AN: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed with such kind words, it really makes the writing worthwhile, I hope to continue winning such flattering approbation! To those who asked, I pour chocolate over the sexy slytherins and throw cherries in abundance this is a short chapter as I'm incredibly busy at the moment
Chapter six -No song encompass it, no other worlds.
"Magical resonant feedback" the hushed voice of the head in the fire murmured "rare, but not unheard of in high magic, high stress cases" Severus met the headmasters flame limned eyes with his own, and sighed, rubbing again at the marks that stood out roseate against his own pale skin tone. "So Potter is to manage to abuse me even in my dreams" He had meant for his tone to be cutting, maybe even sarcastic – however It had emerged tired and drawn.
A frown beetled Dumbledore's brow, making him look more unaccountably ancient than he normally did "I have a suggestion Severus my boy" Severus my boy had, in Snape's experience the ring of something he wasn't going to like at all, but he nodded, he wasn't stupid but Albus was in a class of his own "Sleep with the boy"
Shock blindsided him.
A blink.
A breath.
The sudden flash vision of the dream potters delicate collar dark as midnight against the boys pale skin.
He knew his breathing had gone choppy, staring at the fire Albus he swore "Merlin, what do you think I am" For a second something like confusion chased across the headmasters face, then comprehension followed like a fox after rabbit "Not that way Severus, I meant next to him being close may stop him from magically reaching out and entangling himself with your sleeping mind"
Ah. Of course
"Are you certain that's wise Headmaster?" Dumbledores fiery head winked at him through the flames "Of course Severus, the entire faculty would trust your discretion, and Harry's sanity is of more importance right now than your prudery" Of course, his mental monologue sneered, golden boy potter once again more important than the rest of the world. …. Poor broken child.
Sympathy for the devil? The world was obviously ending. Without giving Albus a reply he walked away from the fire and into the bedroom currently holding the sleeping Potter. The boys face was furrowed with misery even in sleep, pale even in the depths of the shadows under his eyes as if something had gently dusted him with snow. Reaching out with one hand he felt the boys forehead, chill moistness seeped in to the tips of his fingers, and there, seeping down from beneath closed lids were the warm tracks of tears.
Sighing in defeat Severus lay fully clothed on top of the coverlet and composed himself for sleep.
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The other had left him, all alone in the darkness with the cold slowly seeping into his bones like a tide of sorrow and shame. It was always like this, so cold, dank and blacker than any dungeon Voldemort could ever have designed for him.
And so lonely.
A flicker at the corner of his eye caught his attention, and held it, riveted he stared, light, there was never light here. But there in the distance was a warm fire lit glow. He stood, wincing as the wind howled silently, biting into his flesh like rabid worms on rotting meat and stumbled towards it, the rocky surface piercing his feet like glass.
It hurt and it felt like aeons had passed before the surface under his feet turned to black sand, and he was sure he could hear the sound of surf and there sitting by a driftwood fire was Professor Snape.
His fingers flittered to the collar at his throat, as he tugged the man looked up and obsidian eyes pierced the dark with their stare "Sit down Harry, you're letting the wind in" His knees buckled but the sand caught him in a curiously sun warmed embrace and looking through the flames of the fire he almost thought he saw the professor smile.
