Not Exactly a Rose Garden
Author: AnimagOread
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't make any money, am not affiliated with Warner Brothers, and deeply apologize to Ms. Rowling, as her characters are being exploited in my hands. Again, no money. (Although reviews always appreciated!)
Summary: When Snape has to take on an attempted-suicidal Harry, the views they have for each other will change and a darker side of Hogwarts will be revealed. WARNING: Depression, mental illness, sexuality, rape, etc. abound. Nothing too graphic, but this isn't gonna be seen in the 6th book if you know what I mean.
An authors note: Hello all! It's AnimagOread, the chica who brought you such nice fics as "Kings, Lovers, and Fairies" which is also Harry/Snape. However, beware that this fic is a lot darker than the rest, and the way Harry and Snape come to each other is a lot harder than being Puck and Oberon.
Please, if you can't deal with deep depression and drug-use, self- mutilation and homosexuality, rape, pain and mental illness, take time to see if you want to read this. I hope I've done a good job of revealing another humanity side of Harry and other characters.
I'd love any thoughts on this, criticism or not, but please enjoy it. People are like this, and this story has become a lot more personal to me. I hope you enjoy it.
-AO
-
Chapter One: Caught Beneath a Landslide
"Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball.
Someday you will find me,
caught beneath a landslide,
In a Champagne Supernova in the sky."
-Oasis, Champagne Supernova
-
1 "I don't want you doing it when I'm not there…"
Pale skin, so pale that his veins shone eerily through the cold layer. His wrist-bones garish and hard as they stuck out. The dingy mirror reflected his visage back at him, he was a fallen angel, glowing ethereally in the dim light of the attic. Even his eyes glowed strangely, the emerald fire.
"So what if Draco isn't here?" he muttered to himself, angry, out loud, staring at the vial he had downed that sat on the haphazard ledge. They had left him, he never came down much anymore, sneaking if his stomach rebelled at him down at midnight, but stealing away in the night to the meeting. He shivered slightly in the tight, worn black T-shirt he had grown accustomed to wearing, his legs shaking slightly in tight, dark pants.
The sun was setting outside the attic window, casting supernova shadows across the attic and slants over the dusty floor. None of the light made it to the corner where he stood, mirror dingy and sink stopped working ages ago. A sharp pain hit against his forehead and another burning sensation flew through his veins and he hunched into himself slightly.
He had grown thinner in the two weeks since leaving school, his shoulder blades shone through the sinewy muscles on his back, his ribs and pelvic bones jutted slightly and his skin grew paler. His hair, however, unlike most, wasn't falling out and appeared as shiny and think as ever. The pain ebbed away from him, and he shuddered.
A wave of sudden anger hit him and he grabbed the vial, throwing it against the wall as it shattered into a million pieces. Trembling with emotion and cold he exhaled slowly before pulling the sleek stone box from the shelf. With clumsy fingers it opened, revealing thick sticks of kohl eyeliner, needles and pins, two sleeping pills and a tiny razor blade. He pulled the kohl out and smudged thick lines of it around the undersides of his eyes and the corners, smearing it slightly with his forefingers. The mirror again showed his haunting visage and he stared into the box before looking on the ground and pulling a shard of glass. It glittered, a glamorous demon in the scant light and he overturned an arm, revealing scars among the blue- moon skin. Barely pressing it against the skin, he ran it across his arm in three swift strokes, three skinny snakes of deep red blood blossoming on his arm. He dropped the glass and fell forward onto the sink.
"Don't do it when I'm not there…" the voice taunted.
"Fuck," he growled and fell to the ground, amidst a quilt of glittering glass, spinning rays of light and slipped blissfully into utter dark.
-
"You've got to be joking."
"I'm afraid not, in fact, this is nothing but absolutely serious."
"But…Albus, you can't mean it."
"I absolutely do. I knew he'd always be safe with them, but he's not safe from himself. They couldn't care less to what happened to him."
"How-how exactly did it happen?"
"He was found in front of the mirror in the house. He was bleeding as well- ,"
"The boy almost bled to death?"
"No, it was an interaction in his system. If Arabella hadn't found him…his protectors didn't feel quite right about what was going on and she went over to check on him. None of them were home."
"Where is he now?"
"Hospital…he hasn't said a word, although he hasn't been awake much."
"But-why me? I mean, it's hardly safest and I don't realize what is so special about me. Send him with blasted Black or Lupin…"
"You're not thinking. Besides, it is safe. With the family out of the picture, Arabella can return to her normal living, besides I'll be right here, Artemisia and Rosmerta are terribly close by, and Lupin has access. But for now, he's with Sirius and it isn't exactly a good time for us to send him there."
