King of Pain Part 2 (see 1 for warnings and the like)
There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall
There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
There's a blue whale beached by a springtide's ebb
There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web
Severus shakes, his hand clenched tightly around the wadded up paper. He sits at his desk trying to grade paper unable to let go of the painful parchment. He's already combusted several other similar affronts, and nothing he did seemed to stop it. Every detention he handed out today was responded to with even more giggling and insulting scribbles. The quill he's using snaps under the strain streaking black ink over the essay of a third year Hufflepuff. His eyes blink back the red haze swirling around his vision. He throws down the broken quill taking his wand screaming "Incendio" at the small mountain of confiscated doodles watching with satisfaction as the pile bursts into flames. He doesn't spare a second glance at the crinkled ball in his hand as he hurls it into the fire. Various images of a crudely drawn caricature swim through his head followed by the completely unapologetic look in the eyes of the culprits. After nearly twenty years of teaching, his students finally have leverage over him. It's gone, he realizes casting a soft dousing spell sinking to his knees in front of the pile of ash. He locked the door the classroom after the last class he had that day hoping he could vent in peace.
The anger however wasn't what satisfied him. Feeling the bile rising in the back of his throat and forcing it back down with a painful swallow, he realizes there's only one truly satisfying thing, and already he knows he'll be visiting the bathroom for a second time today. There used to be two lovely little vices, but the carefully acquired control over his students is gone. Wiped out by a well meaning Potter and a photograph he should have thrown out years ago. He could feel it going down as surely as the bread which stuck in his throat at lunch. Harry had assumed that incident was a result of his palette being unaccustomed to the doughy bread the house elves had cooked up in celebration to end the contest. In the end of course he'd only had that experimental nibble and some of the soup before he excused himself. Before he had left Harry tried to ease some of the tension inquiring about his general lack of mirth during the party. "Of course I'm enjoying myself Mister Potter. I regularly take pleasure in continued humiliation." He'd taken a sip of tea finding the low calorie warmth relaxing. Harry sighed speaking softly and discreetly.
"I thought we settled this last night."
"Had you been thinking Mister Potter," he murmured back reluctantly taking a small bite of a watercress sandwich, "I don't believe we would be having this conversation now would we?"
Severus hadn't eaten any more of the soup. The watery broth reminded him too closely of the vile substance Lucius had managed to "whip up" in his kitchen without the aid of house elves, or apparently a cook book. The black hair young man had taken a few reluctant spoonfuls and wished he was back in the bathroom. The memory was neither pleasant not painful. The good intentions of the gesture far outweighed the vile taste. And his gray eyed friend sitting on his chest far outweighed any effort he made to flee.
"Really... you can leave... I'll eat it," he protested as the hated spoon hovered in front of his face. He turned his head to the side, only to have the silver utensil move with him. He clamped his mouth shut and the spoon hovered patiently. Lucius rolled his eyes and held Severus' nose shut.
"Look at it this way. You get better. No more of my cooking." He was forced to gasp out a breath after awhile and the spoon seizing its chance flew into his open mouth. Swallowing he cursed trying to move the dead weight from his body.
"See, now if you weren't so thin and malnourished... maaaaybe you'd be able to move me."
"Dammit Lucius get off of me you're heavy!"
"And you're not heavy enough. Keep eating." Severus glared, his sunken eyes looking up indignantly. Lucius said nothing, only motioned with his wand for the charmed spoon to continue with its mission. The spoon hovered this time only a moment before Severus opened his mouth letting himself be fed.
Shaken from the memory by a small commotion, he'd chosen that moment to glance over and noticed that even at his table of "faithful" Slytherins, the chuckles and misbegotten limericks were no better than at any other. He drank his tea forcing the half chewed mass down his throat almost laughing at the irony. All this effort to get it down in the first place, why am I even bothering? Feigning a headache and rattling off a few vague apologies, he stood up and left. Not surprisingly Harry had followed him at a proper interval, and as his sallow, sweaty face hung above the wavering toilet water, he heard the banging on the door start.
"What do you want Mister Potter?" he queried feeling tired. He didn't bother to move simply letting each louder succession of pounding exacerbate his headache.
"S- Professor please open the door!" Severus quietly cast a binding spell to hold his hair back and rolled up his sleeves. "Are you sick?! I can go get Madam Pomfrey if you're ill!"
"It's not necessary Mister Potter. I am not in fact 'ill'. More pounding on the door, and realizing he was getting nowhere fast, Severus undid the locking spell and resumed his position. Almost falling through the now open door, Harry regained his balance. And stared.
"S- I... Professor? I thought you said you weren't ill." He turned his head back down to the bowl, nausea warring with irritation.
"I am not in the conventional sense Mister Potter, however I might add that your Gryffindor stupidity is making me somewhat nauseous." Nonplussed, Harry leaned against the bathroom wall still staring.
"You seem to be under the impression that I require an audience for this." Harry sighed.
"Really Sev..."
"Professor Snape."
"Fine, 'Professor Snape.' You act as if I'd never seen anyone vomit before." There was a pregnant pause before the older man sat back on his heels, the bridge of his nose pinched between thumb and forefinger in annoyance when it appeared Harry wasn't going to venture anything further.
"Well, would you care to enlighten me 'Holmes'?" Sliding his hands behind his back into a relaxed posture that in any other circumstance would have earned him a "five points from Gryffindor, Harry merely looked at him.
"I know you're not big on Quiddich Professor, but all the guys on the team used to do it." Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Not me I mean... You know how the Dursleys were. I'd sooner get hit with a bludger than miss a meal."
