"It's the perfect plan," Dumbledore said.
Potter attempted a polite smile, which was only delivered as a pained grimace. He clenched his fists together, his elbows resting on his knees. Dumbledore sat beside him on the bed. Severus waited.
"Why don't you tell me how you two get by, then?" Dumbledore smiled too, in a way only Severus knew, and the warning that crept behind the loving eyes was enough for the guilt to nest around Severus to boil and tighten painfully. Potter eyed him too, unsure of what to say. He stared hastily at his own hands and then back to Severus. To his intense embarrassment, Severus felt the need to protest.
I cannot help you.
"All is well," Severus said at last.
"No. Nothing is. Sir — I'm going to Hogwarts. Whatever it is that you're going to say, you can't keep me here."
Dumbledore laughed. "Stay here? No, of course not, my boy. I regret all that you've been through, this Summer… Disconnected from your friends, your family, must have been hard."
"My friends are my family."
"And my only interest was to protect you."
"Then why didn't you just let me go back to my family? Didn't you always say my mom's protection spells were enough?"
"I have, Harry. And I have been wrong. You were never meant to know so much about Severus. By using his Pensieve, you became a vulnerable book to Voldemort. A book he could read anytime he controls your mind. A book filled with information that could make him want to kill Severus."
Potter's eyes darted between the two of them in panic. "I know that. Why are you telling me that again?"
"Wars must end," Dumbledore said in that wise tone that often caused his listeners the desire to punch him in the face. "But for wars to end, wars must begin. We can only prepare, Harry."
Severus watched as Harry waved a hand through his hair and scratched his scar. "So what do we have to do?"
"I am planning to travel soon. In search of what must be found. Severus will be in charge of Hogwarts while I'm away."
Hosanna. At last, the inclusive plotting he never asked for.
"So, is that it? You've kept me here, teaching me Legilimency all summer, just so I can just go back to classes while you go away and do all the work by yourself?"
"Potter." It was an impulse that made Severus interrupt them, but he had nothing to add to justify it.
"Severus taught you Legilimency?"
"I only showed him the very basics," he said fast. "No need to fret."
And Harry stared. At him. Realising Severus had been lying to him all summer. Realising Dumbledore had never asked him to teach Harry anything but Occlumency in the first place. Realising Dumbledore didn't even know Severus's clever trick of making Harry feel like he wasn't entirely wasting his time in here.
Dumbledore stared too. Severus waited. Wasn't this all tremendous?
"Excuse me," said Harry, choking on what sounded like disgust. Once the bathroom door was closed behind him, Severus turned to Dumbledore.
"Is that your final plan?" he sneered.
Dumbledore nodded kindly. "We have plenty time to discuss the arrangements. I've spoken to Minerva — she's the only one who knows, so far."
He momentarily closed his eyes in concentration. "The Dark Lord — he gave me a month. He's tired of waiting. He wants me to murder you and you want to leave Hogwarts."
"I am in search of something important, Severus."
Severus nodded. The Horcruxes. If only he could tell Dumbledore he had figured it out. If only Dumbledore had told him everything instead of letting him figure them out anyway.
"How's Harry?"
Severus furrowed his brows in confusion. "Well. You can imagine."
"I can imagine, yes," Dumbledore said lowly. "You're going to be Headmaster."
He was aware of nodding his head again but couldn't exactly recall deciding to do so. Sleep deprivation had usually little effect on him through the years. Looking after Potter wasn't exactly as easy.
"Good news come unexpected, don't they?" chanted Dumbledore, and Severus bit back a bitter remark of how news coming from Dumbledore's mouth were usually well dressed orders one would be suicidal to ignore.
The few colleagues who tolerated him would be once again suspicious of him. And Voldemort would expect him to rule Hogwarts by his word.
"Second thoughts?"
"None. Tell me what I have to do."
Severus entered the hearth only because he was obliged to do so. Were he a free man, he would go straight home and sleep. That was what a man should do at 4 am, after a cruelly prolonged Death Eater meeting. After witnessing Dolohov confess his rape attempts in between sips of wine. After having the Dark Lord pat his head in sympathy for pretending to be on Dumbledore's side.