"Well, let him live here-,"
"Severus. You're not thinking or choosing not to. If he is indeed in the condition I think he's in, you will be able to help him and understand him better than I can…I need you to do this. If it fails miserably, he can stay here until the school year."
"You'd better know what your doing…I hope your judgement is better than it was when you let him stay with those Muggles."
"Believe me, I'm regretting it now."
-
Severus Snape walked through the halls of the now empty Hogwarts. He could feel the echoes, reverberations, footsteps, swishing of robes, distant memories of only two weeks ago. Only two weeks ago. If he hadn't been so tired, he would've laughed. It had been two years after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, two years since he had been spying more often, two years after Harry Potter had survived Voldemort again and got through his 5th and 6th years.
The stone walls breathed emptiness and Snape felt it as he quickly made his way to the hospital wing. After the Tri-Wizard tournament, many of the Wizarding Families had taken their children out of school and Severus kept a more careful eye on Potter. He cursed himself now for not noticing anything before, but tried to bring the thought away from his mind. Did Weasely and Granger know as well? He wondered, did anyone even think of it?
Madame Pomfrey met him at the entrance, looking drawn and more strained than he had ever seen her. The woman had seen much in her many years, but perhaps seeing an almost dead Savior of the Wizarding World who had almost perished of his own accord had thrown her off guard.
"Professor Snape-,"
"Severus, Poppy," He cut her off quietly, "I told you to call me that in the summers. Can I see him?"
"Of course, Pro-," she corrected herself, voice anxious, "Severus. I know he's been awake for a few hours, I had the substances flushed from his system hours ago. He won't talk, won't eat-," She looked at the ground and handed him a clipboard, "Here."
Severus had never seen her this way, so worried, so unprofessional. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, she didn't seem to want to tell him anything, for fear she'd lose composure. He took the clipboard and gave her an uncharacteristic pat on the shoulder.
The clipboard was written in shaky hand but he could read it out and he almost dropped the thing.
"102 pounds?" He asked in a breath, astounded. The woman nodded slowly, and he continued. The drug interactions were there as well, Poppy had found he had taken an Acetaminophen Sleeping pill, a low dose of Draught of Living Death as well as an illegal potion, Champagne Supernova, which was considered a kind of drug in the wizarding world. Severus was surprised the boy wasn't braindead, or worse, killed. Staring at it with scrutiny, he assumed the boy hadn't been trying to kill himself. His blood pressure was dangerously low, accompanying the dangerously low weight. His mind swam and Poppy gave a loud sniffle as she gestured in. Giving her back the clipboard, he braced himself as he entered the bedrest area.
Harry was sitting up in bed, his face more pale than Snape had ever seen it, eyes accented by eyeliner and they were staring listlessly out the window. He looked smaller than ever, his crossed arms bony and blue, looking as if they would snap. Snape approached cautiously and Harry didn't move a muscle.
"Some predicament you've gotten yourself into this time, Potter," he said quietly, before he could stop himself and then immediately felt bad after the words left his lips. However, the boys face was a glacier, his mind somewhere else.
"I suppose you had no idea what you were doing," Snape continued, in a muttered tone. This was more than he had said to the boy in ages, "I am curious to see how you got all that though. As well as to know why…"
Still, the boy made no movement, Snape couldn't even tell if he was breathing. Irritation bit at him like a small insect and he moved closer to the bed. It was odd now, he mused in another part of his brain, that before he could loom before the boy and be as sinister as he wanted. The way Harry was acting now turned that tactic all around.
"Your little escapade has had a bit of an effect on everyone…slightly unsettling, your actions," he bit out, frustrated, "I don't know how I got involved." He tried to give his best glare to the boy but his face fell as-
Harry turned and looked at him, straight into his jet-black eyes, face blank, impassive, eyes deep and looking different than Snape had ever seen them. He blinked and then exhaled slowly, uncrossing his arms.
"Actually, Snape, I knew exactly what I was doing, and why. It's caused the more hidden part of the Wizarding World into a stir, and I wouldn't be surprised if Rita Skeeter burst in at this very moment. Dumbledore is dumbfounded, pardon the onomatopoeia, and however much against my will, and yours, I assume," his voice somewhat cold, but very matter of fact, which Snape found unsettling, "I still will be put into your care. Is that better?"
Snape felt slightly ashamed and more disturbed by the way Potter was saying these things, and for the first time ever, he lowered his eyes before Potter did.
