Alright. I wrote this when I was, of course, very very cold and very very bored.
Coldcoldcoldcoldcoldcoldcold
Everything was cold.
Coldcoldcoldcold
Cold and cold and cold, and he wondered why, it never used to be this cold, it was like somebody was pumping snow into his veins and there was no blood in his body anymore, just..snow. Snow snow, and ice, and ice and cold.
Cold... Cold... Cold...
He was lying in snow, he knew that. The snow wasn't white though, it was red, red like blood, red with his blood. He knew he was dying, and so close to sweet, sweet, death; but he didn't know why, he didn't know how he was dying.. but he was dying.
Cold..
There was somebody above him, a big, black, blob. Greasy hair hung around it's face and teardrops streamed down his cheeks.. He wanted to reach up to the blob's face and ask..why are you crying.. but he didn't, because he just could not move.
Freezing coldness, everywhere..so, so cold..
He couldn't close his mouth. He just couldn't, for some reason, it felt like it was stuck open. Snowflakes fell into his waiting mouth and melted immediately on his tongue, and it felt soothing, for some reason, and then salty teardrops replaced the snow, and the blob sobbed over his body, begging him not to leave, but he wanted to.. he wanted to, oh so badly..
Cold? Why is it so cold?
But he didn't and he waited and was picked up and brought into warmth.
Warmth, warmth, warm, hot, cold, no not cold anymore warm warm yes warm!
The soft blackness enveloped him in a tight embrace, the chest beneath him shaking with sobs as he felt footsteps crunching the snow onto the ground. They were hurried, and then blurred voices spinning around in his head, and he was transferred to another body. It was softer and more feminine, but he didn't like it, no, he didn't like it all and he thrashed. He wanted to be back in the warmth, not here where everything was unknown and cold. Yes, it was cold..he needed warm, he wanted it.. "Bring..back..warmth.." He was able to choke out, blood sputtering from his mouth in a fountain and all over the nice, white clothing, but he didn't LIKE white, he wanted black.. black was nice..
"I think he wants you, Severus." Yes! Yes! Severus, that was his professor's name, and if he was warm and black, and nice, then he wanted him, he wanted him back, yes, Severus, that was his name, he wanted Severus back.. He was immediately transferred to the nicer, warmer, arms and he cuddled into the sweet, sweet, warmth, rejoicing. He was tucked back into the robes, as Severus, it was Severus, right.. Potions Professor.. Potions Master..greasy git.. no, not a greasy git, he was helping him, Severus was helping him. He embraced the man's waist and buried his cold nose right underneath the man's heart.
Severus then was crying into his hair, murmuring over and over, "Please, please, please don't leave me, Potter.. please.."
Potter, yes, aha! That was his name! Potter. What was his first name, though? He forgot. Harry. It was Harry. Harry Potter.. and his middle name was James... James Potter was his father..Lily Evans his mother. And then he remembered how he got here..
Somebody shoved him into the snow, made him bleed, left him behind, kicked him, sneered at him, spat into his hair, left him dying.. Severus saved him.. he liked Severus, Severus meant warmth and darkness and he liked both.
He didn't care about Hermione or Ron or Ginny or the attackers now, he just cared about the Severus man, who made everything better..
And he murmured it sleepily into the man's robes, and the man hissed between his teeth, hearing the words, and he smiled into the man's chest, and the man's chin buried itself in his hair, and everything was fine, even though he was still cold, cold, cold, the Severus, dark, warm man was making it all better and he liked it that way..
"Don't leave.." He murmured sleepily before succumbing to the real darkness behind his eyelids. He was placed on a bed and he wanted to open his eyes, bring Severus back..but then Severus was here, there, on the bed next to him, cuddling him, and he sank into the darkness of the Potions Professor's arms, and he wrapped his arms around the man's waist, and he liked it because Severus was nice and warm, not cold or mean like the boys that had attacked him. He murmured out the appearance of his first, biggest, scariest attacker, he didn't know who he was but the man beneath him tensed as he heard the boy's description of his attacker..
Blonde hair.. blue eyes.. cold... evil.