Severus focuses on the feel of the cold floor under his knees. His elbows rest on the thin blankets that cover his bed. It's small, the same size as Potter's, and not large enough for two. As if there's ever been anyone that might make two. His throbbing erection presses painfully into his trousers and he starts his prayer again.
"Be merciful to me, O God, because of your constant love. Because of your great mercy wipe away my sins. Wash away all my evil and make me clean from my sin."
The sound of Potter's meek snores invades his thoughts and his body trembles. He only thought it for a moment, that relieving his needs via the boy might not be so bad, but a moment was long enough. "I am not Tobias!" he growls as the forbidden image of Potter on his knees flashes through his mind. "Be merciful to me, O God!" He runs his hands through his hair, pulls at every strand he can reach to inflict the most pain. "Because of your constant love. Because of your great mercy."
His magic swells around him, shaking everything it comes into contact with and a tear runs down his cheek. He is not Tobias. Bits of ceiling drop into his hair and onto the sheets under the strain of the shaking. "Wash away all my evil," he whispers. But it is not an evil the Lord can wash away. The thought never should have happened. It's not right. He knows it's not right. But maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe all those times Tobias touched him were just the events necessary to build him into the man he is. And that's the crux of it.
To categorically state that molestation is wrong, evil, he must also acknowledge his childhood as wrong and evil. A little boy should not be wrapped up in such evil. "I have been evil from the day I was born," he skips a few lines in the prayer. "From the time I was conceived, I have been sinful." He draws in a shaky breath and rests his head in his hands.
Potter should be sent back to London, for his own good. Before he gets hurt. Before Severus does something he can't take back. There are enough people in the world that love Potter—one of them can take him. He listens for Potter's snores, having decided to tell him immediately, but they're gone. Which means….
He snaps his head in the direction of the door and feels his stomach drop. There Potter stands, playing with his hair, half awake. "I thought there was an earthquake," he mutters.
Severus returns to looking at his hands like he's alone again. "Be merciful to me, O God, because of your constant love. Because of your great mercy wipe away my sins. Wash away all evil and make me clean from my sin. I recognize my faults; I am always conscious of my sins." He is aware of the thud of Potter's knees hitting the floor, but pushes it as far away from himself as he can. "I have sinned against you—only against you—and done what you consider evil. So you are right in judging me; you are justified in condemning me. I have been evil from the day I was born; from the time I was conceived, I have been sinful." He draws a blank and skips whatever comes next for what he can remember. "Spare my life, O God, and save me." More ceiling dust drops on them and now Potter is as dirty with his transgression as he is. "And I will gladly proclaim your righteousness. Help me to speak, Lord, and I will praise you."
"Amen," Potter interjects before Severus can think of any other part of the prayer. "I had a dream," he whispers, "I was…I was torturing someone. At first it was Ron. He was on the ground shaking, screaming. And then it was Sirius. But he wasn't screaming, he was feral like a dog, foaming at the mouth." He draws in a sharp breath. "Then it was Vernon."
Potter leans forward until his head is resting on the bed. "As soon as it was Vernon I had to wake up because it no longer felt like a bad dream. It felt like a wish. Like maybe I wanted to hurt them all for real. It was only for a minute," he whispers. "I only thought it for a minute."
Severus nods slowly and attempts to put some focus into Potter's problem. He's never noticed a sadistic side to Potter. Wanting to hurt Vernon is acceptable. But wanting to hurt the Weasley boy and Black? It's almost as absurd as Severus picturing himself molesting Potter. "I think," he begins. "I think we need to remember the things that have made us who we are."
He sits back on his heels and tries not to stare at Potter's gently shaking shoulders. No boy should be dealing with this. This boy should not have to face the darkness of what he's gone through so soon. "You've been hurt, Heilyn. It's okay to want to hurt others in return. So long as you pray about it instead of acting on it."
"I need you to teach me," Potter says. "Teach me to pray and be good."
"I can't teach you to be good," Severus chokes out a laugh. "I. Can only teach you how to drown in guilt and punish yourself. You silly little boy."
Potter wipes at the snot on his face with the back of his hand as he copies Severus' position. "Then teach me how to pray and what to do when I have these thoughts." A small sob escapes his lips. "I don't want to hurt." His shoulders start to shake again and Severus realizes there will not be a quick end to this.
He places his hand gently on the boy's back and focuses on not removing it out of discomfort. People don't touch Severus Snape; People don't want to be touched by Severus Snape. He's adjusted to that. They stay still, with Severus' hand on Potter's back, until the boy hushes. Potter's shoulders slump and he lets out something of a mewl.
"Heilyn?" Severus hisses.
"M'tired."
Severus stands the boy up with as little physical contact as possible and drags him back to his room. He holds back the covers while Potter climbs in and takes his glasses before arranging the blanket as he usually does. His earlier notions of sending Potter away are gone. The boy is too fragile. Someone like Black will harm him beyond repair, drive him into the hermitical life Severus is so accustomed to.
"Good night."
The smallest of whispers comes in reply. "Night dad."
A/N: short chapter, but a little intense. It has dawned on me that I did not give the names/authors of the poems used so I'll be posting them at the end now. Still backlogging.
I. Auden
II. Auden
III. Chp. 4: "Snow in Europe" by David Gascoyne
IV. Chp. 7: "Bone Scan" by Gwen Harwood