Or in warning for the moment he'd decide to stop doing so.
He was aware of his clothes smelling of cigar and mint; that soothing smell that clung onto him every time he departed from Lucius' Manor. In the darkness of the room, he was barely aware of a hushed voice talking to him as he sat himself on the bed only too late to recall there was a chair for that.
"Sir?"
Severus inhaled slowly. He needed to be alone. Why had he come here at all? A vague part of him reminded him that Harry would be worrying himself sick if no one appeared for a day. He always faced death unaffected. He always dealt with it later.
That later was now. Potter was kicking the sheets away and a hand gripped his shoulder. Severus yanked it away.
"Severus? What's going on?"
The words didn't come right away. Severus' face tightened up and he willed himself to relax. He was here to inform the boy that everything was alright. He would then go back to Spinner's End and throw up the gallons of alcohol he had engulfed. The tiny devil on his shoulder whispered boldly to his ear that this explanation didn't match with his bringing a bottle tonight with him. Here.
This was the last place on earth where alcohol should be accessible from. He tried to remember that.
"You're furious." It was the voice of a worried just who had just woken up; that too familiar sleepy voice that did nothing to make this night better.
Furious was far from what he was. He was scared. Appalled. Upset.
Amazed at the steadiness of Potter's hands as they pulled his cloak from his shoulders and tossed it aside.
"Have you told Dumbledore?"
Severus nodded his head in what he believed to be an affirmative fashion and closed his eyes. He rested his forehead on his hands and demanded away the upcoming headache.
Harry's hands warmed his shoulders as they rubbed off his tension. He was aware of the bottle resting against his thigh being picked up and he flinched in protest.
"You don't need this."
"You're not to drink," Severus warned. His voice was hoarse. He wanted it back. Now.
"I won't drink it," Harry promised. "I'm just putting it aside."
He didn't have a mind to protest. He could think of no good reason alcohol was denied from him. He felt like being punished.
The grip on his shoulders hardened and two rough thumbs pushed into his flesh. It occurred to him that the deplorable sound he heard was his own moaning. He exhaled sharply. His shirt was soaked in his own sweat and it stuck on him like a second skin. He needed to take a shower.
Harry pulled him back and he found himself resting on the soft pillows. He lied on the bed too, his forehead against Severus's. It occurred to him that he was clenching his teeth. A muscle throbbed on the side of his jaw.
"It's okay. Just close your eyes." whispered Harry.
Severus chose to not answer. He'd sooner top himself than have the little wrench advise him. Or sooth him.
He didn't do soothing. He refused to receive it too.
Time healed all wounds, people said. Severus did not agree. The wounds remained. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covered them with scar tissue and the pain lessened. But deep down, it remained.
His pain for Lily's death only came after she was gone. The current pain for Harry was something he could not explain. The boy was alive. For now.
A hand covered his clenched fist and forced it to loosen. He needed alcohol.
"Tomorrow," Harry said.
Had he said that aloud?
He slept.
Severus was awaken by the tapping sunlight. He moaned and wondered how long he'd been sleeping. He blinked, shut his eyes, and blinked again. He yawned. A constant pressure on his conscience of something he should be aware of was forbidding him to go back to sleep. Soft raven hair brushed his lips and he grunted.
Some people wake up drowsy. Some people wake up energised. Severus had just woken up dead. He untangled himself from the equally dead octopus that happened to be Harry Potter and took a moment to look at him.
Eyelids closed against the light; breathing deep and relaxed. The muscles on his face and body were at peace. Not a twitch, not a spasm, only his chest rising and falling with every intake of air. Severus felt jealousy at his oblivion. He searched for innocence, but even in this relaxed state Severus knew that the white eyelids hid sinister eyes.
Somehow, he had fallen for this boy. And someday he'd touch him with his fingers. And he'd burn holes in his skin with his own mouth. And it'd hurt when he'd look at him. And it'd hurt when he wouldn't. And it'd feel like someone had cut him open with a jagged piece of glass.
