Overall Rating: R/NC-17
Disclaimer: J.K owns them, i'm just the baby-sitter.
Full summary: Can a potion ingredient really be the solution to Harry's biggest problem? At least that is what the boy believes, and he doesn't understand why Snape is so opposed to the idea. Beside them being rare and guarded by enormous magical beasts, what other secrets do the Lonely Herbs keep?

Lonely Herbs for Lonely Hearts


- Chapter one -

Harry thrashed and kicked at the invisible heat covering him. The enormous weight on his chest was crashing his lungs, making it hard to breathe... to speak... to scream!

But screams he heard. They were certainly not his own since the voice was too deep, probably that of an adult. They were deafening, anguish, and the more he fought for air, the stronger the screams became. The more he kicked, the more familiar that roaring voice got.

"No! Professor, please!"

"Oh do wake up, Potter!" the man said and, taking a hold of Harry's shoulders, shook the boy to consciousness.

Harry's eyes shot open. He stared into Snape's sweaty face and when the man didn't stop shaking him, he cleared his throat and tried to speak.

"Sir? Sir-I'm-a-wake-you-can-stop-sha-king-me-now."

Suddenly, the professor's movement came to a halt and his hands let go of the boy, dropping him none to gently back on the bed. Not sparing him another glance, Severus wiped his hands on the white robe he wore, a look of mild disgust on his face.

"I was making sure you weren't dead," the potion master said, and lifted both palms to his face. Harry, still feverish from his dream, watched Snape's face contort even more as he sniffed his hands.

"Do I really smell that bad?" he asked, more himself than Snape. God forbid if he tried to start a conversation with the bastard. But apparently Severus was in a good mood today, at least good enough to throw some nasty, yet perfectly masked, remarks at the boy.

"Your odor reminds me of one of the potion ingredients I haven't used for years, and with good reason," Snape replied nonchalantly, while unstoppering a vial and pouring a generous amount of a certain red liquid into his palm.

Harry snorted at his words. "A very poetic way to say I stink, don't you think so?"

"Professor," Snape added and Harry couldn't help rolling his eyes.

"Yes,professor," he repeated, biting out each syllable as if it was not 'professor' he was saying, but 'arsehole'. At times like these Harry doubted Dumbledore's last night reasoning was correct. At other times he just doubted the existence of the old-man's reason in general.

Feeling another headache creep up, Harry closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to the cursed day when Dumbledore started to doubt Poppy's abilities in the health field, and started trusting Snape's. And worse of all – Harry encouraged him.

- A bit more than 24 hours earlier -

"Ron, 'Mione, we should leave before midday. Let's get ready if we want to survive this little trip," Harry whispered across the table. At Hogwarts, breakfast only started, but Harry was ready to leave the table the moment he sat down.

Yesterday, Ron and Hermione offered to help him find the Lonely Herbs, a plant so rare that even some of the greatest potions masters haven't had the opportunity to see it, not to mention smell it.

During Potions class, Snape explained with the usual bitterness to his tone that the smell of that plant had the ability to increase one's magical knowledge tenfold, meaning that even vanquishing the Dark Lord will prove to be a piece of cake.

But Snape made sure to crash everyone's hopes to finding that plant and using it. 'Not only is it impossibly rare,' he had said, 'but if one does manage to find it, he will meet his doom when facing the thousands of black dragons guarding it.'

But Harry was sure that thousands of dragons couldn't be worse than one megalomaniac Dark Lord. They trust me to kill one of the most powerful wizards alive, but they doubt I will be able to get past few lizards? You have got to be kidding me...

Proving that he does possess some intellect, Harry voiced his plans only at the end of the class, when Professor Snape was out of hearing range, and only to his two best friends. But Snape wasn't called a spy for nothing.

So now, at breakfast, he was watching Harry and his friends very carefully. When he saw them nodding in unison and starting to get up, he cleared his throat and called across the table.

"Mister Potter," he said in his authoritative tone. The hall's activities came to a halt, Harry cringed, Ron paled and Hermione just sighed. Snape couldn't help but smile inwardly at their reactions. Seeing that he was still facing Harry's back, he turned his hawk-like gaze to Hermione.

"I never doubted the absence of 'politeness and table manners' in Potter's vocabulary but you, miss Granger, managed to surprise me."

The look of utter disappointment passed on the girl's face, but wisely, she kept silent.

"Do sit back down, all three of you," Snape went on, his tone taking an angry edge, " Miss Granger, Mister Weasly, you are to stay within Hogwarts walls until the winter holidays next week, just like every other student."

Abruptly, Harry turned to stare at him with disbelief. His eyes were screaming 'how can you do this to me!?'.

"I know very well what your plans are for tonight, and even though Hogwarts rules may, on some occasions, disregard young Potter here," he hissed, throwing a knowing glare in Harry's direction, "that does not necessarily mean that his band is included as well."

