Hey guys, I know I havn't written a story in a while but because Severus tickles me, I've decided to write a Snape mentors Harry fic. I know there are a million of these types but I couldn't resist writing one myself. I hope you enjoy, updates will follow hopefully within a short time frame!
Deep in the dark tunnels and corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a lone figure sat in a stiffed backed chair, head rested against its rough backing. Severus Snape poured himself another round of fire whiskey and swirled it around in his glass mercilessly, dark eyes trained on nothing in particular. His tall frame, not far from slumping into the chair, trembled gently.
The dungeons seemed unusually cold and dreary, but it wasn't this that had the potions master so deep in thought. It was the first night of term. A very bad sign, indeed. Snape continued the merciless and unrelenting twirl of his drink between pale, nimble fingers and fought the urge to fidget in his seat, his injuries worse than he had initially thought.
He was quite alone, no need to be self-conscious and yet, for all it was worth, he couldn't bring himself to relax.
It was the boy's sixth year; Potter was finally only two short years away from leaving him in peace.
And why, pray tell, was he wasting a perfectly good evening on thoughts that revolved around the arrogant, pathetic and insolent excuse of a child? Because he must. The Dark Lord was finally growing tired of waiting, impatient with his servants failures and predictably his own frustration on having lost his chance, once again, to capture the damn boy.
Snape snorted silently to himself, immersed deeply in his own thoughts, barely even registering the shaking of his hands as the cruciatus curse left him, once again, with the inability to rid himself completely of its after effects. That night, he had been injured minimally, a few deep cuts, bruising, a broken rib and three rounds of the cruciatus. However, this treatment was nothing, nothing compared to what was in store for the dour man if he dared disobey his master once more. The Dark Lord wanted the boy. He wanted him immediately and with a sick passion that turned the potions master's insides to ice. There was going to be hell, come the next day at Hogwarts, and Snape had just finished informing the Headmaster. Action would be required immediately, especially, though he loathed admitting it, with the Potter boy.
"Severus?" Came the soft inquiry of said Headmaster. The breach in his silent musings startled Snape, but he made no outward show of his uneasiness or fright.
"Yes, Albus?" Snape quipped as he finally settled his drink aside, having no more desire to consume its harsh contents that tampered with his mind, especially in its brooding state. With a whirl of green flame, Albus came through the floo and sat himself, unrequested, into a small black chair directly in front of his staff member. Snape stiffened as the Headmasters piercing blue gaze settled on his shaking hands. Damn the cruciatus curse and its user! Casting a malevolent glare at his mentor, he crossed his arms over his chest, effectively cutting his shaking hands from view.
"Severus," Albus said quietly, his eyes pleading forgiveness.
"What is it Albus?" Snape asked curtly with a small sneer, he was in no mood to be tampered with. He only wished to go to bed and forget all the horrors and the knowledge of the impending attack that he'd dealt with that evening.
"I do appolog-"
"Don't!" Snape cut him off, his temper only on the rise. "Your useless apologies do nothing but aggravate me, as you know. Please refrain yourself. Let us talk of business so I may have my rest." The comment was attached with a scowl that only deepened as the Headmaster sighed heavily, his old frame sinking into the chair.
"Are you so sure, my boy?" He inquired softly, knowing Snape would understand what he was referring to and also realizing how this particular statement would be met.
"No, I simply enjoy the pain and torture the Dark Lord inflicts upon me to such an extent, that I have simply forgotten half of the information and therefore relay only what I can remember. I do apologize for my carelessness, Albus; I shall be more inclined to listen more carefully the next time." Snape's words were laced so thick with sarcasm; the Headmaster feared he may be able to walk on it. Cold, black eyes bore into his own with such intensity that Albus was forced to accept what he wished so dearly to forget.
"He will act tomorrow? You are positive, Severus?" Albus asked once again, rubbing his eyes tiredly while the potions master scowled blackly at the elder man.
