HP/SS pairing, don't like, don't read. Disclaimer: Own not,
profit not, sue not.
If this bares any resemblance to your or someone else's story, it was not intentional and I'm very sorry it's not very original.
Chapter 1 The Boy Who Merely Existed
Harry sat slowly packing up the rest of his potions equipment, he stared straight ahead seeing nothing, Ron and Hermione had both left with the others two minutes since, making their hasty retreat, not wanting to hang around their potions master any longer than necessary. He made everyone feel uncomfortable except Harry, because Harry no longer really felt anything, not the fearful and furtive stares from his friends, not even the one focussed on him from the front of the classroom.
"What do you want, Potter?" The voice was black velvet, but more exasperated than infused with it's usual biting sarcasm. "I'm afraid Professor Snape that I do not quite understand your question." Harry stood to put away his parchment, quill and ink. Severus regarded his student's blank expression, moving across the classroom in front of the boy who, now having registered his teachers stare was finding the ingredients of his green ink of intense interest. Deciding that Potter was being sincere and not merely difficult as a method of making his day even worse, the teacher elaborated.
"What is it that you aspire to do or have, you have to have some thing to live for, that's who you are, the boy who lived, not the boy who merely existed! I'm tired of seeing you walk around empty eyed or, in those occasional moments when you still seem to have any feeling left, radiating self loathing."Severus lifted Potter's arms, "And by the way," his voice was now no more than a silken whisper, eyes tracing each scar that suddenly broke the smooth perfection of Potter's skin. "Your glamour charms are wearing off." Harry cursed him self, he hadn't renewed the spell in days and he'd rolled back his sleeves as they'd had a prac-test that class.
The mask dropped for a second, something akin to emotion flitted across Harry's face, yes, it was definitely there, shame. Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything. He'd fallen down the stairs or even that it had just been a faze, and he didn't do it anymore, but under Snape's searing gaze he found it impossible to lie to the man. So Harry closed his mouth soundlessly and once again, the ink. The way the light shone through it giving it the brilliance of a Slytherin banner, it was made with charmed colours no. 260 and 493 and the proportion of mermaid ink to water was exactly five to two.
"Harry," His head shot up and he was once again caught up in that stare not unkind but uncomfortably intense, and there was something else, it had been in the tone of Snape's voice that time as well. Worry, Snape was worried about him and he'd called him by his first name.* I must be a pretty pathetic specimen, if one of my archrivals is worried about me, pitying me*.
"I'm fine, thankyou Professor." He said softly, might as well be polite, they were after all on the same side and he didn't have the energy for a fight, he didn't even have the energy for a conversation with someone who maybe didn't hate him as much as he had originally thought.
'I didn't ask you how you were Mister Potter, however for what it's worth I'm glad to hear it, if it's true." Harry opened his mouth to point out that though the Professor hadn't asked out right he'd only just come short of hand signing it or going into some form of ridiculous mime routine, however he stopped himself just in time. This newfound lack of hatred was something he didn't want disturb, as aforementioned he didn't have enough energy to fight.
"Perhaps Mister Potter, you should conclude your packing up. Though I dare say it would do wonders for my reputation to seem as though I had found an excuse to give you detention as you packed up after such an uneventful class." It had been uneventful, even Neville had some how (with a lot of help from Hermione) completed the task with not so much as one explosion. "Come along Mr. Potter, or you'll miss lunch and that wouldn't be good would it. You have your health and figure to look after. Wouldn't want to be too sick to play quidditch now would we, not to mention disappointing all your little fan girls and boys."
"No Sir." Was his quiet response and together they made their way to the great hall, not on purpose but simply because they were making their way to the same place. Well that's what Harry told himself anyway, he'd usually have put his stuff up in his dorm first, but as he told himself later, he was running late. *When did you start caring about punctuality/* a very Snape like voice asked in the back of his mind, dripping with the expected and lately missing sarcasm usually associated with remarks made by the Potions Master.
