytherin, after all, but what was he supposed to do for someone that was hurt?

A small groan met his ears as the boy near his feet shifted slightly, his forehead creased in pain. Severus stared as he turned his head and with undeniable embarrassment, he blushed.

The boy in front of him had to be one of the most beautiful he'd ever seen - with his porcelain skin, full lips, and long dark lashes. His hair was a silky black, darker than even Severus' which was splayed out against the ground and around his face. He had never admitted his sexual preferences at Hogwarts to anyone, but he was sure that a few of his Housemates knew of his liking of boys more than girls.

He saw the small black lip-ring on his lower lip, and the many rings in his ears. He looked like one of those people he'd seen on the muggle streets, usually wearing black and associated with what they called 'the devil'.

Maybe he was a muggle - but what would he be doing all the way out there, near his house?

Severus knelt down, still staring at the boy. He was at a loss of what to do, still. He noted that the boy was shorter than him, even as he was laying down. He was slightly muscular in his upper body, but not overly so. If anything, it looked as if he'd lost weight, since some proportions of his body didn't match the rest.

Sighing slightly and rubbing at his temples, Severus stood again, and was about to start pacing, completely unaware of what danger the boy might be in. It wasn't that he really cared - he just couldn't let someone die, especially if he could do something about it.

He knew all about near-death experiences, thanks.

Before he had taken a few laps around the boy, he felt something grab a hold of his pants leg. Startled, he jumped back, only to realize that the mysterious stranger had woken up and was reaching towards him.

Severus stared at the boy's face again - or, rather his eyes. They were the most startling color of green he'd ever seen. They would rival even Gryffindors' Head Girls eye color. But it was more nerve wreaking to see the boys, because the color was of something he could never forget - the killing curse known as Avada Kedavra.

"Help," the boy rasped out tiredly.

The Slytherin felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. That single plea made him feel as if he'd been placed in a tough situation.

"Please…"

Unsure, Severus knelt down again. "Who are you?"

"H-Harry," he said, his voice slightly strained. His voice was beautiful, even when sounding in pain. The Slytherin shook his head in annoyance. He couldn't let himself think about that stuff.

Severus paused and tried to think rationally. This boy needed help - whether his or someone else's, he needed it.

"How badly are you hurt?" he asked slowly and awkwardly. It wasn't every day that he tried to take care of someone.

A small, shaky laugh met his ears. He stared, slightly suspicious, slightly surprised. "I daresay, what's so funny?" he asked dryly.

"You… you look like someone I know," he said with a bit of amusement, even as his face twisted with pain.

How could this boy - Harry - say something like that when his life was in danger? He reminded him of some Gryffindor. Reckless.

"How badly are you hurt?" he repeated, just as dryly as the first time.

Harry tried to sit up, and to Severus' great amusement, the boy blushed brightly when he realized that his clothes were half ripped off.

But his amusement faded when the boy's face paled just as fast as it colored and he wrenched himself to the side and vomited. He had obviously realized something, by the look he had had on his face.

Severus went to stand next to him, wondering how he could comfort someone. He'd never done it before, and had never had the desire to do so. But this stranger had an odd effect on him. It was as if he needed to help him, or something against his will would happen.

"Are you alright?" He asked awkwardly, his voice thick with annoyance at himself. If the boy noticed it, he didn't address it.

Instead, he shook his head in a negative answer. Severus felt a bit stupid now, and unsure. Maybe he was just making things worse. Maybe he should just leave, letting the boy handle himself.

As if hearing his thoughts, Harry reached out to the side, grasping firmly onto the lower hem of Severus' shirt.

"Don't leave me here," he rasped out again, but only because his throat was sore from the acrid bile.

Sighing unsurely, Severus rubbed at his temples. He next spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't know how to help you."

"You don't have to. Just don't leave me here."

He stared. How could the boy say that Severus didn't need to help him? He was obviously hurt, and tired. He had to need some help.

"So you'd rather die?" Severus asked, his voice much colder than he'd wanted it to be. He just couldn't understand this boy.

"That might be a good alternative," the other boy mused slightly, a half smile on his face as he wiped awkwardly at his lips with his arm. He didn't look at Severus. "It wouldn't be the first time I've wished for that. Hell, it might be better if I did."

"How... intriguing." Severus spoke dryly, eyeing the boy. His face was now a greenish shade and his voice was slightly shaky.

Harry shook his head slowly and moved to get up, but just shifting himself to his knees left him winded. Severus couldn't help but smirk. He did need help.

Severus stiffly kneeled down again and snaked one arm around the boys back, gingerly avoiding the darkened area so that he could hold him up somewhat. Harry sent him a grateful look and was able to stand the rest of the way on his own. As embarrassed as he was with himself for helping someone so obviously, he couldn't find any alternative.

He realized that it was going to be a bit of a problem getting this stranger into his house without his parents seeing him. But it was worth a try, right?

Shaking his head slightly to himself, Severus started walking with Harry limping next to him.

By the time they had gotten to the back door of Severus' small house, Harry was completely out of breath. He hid it well, but the Slytherin was completely aware of his chest rising and falling raggedly and quickly. He was surprised by how quiet his breathing was though; but the main giveaway of it all was how his eyes were clenched shut tightly.

Severus stared for a second before turning the knob to the back door slowly. He poked his head inside for a few seconds and saw that no one was in the kitchen. Breathing in a sigh of relief, he kicked it open quietly and awkwardly led himself and Harry into the dimly lit room.

Before Severus could lead the other boy out into the hall towards his room though, more yelling picked up from the room over - and it was coming closer.

"Bugger," Severus snarled. He didn't want his parents walking in and seeing the green-eyed stranger. Especially if they were still fighting.

"You filthy wench," he could hear his father cursing his mother.

She shrieked back at him, but her words were hardly audible over her sobbing. Severus' face became a mask of nothing. He knew what he had done to her. It wouldn't be the first time he'd beat her into tears.

Before he could think or do anything further, a tall figure of a man came into view from the side door. He grimaced when he spotted Severus and Harry.

Severus froze. He knew that his father wouldn't take too well to strangers in his house. Especially if they associated with Severus himself. He felt his throat go dry and his face became defiant.

He wouldn't let his father kick Harry out before he could get help. He'd make sure to that.

Even if it caused him to face the wrath of his father - he was willing to do it; just for that one boy.

A/N: I hope you like this, Sara! I'm taking care to revise it well.