The sharp pain of the bleeding was almost real, already.
Too soon.
Too late.
He placed a hand on Harry's chest. He shook him lightly. "Harry."
Severus was happy in his sleep. He woke up with a feeling of falling apart, of cracking up from the inside and slowly falling to pieces. Harry wrinkled his nose in acknowledgment. His hand came up to where Severus' hand was resting on his chest and touched it. It fell on the sheets right after and stayed there.
Severus' heart jumped and grated like a cold engine that didn't want to start. Little bugger. Twisted child. What have you done to me? His skin crawled, and he was incapable of managing a single clear thought. How would it feel to lower his hand? He silently promised himself strict punishment for being. Spooning out his own eyes, if necessary.
Necessary.
Definitely necessary.
Potter's eyes snapped open.
Severus' thoughts crushed to bits just as they had begun to take shape. Potter looked up at him confused.
There was a stillness between them, a period of restlessness that tied his stomach
in a hangman's noose. It was that same deadly lack of noise that lived in the
darkness of graves; the one that crept in alleys no sane man should ever know.
Harry stretched and yawned, and Severus had to mentally curse himself for thinking over the possible ways he could shut this mouth for good. His own nerve was betraying him.
"Morning," mumbled Harry as he rolled over and hid his head under the pillow. His arse was momentarily raised up in a stretching move that looked suspiciously preplanned.
"Good morning," drawled Severus. The last night's panic had passed, but his shirt needed washing, and he most certainly needed a bath too. He decided to get rid of the boy as soon as possible. He then remembered that this was the one wish that never worked.
It will soon.
No.
"Nice little moments," murmured Harry. A ridiculous grin was splashed across his face. "Waking up late and having someone gawk at you."
He was not. Gawking. At him.
Not bloody likely.
"You'd wish. I was merely studying the source of my bad lack." Was that the best you could do? "Looking at you makes me wonder if you're even worth of all the trouble I'm getting into." There.
Harry scrunched his face and with an impressively quick move he pulled the pillow from under his head and attempted to strike him. Severus dodged it before it hit him in the ribs; he hadn't had a pillow fight in decades, and he wasn't going to now. Harry giggled as he landed the pillow on his and attempted to repeat it just as Severus dodged again and yanked the pillow violently from him and tossed it away. Harry was going for the other pillow when Severus curled his hand around his wrist and pinned him down. There was another moment of giggling; then Harry's smile faded into something else. Seriousness.
Stupid little shit. Severus allowed himself a second of battling between leaving this prison in silence and granting Harry a last smirk of triumph. Apparently, one second was too much.
"You know I'm not buying it, and ah–" Severus tightened his grip. Potter grinned. "And I know you've been gawking at me. Why do you like to pretend you're an arsehole when you could just be nice to me?"
Severus smirked. "Nice little moments."
"I'm not buying it," Harry said again. Damn his impossible stubbornness. Severus let go of his hand and strode off to the bathroom. After he'd emptied his bladder and spared himself a moment to look at the mirror, he returned to the main room only to see the boy sleep again.
"It's almost noon," he snarled.
And was ignored.
"Potter?" All for the best. His face was buried in the pillow again, which was now being straddled and hugged. Child.
Absolutely.
Insufferable.
Child.
He shrug off his thoughts and fought off the sudden impulse to shout at the boy's ear just to see him jump up in terror. There was a time he'd enjoy that. He'd still do.
Then, a murmur. "Come back to bed."
Severus furrowed his brows. His heart jumped out of his chest and he was reminded or the reasons he learnt the unforgivable curses so long ago.
His stomach lurched at the boy's sleepy face as he struggled to focus his eyes without those damned glasses on. It occurred to him that Potter looked happy.
Potter.
A chuckle was muffled on the pillow and he rolled on his back, covering his eyes with a hand. "I bet you look scared."
He was not. Scared.
He was nauseated. Outraged. Sick.
Late.
"I'm leaving. Do try to not spend the rest of your day lazing like a fool."
Harry laughed. "Yeah. Have a nice day too."
Despite himself, Severus didn't manage to be annoyed.