Severus knew a hundred different ways to get to the great hall, the one he was currently following Har.Potter on was particularly meandering. As he shortened his strides so as to keep level with his student he convinced his- self that he was merely doing this to make sure Harry actually went and ate something. He could walk around to the teacher's entrance later. He would have done this with any other student in the same situation.
When Severus was being absolutely honest with himself he admitted he did treat Harry differently, despite his attempts not to. In the first potions class his little pop quiz had been designed to cut down to size the incredibly inflated ego of a spoilt brat who had spent the last eleven years of his life being told that he had saved the world. He hadn't realised that Harry had grown up with his muggle relatives and had been informed of his unusual early childhood less than a month later. Upon discovering this he considered even apologising but he had a reputation to keep up and decided against it. Now that he was back spying he could not risk giving the slightest indication he cared whether or not the foolish boy lived or died, let alone whether or not he was happy.
Finally they came to the double doors at the main entrance to the great hall, Harry gave a formal nod, face carefully made void of expression. "Harry,"(there was that name again) "If the fact that almost all those who surround you, students and teachers alike, care about you isn't enough to stop you doing this," He gestured to Harry's arms, now carefully concealed under his robes "then think about this, if you continue people will find out eventually, it will go around the school like wild fire, don't give Malfoy the satisfaction." A smile ghosted across the boy's features, and just for a moment the lights were back in his eyes. Severus's breath hitched, such openness and innocence. Despite all that had happened Harry still smiled the same way he had when he first arrived at the school, Severus promised himself he would make the boy smile like that again. The smile was gone in a second, but it was firmly imprinted in his mind.
"Is there anything else Professor?" The mask was up again; an expert of this particular art Severus admired the boy's handy work, very good, too good. The thought saddened him. "Not really, just, well, eat something today Potter, Ok?" *Oh yes Severus that was eloquent*, he felt his IQ drop four points bringing him to just under the number for genius, *damn*.
Harry stepped through the door Snape had opened for him and walked quickly to the Gryffindor table, thinking about how nice it was to be called by his last name in such a, dare he say friendly, no he did not dare, um . a lacking in spite and nasty intent way. It was almost as good as being called by his first name when the other person didn't know they were doing it. Had Snape bee in full control of him self and what he was feeling, concern, pity, whatever, he would never have allowed himself to call him Harry, well not out loud, maybe in his mind. *Severus*, Harry rolled the thought of the name around in his head and decided he liked it, he'd just have to be careful not to say it out loud or he would get some very strange looks, and, should the said man be present a couple of months detention scrubbing burnt cauldrons.
He sighed and Hermione looked up with what should have by now become a very familiar look of concern written across her face. At least it would have been familiar had he ever been living in the present long enough to notice. "Harry, is there something the matter?" It came out louder than he thought was normal for Hermione, who though he did not know it had adjusted to Harry's mind wondering and often implemented a high volume when she wanted his attention. "Don't worry 'Mione, it's nothing."
Harry continued not eating and avoiding conversation, distracted by the mind-boggling truth now facing him. Sna- Severus did not hate him, and for some reason he realised he was happy about this. Harry had never liked being the object of hatred, and he understood that what made Severus's hatred so painful was that it was- had been (if it ever had existed) nothing to do with him. Maybe to do with his father, or just because he was the bot who lived, but nothing to do with the boy he had grown up to be, just Harry.
Severus's arrival in the hall a few minutes later went unobserved by most. Only Harry and Dumbledore were actively looking out for his appearance. It was by chance that Hermione followed Harry's quick nervous look up at the staff table before looking away just as fast. He had been looking at Snape, but why? She pondered this as she ate noting that Harry was staring off in to the distance instead of using lunchtime for its allocated purpose. She also, more felt, than saw an intent gaze coming from the staff table, directed just passed her to her raven haired friend who at that moment was finding the way the torches attached to the walls were flickering simply intriguing.
