Down the Rabbit Hole
Warnings: SLASH
A/N: Not edited. Done without spell check. And losely based off ideas in Alice in Wonderland.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Alice In Wonderland, and any and all titles associated with it are NOT mine.
Harry Potter sat on the edge of his hospital bed. Really this was all nonsense anyway. Why was he here? Why did they insist on these infernal tests? Why was he force fed potions and experimental treatments? There was nothing wrong with him. Not one damn thing. He was breathing, moving, eating, thinking, doing magic, and most of all, he was loving.
He was a perfectly stable human being. He was a perfectly stable wizard as well. They had no reason to keep him locked up in the garishly white room with the sterile sheets and cold tile floors. That is what they did however.
He had broken down in his sixth year. His mind had completely crashed around him after being rejected by the one man he had ever loved. He was stressed enough already, being the world's savior and all, but the added strain of rejection was more than his malnourished body could stand. He'd gone into a coma for several months, barely showing signs of life much less signs of magic. Yet he had recovered. He had recovered flawlessly, and he was fine. Fine damnit.
But here he sat, on the edge of the bed. On the edge of the hospital bed. On the edge of the cold, lonely hospital bed. Doctors and nurses came in and out every half hour. Every hour they forced potions down his throat. Every two hours he had a visitor to make sure hadn't tried killing himself. Again. Every four hours he had a mental checkup. Every two days he had a physical. Every week he had a small walk around the hospital gardens. Every month he was allowed to do a small bit of magic.
He was a prisoner. He was trapped in a small white cage of despair. All because of one man. One tall, dark, formidable man that he had dared to declare his love to. One Severus Snape.
Yes, Harry Potter was in love, head over heels in love, with Severus Snape. Had been for quite some time. And he was paying the price for being a freak. He was being punished for not only loving a man, but one twice his age. He was being punished for his stupidity. He always knew it would catch up to him. However, watching the rain fall from a grey sky being the highlight of his morning didn't exactly fit his idea of punishment. He supposed that he would die. By the hands of the bloodthirsty Dark Lord, not by the many hands of "caring" mediwizards.
However, he was resigned to his fate. His ever boring days of bland food and disgusting potions. His dull days filled of rest and relaxation. No more death. No more burden. No more war training. No more war at all. And what exactly was the Wizarding World going to do without its Savior anyway? Wasn't he their only hope for defeating Voldemort? Apperantly they didn't care. He was locked up, and they all seemed perfectly content to leave him that way.
Yes, he had entertained the idea that it was all Tom Riddle's doing. That Severus was really on the dark side, and they had come up with a fullproof plan to get rid of him. Slowly driving him insane. And insane he was. Insane with boredom and restlessness. However, since he was taken care of carefully, kept healthy, and never had an attempt on his life, he had dismissed that notion. Ole Voldy would have jumped at the chance to humilate and destroy him.
So, he just had to assume everyone thought it was in his best intrest that he be here. Even if he disagreed, disagrred quite violently. He'd punched a nurse in the stomach just the other day. But he was bored. Bored enough to work on something he'd been planning on for quite some time.
A way out. A breakout. An escape rope. A...rabbit hole.
He had been given chalk once upon a time by a doctor who thought that illustrating would help him overcome his pain and depression. It had been a feeble try at best, and hadn't worked in the least. Harry had been assigned a brand new doctor within the week, but he had kept the chalk. And he'd gotten more. All different colors of chalk. And one night, a dream of something he couldn't quite remember sparked something.
He could draw himself out.
He'd practiced. Every night he'd take a piece of chalk and draw a door. Those doors stayed drawings for many weeks before he'd stumbled onto a charm that, with the right modifications, would fit his cause perfectly. So he spent time perfecting his charm. He called it Dal Colore alla Vita. It meant, roughly, from color to life in Italian. And he knew it was going to work. It had to. It was the only way he was going to get out. He was too weak to escape through the front door, and he was sure some of the potions they gave him were designed to keep him that way. And he didn't have a wand. He was lucky that he'd been teaching himself wandless magic in secret. True he hadn't the knack for it, but in a desperate situation, you'd be surprised what you can excel at.
So he'd started small. A mouse hole sized door first. It had been unsuccessful. The first few times at least. He'd tried harder and harder each time it had failed. He'd jsut about killed himself, and that's when he discovered that they had put binds on his magic. They had, in a few words, handcuffed him magically. And he'd lost it.