-
Author: AnimagOread
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't make any money, am not affiliated with Warner Brothers, and deeply apologize to Ms. Rowling, as her characters are being exploited in my hands. Again, no money. (Although reviews always appreciated!)
Summary: When Snape has to take on an attempted-suicidal Harry, the views they have for each other will change and a darker side of Hogwarts will be revealed. WARNING: Depression, mental illness, sexuality, rape, etc. abound. Nothing too graphic, but this isn't gonna be seen in the 6th book if you know what I mean.
An authors note: Hello all! It's AnimagOread, the chica who brought you such nice fics as "Kings, Lovers, and Fairies" which is also Harry/Snape. However, beware that this fic is a lot darker than the rest, and the way Harry and Snape come to each other is a lot harder than being Puck and Oberon.
Please, if you can't deal with deep depression and drug-use, self- mutilation and homosexuality, rape, pain and mental illness, take time to see if you want to read this. I hope I've done a good job of revealing another humanity side of Harry and other characters.
I'd love any thoughts on this, criticism or not, but please enjoy it. People are like this, and this story has become a lot more personal to me. I hope you enjoy it.
-AO
-
Chapter One: Caught Beneath a Landslide
"Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannonball.
Someday you will find me,
caught beneath a landslide,
In a Champagne Supernova in the sky."
-Oasis, Champagne Supernova
-
1 "I don't want you doing it when I'm not there…"
Pale skin, so pale that his veins shone eerily through the cold layer. His wrist-bones garish and hard as they stuck out. The dingy mirror reflected his visage back at him, he was a fallen angel, glowing ethereally in the dim light of the attic. Even his eyes glowed strangely, the emerald fire.
"So what if Draco isn't here?" he muttered to himself, angry, out loud, staring at the vial he had downed that sat on the haphazard ledge. They had left him, he never came down much anymore, sneaking if his stomach rebelled at him down at midnight, but stealing away in the night to the meeting. He shivered slightly in the tight, worn black T-shirt he had grown accustomed to wearing, his legs shaking slightly in tight, dark pants.
The sun was setting outside the attic window, casting supernova shadows across the attic and slants over the dusty floor. None of the light made it to the corner where he stood, mirror dingy and sink stopped working ages ago. A sharp pain hit against his forehead and another burning sensation flew through his veins and he hunched into himself slightly.
He had grown thinner in the two weeks since leaving school, his shoulder blades shone through the sinewy muscles on his back, his ribs and pelvic bones jutted slightly and his skin grew paler. His hair, however, unlike most, wasn't falling out and appeared as shiny and think as ever. The pain ebbed away from him, and he shuddered.
A wave of sudden anger hit him and he grabbed the vial, throwing it against the wall as it shattered into a million pieces. Trembling with emotion and cold he exhaled slowly before pulling the sleek stone box from the shelf. With clumsy fingers it opened, revealing thick sticks of kohl eyeliner, needles and pins, two sleeping pills and a tiny razor blade. He pulled the kohl out and smudged thick lines of it around the undersides of his eyes and the corners, smearing it slightly with his forefingers. The mirror again showed his haunting visage and he stared into the box before looking on the ground and pulling a shard of glass. It glittered, a glamorous demon in the scant light and he overturned an arm, revealing scars among the blue- moon skin. Barely pressing it against the skin, he ran it across his arm in three swift strokes, three skinny snakes of deep red blood blossoming on his arm. He dropped the glass and fell forward onto the sink.
"Don't do it when I'm not there…" the voice taunted.
"Fuck," he growled and fell to the ground, amidst a quilt of glittering glass, spinning rays of light and slipped blissfully into utter dark.
-
"You've got to be joking."
"I'm afraid not, in fact, this is nothing but absolutely serious."
"But…Albus, you can't mean it."
"I absolutely do. I knew he'd always be safe with them, but he's not safe from himself. They couldn't care less to what happened to him."
"How-how exactly did it happen?"
"He was found in front of the mirror in the house. He was bleeding as well- ,"
"The boy almost bled to death?"
"No, it was an interaction in his system. If Arabella hadn't found him…his protectors didn't feel quite right about what was going on and she went over to check on him. None of them were home."
"Where is he now?"
"Hospital…he hasn't said a word, although he hasn't been awake much."
"But-why me? I mean, it's hardly safest and I don't realize what is so special about me. Send him with blasted Black or Lupin…"
"You're not thinking. Besides, it is safe. With the family out of the picture, Arabella can return to her normal living, besides I'll be right here, Artemisia and Rosmerta are terribly close by, and Lupin has access. But for now, he's with Sirius and it isn't exactly a good time for us to send him there."