If this bares any resemblance to your or someone else's story, it was not intentional and I'm very sorry it's not very original.
Chapter 1 The Boy Who Merely Existed
Harry sat slowly packing up the rest of his potions equipment, he stared straight ahead seeing nothing, Ron and Hermione had both left with the others two minutes since, making their hasty retreat, not wanting to hang around their potions master any longer than necessary. He made everyone feel uncomfortable except Harry, because Harry no longer really felt anything, not the fearful and furtive stares from his friends, not even the one focussed on him from the front of the classroom.
"What do you want, Potter?" The voice was black velvet, but more exasperated than infused with it's usual biting sarcasm. "I'm afraid Professor Snape that I do not quite understand your question." Harry stood to put away his parchment, quill and ink. Severus regarded his student's blank expression, moving across the classroom in front of the boy who, now having registered his teachers stare was finding the ingredients of his green ink of intense interest. Deciding that Potter was being sincere and not merely difficult as a method of making his day even worse, the teacher elaborated.
"What is it that you aspire to do or have, you have to have some thing to live for, that's who you are, the boy who lived, not the boy who merely existed! I'm tired of seeing you walk around empty eyed or, in those occasional moments when you still seem to have any feeling left, radiating self loathing."Severus lifted Potter's arms, "And by the way," his voice was now no more than a silken whisper, eyes tracing each scar that suddenly broke the smooth perfection of Potter's skin. "Your glamour charms are wearing off." Harry cursed him self, he hadn't renewed the spell in days and he'd rolled back his sleeves as they'd had a prac-test that class.
The mask dropped for a second, something akin to emotion flitted across Harry's face, yes, it was definitely there, shame. Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything. He'd fallen down the stairs or even that it had just been a faze, and he didn't do it anymore, but under Snape's searing gaze he found it impossible to lie to the man. So Harry closed his mouth soundlessly and once again, the ink. The way the light shone through it giving it the brilliance of a Slytherin banner, it was made with charmed colours no. 260 and 493 and the proportion of mermaid ink to water was exactly five to two.
"Harry," His head shot up and he was once again caught up in that stare not unkind but uncomfortably intense, and there was something else, it had been in the tone of Snape's voice that time as well. Worry, Snape was worried about him and he'd called him by his first name.* I must be a pretty pathetic specimen, if one of my archrivals is worried about me, pitying me*.
"I'm fine, thankyou Professor." He said softly, might as well be polite, they were after all on the same side and he didn't have the energy for a fight, he didn't even have the energy for a conversation with someone who maybe didn't hate him as much as he had originally thought.
'I didn't ask you how you were Mister Potter, however for what it's worth I'm glad to hear it, if it's true." Harry opened his mouth to point out that though the Professor hadn't asked out right he'd only just come short of hand signing it or going into some form of ridiculous mime routine, however he stopped himself just in time. This newfound lack of hatred was something he didn't want disturb, as aforementioned he didn't have enough energy to fight.
"Perhaps Mister Potter, you should conclude your packing up. Though I dare say it would do wonders for my reputation to seem as though I had found an excuse to give you detention as you packed up after such an uneventful class." It had been uneventful, even Neville had some how (with a lot of help from Hermione) completed the task with not so much as one explosion. "Come along Mr. Potter, or you'll miss lunch and that wouldn't be good would it. You have your health and figure to look after. Wouldn't want to be too sick to play quidditch now would we, not to mention disappointing all your little fan girls and boys."
"No Sir." Was his quiet response and together they made their way to the great hall, not on purpose but simply because they were making their way to the same place. Well that's what Harry told himself anyway, he'd usually have put his stuff up in his dorm first, but as he told himself later, he was running late. *When did you start caring about punctuality/* a very Snape like voice asked in the back of his mind, dripping with the expected and lately missing sarcasm usually associated with remarks made by the Potions Master.
