Sorry for the sudden break from society. The past fews months... years have been really hard, so I'm basically starting again. I'm planning on writing a series of oneshots purely for the love of writing.
So on with the story...
Severus Snape stalked through the maze of corridors in the dungeons of Hogwarts. His robes billowing behind him, he glared at the few he met on his patrols. Those few were prefects, teachers, and the occasional ghost. Everyone else was in bed, for it was ten minutes after curfew.
Snape's thoughts wandered as he did. He remembered the last few weeks.
The students entered the hall, there faces jubilant as they saw friends they had not seen all summer. All faces, but that of Harry Potter.
From his vantage point at the head table, Snape saw the boy pick at his food, pushing it around his plate, attempting to look captivated so to not attract attention from his fellow classmates. Granger, who was sitting to Potter's right, nudged him gently with her elbow, trying to involve him in the conversation she was having with the youngest Weasley boy. Harry grinned, grimaced more like it, and gave a quick answer that seemed to answer Granger's question. Potter turned back to his plate, his shoulders heaving with a sigh, eyes scanning the room.
Those emerald eyes, so like Lily's...
No, he wouldn't think about her. Snape shook his head, not unlike a dog would to get rid of excess water, but that didn't help.
Lily skipped ahead on the path. It was their first Hogsmeade weekend ever and she was thrilled.
"Sev, hurry up! I want to get there before everything fills up." Lily shouted back, her eyes lit with excitement. Severus smiled back, picking up his pace. Satisfied, Lily spun arounded, her red locks flying around
her, the sun shining on her face.
A pang of sorrow and guilt clutched Snape's heart as he remembered the last time he had seen that red hair.
He approached the coffin slowly, not sure if he wanted to see the woman placed inside. There she was. In a green dress, the exact shade of her eyes, lay Lily. Her hand were clasped over her stomach and her eyes closed gently.
Snape reached an unfamiliar hand out. As a known Death Eater, he would not have been a welcome guest to the wake, so he had summoned a hair from a random Muggle on the streets of London and used Polyjuice Potion to change his appearance. The hand stopped ten centimeter from the cold hand in the coffin.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't touch her again. He had caused her death. It was his fault. All his fault...
Snape was wretched from his thoughts by a sob echoing through the halls. Pulling out his wand, he slunk around the nearest corner, following the sound. He was led to a supply closet near the Potions classroom.
Pulling the door open slowing, not wanting to scare the student inside, Snape lit his wand. It emitted a soft light, enough to reveal the person inside.
Snape recognized him immediately; there was no way he could be mistaken, no one had black, messy hair like Potter did. Potter's knees were curled up to his chest, one arms wrapped around his legs and the other, grasped his hair in useless attempt to try to stem the flow of sobs issuing from the tightly closed mouth pressed against the grey fabric of the school sweater.
Noticing someone there, Harry's eyes opened. Bright with tears, they quivered before hardening.
"Professor, I didn't..."
"Didn't realize that it was past curfew? Or didn't realize that you were curled into a ball in a closet?" Snape asked, though without his normal snide tone. He opened the door the rest of the way, sending a globe of light to hang above his head and stowing his wand back in its holster on the inside of his arm.
"That it was past curfew," the boy... Harry... answered hesitantly, noticing the lack of venom in his teacher's voice. "I was just walking back from Potions and..."
"And what?" Snape urged gently.
Harry turned away, his ears turning red in... embarrassment? "Nothing."
"Potter, tell me. Before I am forced to take points."
"I was just reminded..."
"Reminded of what?"
"WHAT DO YOU CARE?" Snape jumped at the sudden outpouring of emotion. "DO YOU CARE THAT I HAD TO WATCH CEDRIC DIE? DOES ANYONE CARE THAT I HAD TO WATCH THE MAN WHO KILLED MY PARENTS COME BACK TO LIFE?" Harry pushed a hand back against the cold stone wall behind him, a single tear running down the side of his face. "Did none of you think that maybe, I needed help?" he whispered, voice breaking at the end of his tirade.
Suddenly it made sense. The dead eyes. The slumped shoulders. The aloofness.
"Potter... Harry," Snape stopped. That had been the first time he had ever called the boy by his first name. Harry noticed as well. His head jerked and hand twitched.
Slowly, as one would approach a wounded animal, Snape knelt down to the boys level and placed a long, pale hand on his shoulder.
"Did none of you think that maybe, I needed help?" Harry whispered again, his shoulders quivering. He lifted a hand, to his eyes, trying to stem the steady stream of tear that flowed from them, but it was hopeless. The tears continued and Snape, not knowing what to do, did the one thing that he could think of.
He pulled Harry Potter, the son of his childhood enemy, into his arms and let the boy sob. Hary clutched his robes as if holding on for dear life, his terribly thin frame shaking as the months worth of anguish was released into his professor's shoulder.
Snape didn't say a work. Not one word. What would he say? Would he remind the boy of whose robes he was staining with tears? No, the boy needed this. Harry needed this.
He just rocked the boy gently, rubbing circles over his back. Slowly but surely, the quivering and shaking slowed and stopped, the breathing becoming deep and regular. Looking down, Snape realized that the fifteen year old had fallen asleep in his arms.
Picking the boy up, Snape realized just how thin he was. Surely the Quidditch training had built up some muscle on the thin frame? Making a personal note to check on the boy's eating habits, the professor carried him to the Hospital Wing, thankfully not running into anyone on the way.
Reaching the oak doors, Snape nudged them open with his toe, and backing into the large room, maneuvered the student through the dorrway. Madam Pomfrey was at a desk at the end of the row of beds, signing a large stack of papers. She turned at the sound of the door and, seeing one of her former charges holding one of her current ones, hustled to the door and gestured to a bed.
Snape lowered Harry onto the linen sheets, careful not to wake the boy.
"Severus, what happened?" Pomfrey asked as she pulled out her wand and waved it over the boy.
"An emotional breakdown." He whispered simply. "I think someone needs to keep an eye on this one," he murmered to himself.
With one last look and ignoring the whispered questions from the nurse, he slunk out of the wing, pulling his robes around him. He walked out, reminded of the eyes glaring up at him.
The same eyes that had, so many years ago, looked back, urging him to hurry up. Eyes that he had loved.
Thank you for reading. Please review and tell me if I have lost my touch. I don't plan on continuing the story, but maybe with some motivation, I will write another chapter.
Thank you again.
Defying Gravity
"Don't wish. Don't start."