Disclaimer: No. Cuz J.K.'s happy endings suck. *coughfuckingepiloguecough*

Title: The Ties That Bind

Summary/ Warning: Dom/ Sub, HGRW, PPBZ, RLSB, NLDM, TNSB, NMLM, LVBL …and of course HPSS.

Chapter 28: Breaking His Soul

:Parseltongue:

"Conversational thoughts"

Private thoughts, shared memories


Hermione glanced up at the board as she copied down the homework, wondering at the strange day. Potion's had been dismal- Snape had had them answer questions from the book- questions Hermione had known the answer to since fourth year. Transfiguration had been tense- Poppy had apparently told the Deputy Headmistress that Harry had a bad cold and needed to stay in bed for the foreseeable future.

Now in Charms Flitwick was making them practice the hardest spells from each previous year. Hermione wanted to laugh at all of it, but her throat wouldn't let her. Every time she tried to laugh or chuckle or snicker it caught in her throat and she couldn't manage it. It was like her own body was despairing for Harry already. Ron reached his hand under their table and squeezed her knee, and she looked up in thanks.

The one good thing was that Ron had become more willing to help, know that he knew about Harry's illness... try though he might to get Hermione to let him kill Snape. She placed her hand over his for a moment before turning back to the board. She knew they all needed all the comfort they could get.

Merlin only knew what would happen next.


Nikita huffed as she watched Harry, wondering at his strange silence. Her human had been awake for a little while now, but so far he hadn't said anything. But she would wait- patient- for her young Master to gather his thoughts.

A few minutes later Harry opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. :He must hate me.:

:Why do you say that, young Master?: Nikita tilted her head in question as Harry stared- unblinking- at the ceiling.

:He hasn't come to see me. That's enough.: Harry's low, whispered voice was barely audible, but as close as she was Nikita could hear him perfectly. But there was nothing she could say, so she waited, shrugging her shoulder closer to Harry and warming his back even more. :Why hasn't he come?: Her human asked, trying valiantly- but failing- to keep his voice steady. Nikita dropped her head and blew a breath from her nose.

:The ways of your species are mysterious to me, though I can guess.: Harry didn't react, and after a moment the Manticore went on. :It seems to me as though no one has told him of your condition. And he doesn't know anything about how you are doing. He may not even know anything is wrong.:

Harry barked a laugh, closing his eyes briefly before snapping them open again and staring resolutely at the ceiling. :He would- if anyone would- know. He is punishing me for failing him. He is showing me how unworthy I am.: Nikita growled in displeasure, but Harry didn't react. :It's true, Nikita. Otherwise he would be here, right?: Harry choked back the sob that threatened to rise in his throat. :And he's not.:

:He will come, young Master,: the Manticore reassured, brushing her muzzle gently over Harry's hair. :He will come.: Harry nodded slightly, accepting her words without agreeing to them. His eyes studied the pattern of the roof, tracing the flow of the grains and the placement of the tiles. Anything to keep his eyes open, though he knew that sleep would soon him up again.

Anything to make… him stay… awake…


… cold… so cold… frozen breaking bleeding sleeping freezing… the world was ice and frost- gray and white- silver and metal. Hard. Unforgiving. Despairing.

deadly

slicing stabbing ripping tearing bleeding crying weeping

STOP! helphelphelpSEVERUS! Help- why aren't you here?! I need you you can heal me make me whole take me back STOP THIS!

thrashing twisting stabbing breaking writhing hurting screaming sobbing

SEVERUS!!

bleeding crying shredding

'unworthy'

killing.


"I don't understand," Hermione said helplessly, "he's fine, and then out of nowhere he gets these random attacks." She looked up at Poppy with pleading eyes. "You can't do anything?"

Poppy sucked in a breath and held it, considering. "I don't think so," she admitted, and kept her gaze away from Hermione. "I think that if the Bond has not been properly made, as we think, then there is nothing we can do." She paused, and chuckled brokenly. "There would be nothing we could have done if the Bond had been proper, either."

Hermione looked away, and when Ron came into the room with Minerva he immediately went over to Hermione. The Transfigurations Professor looked at Harry's still form, the Manticore hissing at her from the bed, the Medi-Witch, and the two students and paled.

