Chapter seven

Over the next few weeks, everyone had finally settled into their school work and classes. Naturally the fifth, seven and eighth years were studying hard even if their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were a long way off. Hermione was getting worried about Harry, he always seemed pale, he hardly smiled, never laughed, never talked much, didn't eat a lot and that had caused him to lose some weight. As Hermione approached the eighth year rooms Professor McGonagall walked up to her.

'Miss Granger, can I speak with you for a moment?'

'Of course Professor,' Hermione turned and faced her.

'It's about Mr. Potter, I'm a little worried about him.'

'So am I Professor. It's to do with being back here. He told me that he needed to so he could finally have one normal year at Hogwarts after all the stuff he'd been put through. He said he needed to prove to himself that it was never Hogwarts, it was always Voldemort. He was fine before we arrived, but the closer we got the quieter he became. I was hoping after the first few days, he would relax, but he doesn't seem to have yet.'

'Do you believe he should not have returned?'

'At first I thought it was a good idea, to finally put his past behind him. But now, no, I don't think he should have returned, but he's determined to have this year. I brought it up with him last week and he just said he needed to, he had to see this year out.'

'If he gets worse, let me know and I might talk to him.'

'I will Professor,' Hermione watched her leave before she went in to start her homework.

A week later Harry ended up late for the dada class and he raced inside making hurried apology to Snape before taking his seat. Harry thought he would have been given detention but he wasn't. All Snape said was try to be on time for the next class, which not only shocked Harry but everyone else in the class. When the lesson finished, Harry deliberately took his time packing his stuff and when all the students and Snape left, Harry quickly dug into his pocket for his knife. It seemed he couldn't go without it anymore and resorted to his strange relief up to four times a day. Harry had his back to the door as he stared down at his arm when someone grabbed him roughly and turned him around. Harry looked up in shock at Severus Snape's face as he stared down at the long bloody cut on Harry's arm and he knew that Snape could see all the other scars. Harry quickly pulled his arm away and turned around.

'Why are you doing this to yourself?'

'It's my business,' Harry put the knife back in his pocket but this time he didn't get the relief that he normally got when he cut himself and he knew it was because Snape had interrupted him.

'This is not the way to handle something traumatic. I do know that there are people that self-mutilate when they are suffering, but it doesn't help.'

'How can you know,' Harry snapped and picked up his bag but Snape pulled it out of his hands, 'You can't understand, no one can,' again Harry tried to take his bag but Snape moved it further away, 'There's nothing you can do.'

'Talk to me, talk to someone.'

'Noooo,' Harry yelled, 'just let me go,' Harry moved fast to grab his bag, he missed and slammed into Snape then for some reason his fists clenched and he started to hit Snape in the chest as tears fell from his eyes.

Snape grabbed hold of Harry's wrists and pinned them behind his back which brought their bodies closer and Snape could feel Harry's sobs even if he was silent. Snape thought he'd try something drastic, so he let Harry's arms go but put his arms around the young man who was suffering, more than anyone realised.

'I do know Harry, I used to self-mutilate. It was your mother that helped me stop.'

Harry heard the words but the pain in his chest was crippling and he finally let go, with loud aching sobs as he sank to the ground.

Snape kept his arms around Harry as they sat on the floor in his classroom and he just held Harry and let him cry, something he probably hasn't done in years and something everyone needed to do.

'You saw the memory, your mother was my only friend, she was the only one I could talk to, to confide in. I was scared I would lose that friendship when she noticed your father, but I threw it away because I was angry and humiliated. After that, I started to cut myself again and it was Lucius Malfoy that stopped me. He might have given me something else to focus on even if it was the wrong thing, but I did stop. You need someone to help you through this, someone to talk to, someone that can understand.'

'I can't,' Harry sniffed and lifted his head but never looked at Snape, 'I can't tell anyone what had been inside me. I couldn't take their looks, their disgusted looks, I feel disgusted enough for everyone.'

'You don't need to be, this was done to you, this was not something you wanted. You didn't even know about it.'

'I feel sick thinking about it. I used to get sick, then one day I just seemed to lose it and broke a glass just by squeezing. When I saw the blood, I realised I felt better,' Harry finally looked into Snape's eyes, 'You did it?'

'Yes, for years I was cutting myself,' Snape lifted his long black sleeve to show faint small scars all over his arms, 'One day I was in that park you saw in the memory, I had just finished cutting myself when you're mother walked up. I never heard her approach, normally I did. When she saw what I had been doing, she yelled at me. I'd never heard your mother so angry before, but she was furious and threatened to not be my friend if I kept going. Finally we talked and I told her what my father was like. I realised talking to her helped and I never did it again until the day when I called her that.'

'You said friend before, I thought you loved her.'

'Yes, I did, but not in a romantic way. Probably how you love Miss Granger. I know it showed how jealous I was, but not about Lily finding someone to love, it was just that your father seemed to be the one that wanted her and as you know, I did not like your father and he did not like me.'

'So it wasn't that you lost her love to my father, it was you lost your friend to my father and that's why you hated me?'

'I never hated you Harry, I had to make everyone believe I hated you, didn't you work that out. Voldemort could look into our minds whenever he wished, so I had to keep my thoughts on who you looked like, a man I did hate and that was only so he would never realise the truth. Apart from your mother's eyes, I did care about you, which is why I decided to help Albus protect you all these years. Yes, I know I got a bit hard on you at times, that's because I sometimes would see you, see how sad you were, how upset or hurt and I started to soften. I quickly had to bring forth those memories of your father and godfather so I could harden myself towards you again. Let's get up off this cold floor and go into my rooms, we can continue to talk.'

'I'm not sure I can talk about this,' Harry looked down again but he realised something, he's body had heated up and wondered why. He thought about Snape's arms around him and again he felt it, his cock twitched and before he knew what he was doing or why, he'd thrown himself at Snape and his lips were attacking Snape's lips. All Harry felt then was desire, desire deep in his stomach and even though all he could think about was the desire and that he was kissing Severus Snape, he did realise that he had a full hard on and it was pressing into Snape's side. But another thing he realised was that Snape was kissing him back and he also had a hard on that was against Harry's stomach. Their arms were all over each other, Harry's hands in Snape's hair, fisting it and holding him tight, Snape's hands under Harry's shirt. Then before Harry knew what was going on, he was on his back and Snape was sitting across him pinning his arms above his head and he was panting just as hard as Harry as they stared into each other's eyes. Both looked the same, full of wanting, full of desire and full sexual heat.