He'd cursed, or attempted to anyway, his doctor and the two nurses that fed him potions. They put him in an isolated wing after that.
The Potter Wing they called it. And Harry wished he had wings. He coudl fly away if he had.
But he didn't. So he just kept working on his spell, and creating his door.
It was midnight now. He'd sat on his bed for long enough for the whole hospital to go dark and quiet. They assumed him to be asleep, and if he had actually taken his potions earlier, he might jsut be. However, he'd learned which ones to avoid drinking. Libraries were such useful things. So here he was, wide awake and ready to work.
He sat on the floor and drew a rather elaborate door. After all, nothing was worth doing unless you pulled all the stops. If he was to escape through a chalk door, it was going to be an impressive chalk door. He focused on the detailed of the small door. True, he wasn't going to escape through this practice door, but it didn't hurt to sharpen up on his door drawing skills. He added a finishing touch with something akin to flare and then proceeded to chant the charm over it. He moved his hands in an almost childlike manner, creating shadows on the wall opposite the window where fake moonlight streamed in.
He finished his chant and opened dark green eyes slowly. The door in front of him looked slightly different from before. He reached out with his fingers and opened the door. It creaked open to reveal a dark hole big enough for three of his fingers to fit through. He'd done it. He'd created his rabbit hole.
And he could almost hear Snape saying how idiotic his plan was. He didn't know where that door led. He didn't know what was on the other end of it. He was just another worthless Gryffindor.
"And I am worthless aren't I?" he giggled to himself. Worthless indeed.
"You are." A dark, rich voice agreeed.
"And here I thought I imagined you." Harry replied, turning to face Snape.
"Well, Potter considering your insanity, you may have." Snape replied, eyes narrowed.
"I'm not insane. I was only stressed. And rejected. By you if you remember." Harry said, as he looked up at Snape he couldn't help but catch his breath. This was the man he'd loved for so long. This was the man whom he hadn't seen in ages. This is the man who had put him here.
"I do." Was the only reply Harry recieved.
"Why are you here?" Harry asked, drawing random lines on the floor with a piece of red chalk.
"To take you home. I've missed you Potter."
"I find that rather hard to believe. And, as you can see, I have a perfectly wonderful escape plan worked out all on my own thank you very much." Harry picked up the white chalk and drew the outline of a rabbit.
"Your escape plan? It is absolute rubbish Potter. You and I both know that. For once in your life, don't be stupid." Snape ground out in a deathly cold tone.
"Stupid? Me? Never." Harry giggled again as he gave his rabbit a carrot.
"Potter, you said you loved me once remember?" Snape asked carefully.
"I remember. I was helpless, completely at your mercy, and you shred my heart to pieces. I'll probably never forget." Harry turned his face upward to meet Snape's eyes. The darkness that Harry's eyes held almost scared Snape. However, the lingering innocence and childlike trust convinced him that Harry was not a lost cause.
"Good. You remember that I told you not to lose yourself to anyone. Especially not me. I said that, did I not?" Snape asked.
"You did." Harry agreed, the rabbit was almost finished now. All it needed was a pretty little lightning bolt shaped scar. A Harry rabbit.
"Then use those words now. Don't lose yourself Harry. Don't lose to yourself. You're trying to hide, I know. You are trying to cover yourself up, and you are killing yourself. You are killing your mind Harry." Snape sat down beside the young man who looked at him sharply.
"And what would you know about it Snape? You put me here. You. I don't want to be here. I don't need to be here. I am fine, and yet I am still held captive. And it is all your fault." Harry said all of this very carefully, his tone even and frigid.
"Fine. I'll take the blame if you wish it. I am the cause of all your problems. But you can't fix them sitting around in this fantasy world you've made for yourself!" Snape's voice had risen dramatically.
Harry felt tears come to his eyes. "I know. Oh god, Severus, I don't know why I've done this--" Harry choked on whatever he was about to say. "Save me."
Severus nodded and held to boy close. Maybe this was the push Harry needed to pull himself out of the Wonderland he'd created in his mind. Maybe now his young lover would come back to the real world. Back to him.
"All you have to do is wake up Harry. Just wake up." Severus whispered.
And Harry did. He slowly made his way back to the real world where everything he'd tried so desperately to leave behind came back to him, and he was grateful.
He couldn't remember why he'd gone down that dark rabbit hole to begin with, but he did know that he was never going down it again.
Alice could chase after her white rabbit all she wanted, but he was late for an appointment. And Severus hated when he was late.