"Tell me what is going on."


A half an hour later Minerva was collapsed into her chair, in shock. "Tell me who his mate is," she demanded, "I'm going to talk to him." Poppy bit her lip, but shook her head.

"I really can't say," she offered at the Deputy's expression, and gestured to the sleeping form of their Saviour. "He hasn't said that I can." Minerva frowned, and looked over at Hermione and Ron suddenly. "You two know." Hermione shook her head, slightly afraid of refusing her Head of House.

"You don't know? Or you won't tell?"

"We can't tell you, Professor," Rom said, surprising the older woman. Usually he let Hermione handle things. "We told Harry we wouldn't." Minerva sighed. Of course they couldn't say.

"Well, I guess I shall find out from Mr. Potter who his mate is when he wakes." She ignored the sad looks being exchanged and rose from her seat. "Please keep me informed as to Mr. Potters status, Poppy. For now I shall keep this from the Headmaster's attention… but should it get any worse I will have to bring it up to him." She nodded to each of the three others, and walked out of the room. "Good day."

There was silence for a moment once Minerva left, and Ron glanced at Hermione suddenly with a strained face. "You're going to be just like her when you grow up." His voice was horrified, and succeeded in breaking the tension.

They laughed at Hermione's reaction, and left, trusting Nikita to take care of her human. There was nothing they could do- and at least Harry understood the Manticore.


The days passed by in a haze of grief and pain and overwhelming sadness, and Friday rolled around as it usually did. Though this time- accompanied by tears.

It was almost a week since Harry had been rejected, and every attempt to contact Severus Snape had failed. It was almost as though he refused to even hear Harry's name, much less talk about him. Privately Hermione despaired of Snape ever accepting his mate back, but kept up a sad-yet-hopeful façade for the others.

There was silence in Haven's Common Room- a silence that was broken by Harry's occasional giggle. No one paid attention to him, afraid that if they looked on him for too long they would dissolve into tears. Harry had… regressed, almost, to an age they couldn't determine. He knew who they were, and occasionally even a witty remark about Charms or Divination would slip out, but he was… different.

The Gryffindor kept seeing things- things that weren't there. He'd run screaming from his bedroom Wednesday night, terrified of something that wasn't there. Since then he'd refused to return, and Nikita spent her days lounging around watching her young charge. Harry stayed on his couch, reading or talking to the air. But he was happy- and the others had long since learned to not mention the word 'mate' anywhere near the Golden Boy.

Minerva had not been informed of the worsening of his condition- under the assumption she would report Harry to the Headmaster Poppy had decided the teen needed comfort and familiarity more these days. And so the secret was safe- and still the other pairs hadn't learned of his mate's identity.

Hermione had made sure no one spoke the Potion Masters name- even in passing- by banning the names of every teacher in the school from Haven, saying that the memories of where he was might undo him. No one complained- especially after Theo mentioned Dumbledore in passing and Harry began screaming and shaking. It had taken a long time to settle the teen down, and when he was finally wrapped in Hermione's arms sobbing himself to sleep she had instituted the rule.

No one disagreed.

Hermione had cut off the efforts to reach Snape after the third time she had tried to speak to the man after class, only to be granted a detention and loss of points for 'shamelessly annoying a teacher with better things to do.' This had happened only after she had mentioned Harry's name- and the had finally been fed up. Obviously he knew what he was doing to her friend and he didn't care.

He could kill himself for all she cared.


Severus exhaled heavily as his last class left, but stayed in his chair. It was too much effort to move, and he didn't need to just yet. He would wait for a while, just until he was ready to retire for the night.

But his thoughts turned to Harry as they normally did. The teen hadn't shown up for class at all this week, and Severus couldn't help but wonder if that was his fault. Did the Gryffindor still hate him? Or did he just despise Severus that much? Severus couldn't tell- and most times he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Harry was gone. It didn't seem real- everything seemed as though it was under water and fuzzy- as though it had never really happened.

But there was no sarcastic voice- no warm body- no lover. There was nothing for Severus any more, and he couldn't stand it.

