Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, but I do own my imagination which takes me on wonderful adventures.
Harry, Just Harry
Chapter 1
Severus heaved a sigh and pushed open the cemetery gate. Halloween – another year gone. His thoughts drifted as his feet trod the familiar path. Twenty-six years – over a quarter of a century now and he still felt no closer to peace. He sighed again, more deeply this time.
Severus raised his head and realized that something was different. He let his wand slip into his hand and cautiously approached the pile of rags lying in front of the double headstone. As he moved closer, Severus realized there was a body under the rags. Finally, he saw the pale arm in the dim light of the moon with a dark, glittering puddle beneath it.
He caught his breath, rushed to the body, and turning it over, saw, to his great surprise, the pale face of Harry Potter. Lying next to the body was a bloody knife.
Praying he wasn't too late, Severus felt for a pulse. In his trepidation, he nearly missed it. It was weak and fading. Quickly, gathering Harry in his arms, he apparated to his cottage. As he rushed inside, he accioed three vials of blood replenisher, a pain relief potion and a dose of dreamless sleep.
Severus laid Harry on the bed in his guest room and administered the potions as soon as he healed the sliced arms. Then he stood back and stared for a moment before speaking aloud (mostly to himself), "I thought we were past the point of my having to save your life, Mr. Potter." He cast a scourgify, transfigured the clothes into pajamas, took one last look at his unexpected guest and left the room.
0-0-0-0-0
Harry slowly became aware of his surroundings. It was very bright and took him a few tries to open his eyes completely. He groaned and reached towards the bedside table for his glasses.
A pleasant room decorated in accents of dusky blue and rust red against a white background met his view. In addition to the large, brass-framed bed on which he lay, there was a whitewashed wardrobe, a white brick-fronted fireplace and two plaid easy chairs set on an oval rag rug, both matching the colors of the room.
On the bedside table, sat a covered tray with a bowl of soup, fresh bread and a few potions, placed under under stay-fresh and warming spells.
'Where am I? How did I get here?' Harry mumbled to himself as he sat up.
A note was propped up against the table lamp. The writing was vaguely familiar but he couldn't place it. 'I will be back late and will speak with you tomorrow. Eat – you need your strength. I have left you some potions; take them after you eat. Then get some more rest.' There was no signature.
Harry ate the food, took the potions (which he recognized as a blood replenisher, a pain suppressant and a mild sleep draught) and drifted off to sleep contemplating his unexpected circumstances.
0-0-0-0-0
Severus was awoken sometime after midnight by the sound of screaming coming from his guestroom. He raced in and found Harry deep in the throes of a nightmare.
He was tossing and turning, completely tangled up in the blanket. His face was covered in a sheen of perspiration and he was alternating between pleading and screaming in pain. Suddenly, he gasped in mid-scream and bolted upright. His eyes were wide and glassy and his breath came in ragged pants while he tried to calm himself. Suddenly, he realized he wasn't alone.
"Who's there?"
"Are you all right?" Severus asked. "Would you like some dreamless sleep?"
"Who are you?" Harry asked, searching for his glasses. They were handed to him and he put them on.
"S-Snape?" Harry stammered, confused. "B-but you're dead!" He took a calming breath. "Is… is this some kind of way station between life and death? The last time I died, it looked like King's Cross Station and the Headmaster met me." He halted and seemed to speculate. "I guess it must be your turn. I just assumed it would be someone who liked me, but maybe not. Do I have to go through the door this time rather than ride the train?" he asked.
"You are not dead, though you almost succeeded. Why, Potter?" Severus queried. "You have your whole life to live – why would you end it now?"
Harry paled. "This isn't life! This is barely an existence," he said bitterly. "I thought you were dead," he deftly changed the subject.
"Obviously not. I took my chance to start over when the opportunity presented itself. I created a new life and a new identity for myself." He paused, then continued, "It's late. We will continue this in the morning."
Harry stared after Severus as he left the room. This situation was completely incomprehensible. Both of them should be dead, yet here they were – both very much alive.
After lying awake for a long time, Harry got out of bed and found his way to the kitchen. He prepared himself some tea and sat at the table contemplating the lightening sky through the window.
0-0-0-0-0
Severus came downstairs about an hour after dawn. "Did you sleep?" he asked Harry.
"Not after – I never do."
"How often do you experience nightmares like that?"
"Nearly every night for as long as I can remember. Some nights there are only bad dreams – other nights are much, much worse. Last night's dream fell in the middle range," Harry explained.
"That was the middle range?" Severus asked incredulously, staring at Harry. When it didn't seem like he would receive any more explanation, he proceeded to place breakfast items on the table.
Harry picked at the food.
"Stop playing with your food, Potter. You are underweight and unhealthy," Severus ordered.
"I'm not hungry and you are not my keeper!" Harry retorted, tossing down his fork. He rose from the table and stalked out. A moment later, the guest room door slammed shut.
Severus sighed, finished eating and prepared a tray of assorted items. He added a nutrient potion and took the tray to Harry.
"You must eat, Mr. Potter, even if I have to force feed you myself."
"Why do you care what happens to me? Stop saving me!" Harry yelled. "Let me die!"
"Are you aware of the consequences of breaking a wizard's oath?" Severus queried.
"You die," Harry answered matter-of-factly.
"Correct. However, I am not yet ready to die. My life is finally going where I want it to go. I will not allow you to destroy that for me. Therefore, you will eat," Severus commanded.
Harry stared dumbfounded at Severus. "You made a wizard's oath to keep me alive? Why? You hate me!"
"It's my own business why. And I do not hate you. Now, eat."
Harry took the tray with a resigned sigh. "The last thing I want is to have another death on my head."
Severus watched for a few moments. "What is so wrong with your life that you wish to give it up so easily? You're young, rich, famous, handsome – the world is at your feet. You can do anything you want, have anyone you wish."
Harry interrupted. "That's what you think? You know nothing about me! You are so blinded by what you want to believe, that you can't see past the end of your big nose!" Harry became indignant.
"Okay, Mr. Potter. Prove your case."
"You've never believed anything I've ever told you before – what would make you start now?"
"Proof, Mr. Potter, proof."
"Where are the robes I was wearing when you found me? There is a shrunken box in my pocket. In it is all the proof you need," Harry challenged.
Severus went to the closet where he had hung the robes earlier, located the box Harry had indicated and enlarged it.
"Happy reading, Sir," Harry mumbled, his voice as dead as his eyes. "I think I'll take a nap."