Harry was almost shaking with rage. He had no idea how Snape found out about tonight, but he was not going to just stay put and nod dumbly as his Professor ruined what could be his only chance to get rid of Voldemort.

"You can't do that," Harry called from his seat, "you have no right!"

Snape's brows shot up at Harry's words.

"Do I not?" he asked with bewilderment. "Do I not have the right to protect the children who, very much like yourself, are my students and are about to go on a suicide mission?"

"They are sixteen, for God's sake! They're not even virgins anymore! Professor, they are all but children."

Harry was too lost in his speech to notice Ron and Hermione blush deeply and stare daggers at him.

Feeling slightly amused, Snape replied.

"Perhaps sex is no longer a mystery to them, but death definitely is," he said and the intact of breath at his left reminded him that they were in the main hall and not in the confinement of his classroom.

Trying to make this conversation less personal, Snape went for his usual technique – hurt Potter, leave the rest out of it.

"You see, Mister Potter, not everyone have had their parents killed by the Dark Lord and not one of these students goes by the name of The Boy Who Lived."

Harry clenched his fist in his lap as his nickname was spat with evident disgust.

"Unlike you, these students still preserve some kind of innocence and lucidity, your friends included. If you are desperate enough to search for the invisible easy way out of your problems, instead of learning slowly to face them, I believe you are on your own this time."

There was a heavy tension in the air once Snape was done with his speech. He himself had a hard time breathing, but still he didn't break eye contact with the boy. He could feel everyone's gaze on him. Even his own Slytherins were bewildered.

Replaying Snape's words in his head, Harry felt anger overtake him. Why couldn't Snape understand that he was doing it for a good cause? Why couldn't he see that he was doing it not only to better sleep at night himself, but also for the others? For him!

Feeling the last of his control slip, he briskly stood up, sending the chair crashing to the floor.

"The last time I checked Voldemort wasn't my problem alone!" Harry screamed in Snape's direction, "I never asked for the damn scar on my forehead and I never asked to be the awaited savior of the Wizarding World! But I did wish for dreamless sleeps, for quite days without the constant fear that the bastard will surface from out of nowhere and attack. And if that damn plant will help me have those, then I will find it! Alone if I must!"

Heaving for air, the boy looked around him once and all but ran out of the Hall.

Since that scene during breakfast, no one had seen him all day long. Ron and Hermione told Dumbledore they saw him take the broom, but that was right after breakfast.

"He will be back, Albus," Snape assured, seeing the worried look on Dumbledore's face. He himself wasn't convinced by that statement so he added, "I'll find him."

With those words Severus left the headmaster's office. Perhaps he overdid it this time with Potter, but the sheer egoism and stupidity of that boy still angered him. As he was walking back to the dungeons, an odd noise at the end of the hall attracted his attention. His spy instincts kicking in, Snape approached as silently as only he could master and noticed that the noise was coming from a classroom, worse – his own classroom. I will fry the little rat that's sniffing around in my classroom at these hours! He promised to himself and threw open the door.

Harry was kneeling in front of a cupboard, barely conscious, trying to unstopper a vial that was far too heavy for him to lift in his condition. He wasn't covered with bruises, to Snape's surprise, but the boy had an odd green shade to his face. He looked tired and very, very ill.

As the vial slipped from Harry's hands, Snape reacted quickly – one wingardium leviosa later, the barely conscious boy and the vial were safely floating in the air.

"Oh you found Harry! Wonderful!"

Dumbledore's cheerful voice made Severus jump. As sneaky and perceptive as always, Albus, he thought and sighing, lay the boy on a very green sofa that he kept solely for guests.

Poppy came in with Albus, and after a quick check-up she announced that the boy had no injuries and was perfectly fine. Severus, on the other hand, saw a very pale green-faced boy almost merging with the very sickeningly green sofa he was laying on.

"He can't be 'perfectly fine', Albus. Just look at him. He's obviously ill, and I am almost certain he knows so himself, since he was trying to gulp down one of my strongest healing potions only mere moments ago. I think I should keep him here for a week or so, to make sure he won't unexpectedly die on us."

Snape knew he was exaggerating, but Harry nodded reluctantly. The boy's hate for Mediwizards must have reached an unimaginable level if he is willing to stay in the Dungeons instead of going for another quick check-up in the Hospital Wing. You are full of surprises, Harry Potter.

Dumbledore's lips stretched in a wrinkly smile as he put his equally wrinkly hand on Severus' shoulder and spoke.

"Very well! If you see yourself more fit to take care of young Harry Potter, I am sure Poppy will understand."

The witch had an all but understanding look on her face, but she just huffed for a moment or two and left the dungeons, Dumbledore not far behind her.

Harry watched the scene semi-consciously, and judging by the twinkle in Albus' eyes, he knew he just made one of the worst decisions of his life. Berating himself inwardly, Harry slipped into unconsciousness.

TBC...