How had he lived before Harry had come into his life? How had he survived without the Gryffindor-ish values and beliefs? Or the surprising turns his mornings would take? Or any of the number of things Harry had done to make Severus live again.

Or- live as he had not.

The black-haired man rose, his every joint screaming in protest, and returned to his rooms. His silent, cold rooms. The portraits ignored him, as though they knew he was to blame for their Master's absence. And how could he fault them? They were right. There was no low hissing from any painting, no movement when he was in the room. They drove the already cold temperature of the dungeons even further down, freezing Severus with their stony silence and attitudes.

Severus shuffled down the hallway, staring at the floor as he went. Should he go to bed- or the bathroom? Either place gave him just as little a chance of warming up as the other, and he finally turned to his bed with a sigh.

How much longer should he wait for Harry? Wasn't the teen coming back?

What was Severus missing?


Hermione was snuggled into Ron's embrace on their couch, just enjoying being. Harry was sprawled across his own couch, idly playing with Nikita's tail. Though Hermione had flipped her lid when she had first caught Harry doing that- a Manticore's tail-spine was highly poisonous- she just watched now. By now, everyone knew Nikita would never hurt the teen.

It was a rare night in Haven- all of the pairs were present. Susan and Theo were helping Seamus beat Dean at living chess, while Pansy and Blaise studied for the Transfigurations exam on Monday. Neville and Draco were reading over Hermione's Charms notes- or rather, Neville was reading them while Draco was busy letting Neville play with his hair and dozing.

It was quiet in the room- aside from the random exclamations from the chess game. Harry was resting contentedly, one hand dangling off of the couch and resting on Nikita and his body comfortably draped on the couch. No one bothered him, and he hadn't spoken in a while.

Pansy glance over at the Golden Boy uncomfortably, wondering. He was so… different… and yet right now it seemed as though nothing had changed. Granted- the Manticore took a little getting used to but they all had. But Harry- he was a different story. The last thing Harry had said had been about an hour ago, asking Hermione to lower the music. The room had frozen, glancing at each other in question before Hermione hastily answered the boy.

He'd thanked her very sweetly and returned to his Manticore-petting, ignoring the looks being sent his way. There had been no music playing. Pansy smiled as Blaise looked up at her, wondering why she had picked her head up from his chest. But he grimaced slightly as he intuited her train of thought, and glanced over to Harry himself.

"Hey, Mother," Harry began, idly turning to face Hermione, "when is Lucius coming back?" Draco's eyes widened impossibly huge as he stared at the Gryffindor but Hermione barely skipped a beat.

"He's dining with his friends, Harry. He'll be along later."

Harry nodded and looked away, adding, "Good, because Tom should meet his puppy."

After a pause Harry smiled. "And her collar is on the table." Nothing was there.

Eyes met swiftly as the other occupants of the room exchanged their thoughts, but no one made a comment aloud.

It had gotten to the point that such things were expected from the boy..


Severus sat upright, gasping for breath. He had barely fallen asleep again before startling awake, his dreams haunted by shadows and snakes that slithered from reality to unconsciousness. His chest heaved, and he cursed roundly as he fumbled for the covers, throwing them off.

Glancing at the time, he cursed again, and buried his head in his hands. Not even eight pm, and already he was wide awake. Sleep was his enemy, though he didn't know why. He could have gotten lost in his dreams- but no.. They eluded him and left him grasping at their tails, drifting through his fingers like smoke. Severus sighed and stood, thrusting his arms into his dressing gown and moving out into the living room. He conjured a cup of tea and sipped it, grimacing at the taste. But what did he expect from fake liquid?

Time passed slowly as he sat, waiting for sleep to reclaim him. If he couldn't have Harry, then he would do his best to loose himself to the promises of elusive dreams. But a thought was tugging at the back of his mind and he frowned, wondering if it was worth the effort to wait for the whole thought to emerge. But what else did he have to do?

And when the thought finally made it's presence known, he cursed. He threw his cup to the side, vanishing it before it splattered on anything, and transfigured his dressing gown into teaching robes.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have seen this earlier? Harry wanted Severus to come to him.