"Of course I am positive! When has my information ever led you astray? Do tell, Albus, because I fail to see your incomprehension of the subject." Snape was soon on his feet, his anger pulling reign on his conflicted and weary consciousness. "The Dark Lord acts tomorrow night, no one is safe, and Potter will be in need of more supervision than what he has been provided with." Albus watched Snape's small outburst with concern, the twinkle usually adorning his eyes a little bleak and buried.
"Severus, do sit down, you're working yourself up more than your body will accept." He watched with worried eyes as Snape's entire frame shook with tremors, not of anger but of pain.
"Have you been to see Poppy?" Albus asked, as his young teacher finally sat back stiffly into his chair.
"There is no need." Snape waved his hand in dismissal. He could take care of his own wounds. He'd already healed most of them and drank potions for those in need of more aid than his wand could provide. The only thing he would need to wait out were the effects of the cruciatus curse and the broken rib that was slowly mending as he conversed with the Headmaster.
"We need to evacuate the students at once," Snape began, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. All he really wanted to do was sleep, sleep and forget the whole ordeal.
"It cannot be done," Albus said quietly, his eyes weary as he took in Snape's hostile expression.
"What are you saying, old man?" The term wasn't meant as an insult, for he used it often, but in this instant, he almost used it as such. The darker man possessed a bottomless pit of anger. It never seemed to end, a place where he could shove and push all his pain and rage into, so that it filled his chest with a fiery warmth, fuelling his glares and heating his voice.
"The ministry will not allow it. Severus, please believe me, I would do it now if I could." Snape hissed, his anger forcing his knuckles to whiten where they sat curled against the armrest of his chair.
"Albus, We. Must. Evacuate. This. Minute!" he said harshly, his words lashing out into the cold atmosphere.
"My boy, I will set up the plans, we will get the children out, but not tonight, the ministry will not allow it."
"And the boy?"
"Harry will need added supervision and an escort if things go horribly wrong. The blood wards at his Aunt's and Uncle's should protect him when the need arises. But until then, I am in need of someone to watch his every move and be there for him when the time is right." Albus stared levelly at Snape' stony face, knowing full well what his young teacher's reaction would be.
"Do not look at me like that, Albus. I watch the damned boy every second of every day while he is at Hogwarts, I cannot even believe I baby sit the idiot child as much as it is, I refuse to be his personal chaperone!" Snape scowled crossly. The nerve of the man! He had no right, no right to ask him such a thing!
"Stop scowling, Severus, or your face will never revert back," Albus admonished lightly and smiled gently at Snape's risen eyebrow.
"Do not berate me, Albus, I am not a child, and nor am I taking care of the infuriating brat." Snape stared stonily at Albus who sat calmly across from him, eyes twinkling merrily and fingers stippled in front of him.
"Ah, but you are still so young Severus, so young and full of such potential …" he let himself trail away, looked back at Snape' blank face, and felt horribly guilty. Guilty for allowing the young man to present himself in front of Voldemort time and time again, risking his life when he could be out finding cures for various diseases or medical issues, furthering potions knowledge exponentially.
Snape watched as emotions danced in front of the Headmaster's eyes, guilt, regret, shame and finally, disappointment. He knew exactly where his train of thought had led to and he knew he must stop it.
"Albus, I have chosen my path, as you have chosen yours. My job lies within the ranks of the Death Eaters and yours with politics, it's what we have chosen and I will not have it any other way," he said stubbornly, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. He knew he was lying but was so good at it, that it fell from his lips naturally. Somewhere deep and dark in his heart, he knew he never wanted to return to Voldemort, he wanted to quit, sometimes he'd rather die while admits some of the more horrific and painful tortures… but held strong. He had a cause and he would stick to it.
Albus sighed wearily, his age catching up to him as deep lines creased his face. "My boy, I must ask this of you. You know of its urgency and I do not need to stress the fact that Harry needs the best supervision I can supply him. As you know- no, Severus, let me finish- this event could lead to his untimely demise and I need you, Severus, to hold him strong, aid him in his training while there is a lack of it here."