Severus knew a hundred different ways to get to the great hall, the one he was currently following Har.Potter on was particularly meandering. As he shortened his strides so as to keep level with his student he convinced his- self that he was merely doing this to make sure Harry actually went and ate something. He could walk around to the teacher's entrance later. He would have done this with any other student in the same situation.
When Severus was being absolutely honest with himself he admitted he did treat Harry differently, despite his attempts not to. In the first potions class his little pop quiz had been designed to cut down to size the incredibly inflated ego of a spoilt brat who had spent the last eleven years of his life being told that he had saved the world. He hadn't realised that Harry had grown up with his muggle relatives and had been informed of his unusual early childhood less than a month later. Upon discovering this he considered even apologising but he had a reputation to keep up and decided against it. Now that he was back spying he could not risk giving the slightest indication he cared whether or not the foolish boy lived or died, let alone whether or not he was happy.
Finally they came to the double doors at the main entrance to the great hall, Harry gave a formal nod, face carefully made void of expression. "Harry,"(there was that name again) "If the fact that almost all those who surround you, students and teachers alike, care about you isn't enough to stop you doing this," He gestured to Harry's arms, now carefully concealed under his robes "then think about this, if you continue people will find out eventually, it will go around the school like wild fire, don't give Malfoy the satisfaction." A smile ghosted across the boy's features, and just for a moment the lights were back in his eyes. Severus's breath hitched, such openness and innocence. Despite all that had happened Harry still smiled the same way he had when he first arrived at the school, Severus promised himself he would make the boy smile like that again. The smile was gone in a second, but it was firmly imprinted in his mind.
"Is there anything else Professor?" The mask was up again; an expert of this particular art Severus admired the boy's handy work, very good, too good. The thought saddened him. "Not really, just, well, eat something today Potter, Ok?" *Oh yes Severus that was eloquent*, he felt his IQ drop four points bringing him to just under the number for genius, *damn*.
Harry stepped through the door Snape had opened for him and walked quickly to the Gryffindor table, thinking about how nice it was to be called by his last name in such a, dare he say friendly, no he did not dare, um . a lacking in spite and nasty intent way. It was almost as good as being called by his first name when the other person didn't know they were doing it. Had Snape bee in full control of him self and what he was feeling, concern, pity, whatever, he would never have allowed himself to call him Harry, well not out loud, maybe in his mind. *Severus*, Harry rolled the thought of the name around in his head and decided he liked it, he'd just have to be careful not to say it out loud or he would get some very strange looks, and, should the said man be present a couple of months detention scrubbing burnt cauldrons.
He sighed and Hermione looked up with what should have by now become a very familiar look of concern written across her face. At least it would have been familiar had he ever been living in the present long enough to notice. "Harry, is there something the matter?" It came out louder than he thought was normal for Hermione, who though he did not know it had adjusted to Harry's mind wondering and often implemented a high volume when she wanted his attention. "Don't worry 'Mione, it's nothing."
Harry continued not eating and avoiding conversation, distracted by the mind-boggling truth now facing him. Sna- Severus did not hate him, and for some reason he realised he was happy about this. Harry had never liked being the object of hatred, and he understood that what made Severus's hatred so painful was that it was- had been (if it ever had existed) nothing to do with him. Maybe to do with his father, or just because he was the bot who lived, but nothing to do with the boy he had grown up to be, just Harry.
Severus's arrival in the hall a few minutes later went unobserved by most. Only Harry and Dumbledore were actively looking out for his appearance. It was by chance that Hermione followed Harry's quick nervous look up at the staff table before looking away just as fast. He had been looking at Snape, but why? She pondered this as she ate noting that Harry was staring off in to the distance instead of using lunchtime for its allocated purpose. She also, more felt, than saw an intent gaze coming from the staff table, directed just passed her to her raven haired friend who at that moment was finding the way the torches attached to the walls were flickering simply intriguing.