He ran to the door, and walked out.


No one stopped the Potions Master as he walked through the hallways- not that anyone was stupid enough to even try. With the unpredictability of the man this past week no one wanted to be on his bad side.

Finally, though, the man came to the corridor he was looking for and paused before the portrait, jaw clenched. Should he do this? Before he could change his mind, he whispered the password and opened the door. The little alcove before the Common Room came into sight was dark, and Severus used the shadows wisely.

All of the students were there- but he couldn't see Harry. An uncomfortable thought filled his mind, but Severus brushed it away. Harry wouldn't- he couldn't- would he? No. Severus shook his head and watched for a moment, looking for a clue as to his mate's whereabouts.

The Granger chit chuckled at something Ms. Parkinson had said, but there was an odd undertone to the room. Almost as though the teens were at someone's funeral- willing to laugh but just not loudly. Severus frowned at the analogy, but continued looking for Harry.

After a minute, he didn't have to.

"Harry, dear," the Granger asked an empty couch- and Severus realised that it's back must have been towards him because suddenly a familiar mop of unruly black hair appeared. "Are you hungry?"

The mop of hair shook, and a light voice responded, "Yes, Bella wants to talk to me."

Severus reared back in shock. Harry was speaking with Bellatrix? Why had he come when he so obviously wasn't wanted? But even as caught as he was in his own thoughts, Severus noticed the look Draco gave Mr. Zabini. Sad- resigned. Severus froze.

No- no. It couldn't possibly be- Harry couldn't have… Severus walked out of the alcove still in shock, uncaring of the heart-attacks he gave the unsuspecting students. The Granger and the Weasley watched him, though, as he made his way into the suddenly silent room. Every eye but one was on him as he slowly made his way around the couch, though Seamus went to speak. Luckily, Granger shut him up.

Severus froze for a moment when he was confronted with a face-full of protective Manticore, but his attention was pulled to Harry. The teen glanced up, wondering why Nikita was suddenly so angry, but froze.

Though he was sprawled on the couch Harry sat up in one motion, wrapping his arms around his legs and shaking his head. "N-no. No-no-no! You're not real. You're not here. You can't be here." Severus pushed Nikita's snarling muzzle away almost absently, ignoring the shocked looks the others were beginning to exchange. Harry pressed his face into his knees, hard, still murmuring.

"You- you can't be real- must be a hallucination… a trick… wouldn't be caught dead with me… leave me… get out…" Severus' heart clenched at the last word, and he fell to his knees next to the teen curled up on the couch.

"Harry, Harry," he pleaded, trying to get the Gryffindor to look at him and not caring that the others were piecing together the puzzle, "I'm real, I'm here, I'm so sorry…" the words died as Harry glanced up, tears streaking down his face and beading on his lashes. Severus began to pick up his hand but hesitated, knowing that the last time he had touched Harry had been in anger. But he gently, oh so gently, placed his hand on the Gryffindor's wrist.

"I'm real, see?" he demonstrated, squeezing the wrist lightly, "I can touch you. I'm here-" Severus said, his eyes tearing up against his will as Harry began to unwind- "I'm so sorry, Harry. Forgive me, forgive me." The words were whispered as the teen slid into his lap, wrapping his arms around Severus' shoulders and holding on for dear life.

The tears began to flow freely as they embraced, needing the contact both had so desperately craved the entire week. Hermione herded the others to their own rooms, leaving the two mates in peace. She would have a lot of explaining to do later, but right now they deserved to be alone.

Harry sobbed into Severus' neck as his mate- Severus! Severus!- let silent tears leak down his long nose, rocking back and forth as the emotions erupted within them. Harry slid a hand into Severus' hair, needing to feel his mate closer than he was. Severus went willingly, weeping as he did so.


*shifty eyes*

Better than you expected? I hope? Tell me that wasn't the best conclusion to the last three chapters of angst.... or no, don't. I don't think I could hold out against the criticism...lol. Review!!!

And FCM, this one's for you XD

P.S.: Sorry if there are random words missing- this computer is a ***** when it comes to correcting fowl language....grrr