"Why can you not ask Minerva or—"
"Severus," Albus reprimanded softly, much to the other man's irritation "I would trust no other, as I trust you. You're knowledge and skill are not contestable and although I am completely aware of you aversion to the boy—" Snape snorted. "I am convinced you will make the right decision and take upon another burden it seems I am to place upon your shoulders." The silence was tense and the air crackled with Snape's repressed rage.
"You insufferable man," Snape snarled and snapped to his feet, pacing while tremors continued to wrack assault on his body. Albus waited patiently, his eyes distant and calculating as he observed the younger man's behaviour. The man was difficult to get to and he hoped, with all his heart, that he would make the right decision. Harry needed him, whether the boy acknowledged it himself or not.
"And what would you have me do, Albus? Take the boy back home where I am to complete his training in Petunia's garden? Or, have him, Merlin forbid, take residence in my Manor while I await to be called away to the Dark Lord and suffer his wrath? Hmm?" Snape's tone was bleak and his eyes cold and distant.
"Harry must return home for at least a day or two, I trust his surrogate family will have no objections, but after, my boy, I am not quite so sure. These things require planning and fine detailing." Snape snorted, his lip curling in disdain.
"I cannot do this, Albus, we are too different, it will never work."
"Oh, Severus, if you'd only let down your guard you will find Harry to be a remarkable person and—"
"Yes, yes, Albus," Snape waved a hand in dismissal and impatience, "I have heard it all before and yet I remain unconvinced. If the boy were so great he would not be in this predicament for the Dark Lord would have been defeated by now."
"Ah, but don't you see, my boy? With your aid and skill, Harry will be much more… fit and mentally prepared to deal with his destiny, would you deny him such a thing Severus? Would you truly deny the child a chance of survival? Of defeating that in which he—"
"Enough, enough! You meddlesome old fool." Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and repressed the sudden threat of a migraine, collapsing into his chair, exhausted. "Never have I met anyone so tiresome." Albus sighed in quiet relief and Snape had the sneaky suspicion he'd only done it for his benefit. He fought the urge to sneer, as if the headmaster's peace of mind meant that much to him.
"Get some well deserved rest, Severus; we will deal with whatever comes our way tomorrow." He stood abruptly, and cast one last concerned glance at his young teacher before turning towards the still burning fire. Snape sunk lower into his chair, exhaustion sweeping over him, his aches and pains getting the best of him. He drew his face carefully into his hands and wracked thin, pale fingers through his hair, tiredness evident among his features.
"What would you have me do, Albus?" He asked in defeat, a look of pain crossing his features, a sigh escaping his tired lips. Albus paused; his back turned on the younger man and spoke without a glance backward. "Stay alive, my dear boy. Stay alive and keep Harry safe." With that last cryptic remark, the Headmaster disappeared in a flurry of green flame and Snape was left to his lonesome.
Snape's figure trembled as he let out a heaving sigh, bowing his back until his face rested buried in his hands. If he were willing to be honest with himself, which he wasn't entirely sure about, he would admit that he would want to take the boy, if only to make sure he stayed alive. He did not trust his other staff members to make sure the boy's idiotic behaviour didn't result in his death, no, they would smother the boy and bow to his every whim. Even if the arrogant spawn of Potter would undoubtedly cause many headaches and frustrations, even most likely cause Snape's own death, he knew he must take the boy. Albus was right, he would surely parish with any other and, loath as he was to admit it, he knew the boy would be safest in his care.
Snape snorted to himself, cursed Potters entire bloodline and one Albus Dumbledore. Shutting his eyes, much too tired to make it to his rooms, Snape accepted that he would not make it to his bed and fell into a nightmare filled and far from restful sleep.
Tomorrow, the second day of term, was going to be the most dangerous and pivotal point in his spying career, let alone his own life.
A-N: Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed, if you liked it I'd love to hear from you, the lord knows I need the encouragement, thanks again. Please leave a review!