"Well, let him live here-,"
"Severus. You're not thinking or choosing not to. If he is indeed in the condition I think he's in, you will be able to help him and understand him better than I can…I need you to do this. If it fails miserably, he can stay here until the school year."
"You'd better know what your doing…I hope your judgement is better than it was when you let him stay with those Muggles."
"Believe me, I'm regretting it now."
-
Severus Snape walked through the halls of the now empty Hogwarts. He could feel the echoes, reverberations, footsteps, swishing of robes, distant memories of only two weeks ago. Only two weeks ago. If he hadn't been so tired, he would've laughed. It had been two years after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, two years since he had been spying more often, two years after Harry Potter had survived Voldemort again and got through his 5th and 6th years.
The stone walls breathed emptiness and Snape felt it as he quickly made his way to the hospital wing. After the Tri-Wizard tournament, many of the Wizarding Families had taken their children out of school and Severus kept a more careful eye on Potter. He cursed himself now for not noticing anything before, but tried to bring the thought away from his mind. Did Weasely and Granger know as well? He wondered, did anyone even think of it?
Madame Pomfrey met him at the entrance, looking drawn and more strained than he had ever seen her. The woman had seen much in her many years, but perhaps seeing an almost dead Savior of the Wizarding World who had almost perished of his own accord had thrown her off guard.
"Professor Snape-,"
"Severus, Poppy," He cut her off quietly, "I told you to call me that in the summers. Can I see him?"
"Of course, Pro-," she corrected herself, voice anxious, "Severus. I know he's been awake for a few hours, I had the substances flushed from his system hours ago. He won't talk, won't eat-," She looked at the ground and handed him a clipboard, "Here."
Severus had never seen her this way, so worried, so unprofessional. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, she didn't seem to want to tell him anything, for fear she'd lose composure. He took the clipboard and gave her an uncharacteristic pat on the shoulder.
The clipboard was written in shaky hand but he could read it out and he almost dropped the thing.
"102 pounds?" He asked in a breath, astounded. The woman nodded slowly, and he continued. The drug interactions were there as well, Poppy had found he had taken an Acetaminophen Sleeping pill, a low dose of Draught of Living Death as well as an illegal potion, Champagne Supernova, which was considered a kind of drug in the wizarding world. Severus was surprised the boy wasn't braindead, or worse, killed. Staring at it with scrutiny, he assumed the boy hadn't been trying to kill himself. His blood pressure was dangerously low, accompanying the dangerously low weight. His mind swam and Poppy gave a loud sniffle as she gestured in. Giving her back the clipboard, he braced himself as he entered the bedrest area.
Harry was sitting up in bed, his face more pale than Snape had ever seen it, eyes accented by eyeliner and they were staring listlessly out the window. He looked smaller than ever, his crossed arms bony and blue, looking as if they would snap. Snape approached cautiously and Harry didn't move a muscle.
"Some predicament you've gotten yourself into this time, Potter," he said quietly, before he could stop himself and then immediately felt bad after the words left his lips. However, the boys face was a glacier, his mind somewhere else.
"I suppose you had no idea what you were doing," Snape continued, in a muttered tone. This was more than he had said to the boy in ages, "I am curious to see how you got all that though. As well as to know why…"
Still, the boy made no movement, Snape couldn't even tell if he was breathing. Irritation bit at him like a small insect and he moved closer to the bed. It was odd now, he mused in another part of his brain, that before he could loom before the boy and be as sinister as he wanted. The way Harry was acting now turned that tactic all around.
"Your little escapade has had a bit of an effect on everyone…slightly unsettling, your actions," he bit out, frustrated, "I don't know how I got involved." He tried to give his best glare to the boy but his face fell as-
Harry turned and looked at him, straight into his jet-black eyes, face blank, impassive, eyes deep and looking different than Snape had ever seen them. He blinked and then exhaled slowly, uncrossing his arms.
"Actually, Snape, I knew exactly what I was doing, and why. It's caused the more hidden part of the Wizarding World into a stir, and I wouldn't be surprised if Rita Skeeter burst in at this very moment. Dumbledore is dumbfounded, pardon the onomatopoeia, and however much against my will, and yours, I assume," his voice somewhat cold, but very matter of fact, which Snape found unsettling, "I still will be put into your care. Is that better?"
Snape felt slightly ashamed and more disturbed by the way Potter was saying these things, and for the first time ever, he lowered his eyes before Potter did.
-