"Of course, 'The Boy Who Lived to Eat the World' that last article in the Daily Prophet read I believe?" Harry gave a snort.
"Really, they photograph me with my face all grotty at that charity dinner for once looking healthy, and all of a sudden that." He stopped realizing that Snape had succeeded in breaking him off on a tangent.
"Are you going to get on with it? I don't want to stand here all day, and we both still have classes to teach."
"Mister Potter, do you harbor some secret fetish with regards to me emptying the contents of my stomach into a large porcelain bowl? Perhaps I ought to bottle it in a jar for you to enjoy later." Harry blinked then shuddered.
"Oh Merlin... you just killed the last of my hormones." He rubbed at his eyes as if the action would banish the images his imagination had conjured up." Severus smirked.
"You ruin my fun, I ruin yours. Now if you will be so kind as to tell me why it is the Gryffindor Quiddich team finds it necessary to emulate my... behavior, then I will indeed finish my 'business' and we can both forget about it."
"You know," Harry started, as if he weren't explaining it to a man who most certainly knew exactly what the whole thing was about, "to keep weight down. I mean you can't fly too fast on a broom if your big as a house. I used to watch the door for Oliver sometimes when he'd go at it. He said it helps to flush out your system." Severus turned his face to hide a look of sadness that something like that had been allowed to go on and made a note to inform Minerva to keep a stricter watch. Of course his own team would soon be facing a similar scrutiny. Yes, he definitely felt sick again, though for an entirely different reason.
"I see," was his neutral answer.
"Sev?"
"Mister Potter, need I remind you it is highly inappropriate to use my name so familiarly in public?" Harry sighed smacking his hand against the wall looking annoyed.
"Jesus Christ, I'm getting sick of this! Isn't it bad enough you call me 'Mister Potter' in bed?!"
"I simply prefer to maintain a proper sense of decorum."
"And throwing up your lunch is?" he muttered.
"I rolled up my sleeves didn't I?" Harry said nothing as Severus stuck a long finger down his throat.
There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out
There's a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt
There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed
There's a skeleton choking on a crust of bread
"Sev..." He groans rolling over, sunken eyes blinking away the sun. Squinting, thinning black hair falls in front of his face as he pushes it away. To Harry his appearance remains unchanged, but only because the glamour he cast holds so well. Whenever he himself looks in the mirror, he can see the beginnings of bare patches where the hair has fallen out. His teeth had never been a model of dentistry, but now, permanently changed, one or two wiggle, no longer able to hold on. He turns to the younger man in his bed almost wanted to slap the inane oblivious grin from his face. It's still not right what the mirror shows. Not that he should be a model but the skin is still hanging. He can almost feel it when he moves and it makes him cringe. he hadn't been aware until those months ago that he let himself go to pot so terribly. He glances irritably at Harry. Damn Potter. It's all his fault, just because he doesn't care he's gained an ungodly amount of weight doesn't mean he has to make me as fat as he is. The irrational thought stings at his conscience and he allows himself to be drawn into an embrace tentatively returning it.
"Mmm... not in the mood again?" is muttered into his shoulder. He tenses. Damn that tasteless joke of his about a teaspoon of semen being five calories. The knowledge itself hadn't put him off, rather the flippant tone it was delivered with.
He pushes Harry away.
"If I recall correctly Mister Potter," Snape begins as he slips off the edge of the bed. "A certain someone remarked he didn't want my tongue on his precious pristine arse even after I assured him I brushed my teeth." Severus goes to his closet carefully choosing an outfit.
"Really, I was only joking Sev-" Snape glares. "-Professor Snape." Harry finishes tersely rolling out of bed.
"Need I remind you Mister Potter," he remarks from beneath a fresh white shirt, "That the contents expelled from this orifice are most certainly more sanitary than the contents expelled from that orifice." Harry blanches and turns to dress himself.
"God... do you want me to have to join you in the bathroom? No one can kill wood faster than you can." That draws a hidden smirk from the older man as he attends to his socks and shoes forcing himself to work through the morning dizziness. Oh I'm sure Mister Wood will do a fine job of killing himself one of these days. The thought sobers him somewhat into a frightening moment of clarity. Lucius isn't here this time to bail him out if he takes it too far. No, no that won't be a problem this time because he's in perfect control. He doesn't trust the brush to make a clean sweep through his hair without pulling more of his thinning locks along. He casts a simple cleaning spell instead careful not to let the glamour slip. he avoids letting his eyes linger on the mirror's image.
"I suppose being late for breakfast isn't high on your list of concerns?" Harry quickly brushes his hair and wipes his glasses off on a somewhat clean looking cloth. The room, while nowhere near a pig sty has acquired the occasional carelessly tossed article of clothing around making it look "lived in". "Aunt Petunia made me keep the house like it museum. It was so sterile, it reminded me of the hospital wing I hated it." The black haired man tosses a worn sock from his dresser and frowns.
"I'm not holding you prisoner Mister Potter. though I dare say you could afford to miss a meal or two."
"Oh please, we've been through this before. I like myself just as I am, and you admitted as much when we got together after the war."
"That was thirty pounds ago Mister Potter..." Severus begins, only to find himself cut off by a soft mouth on his and warm arms around his thin shoulders.
"Shuttup Professor. You..." He trails his lips to the man's neck. "Know..." Harry's hands slide to the too thin waist, mind unable to reconcile the eyes report of the body's health with the hands telling it the waist is far too thin. His mind trusts only what it sees. "You..." Green eyes look at him playfully. "...love it." His younger lover settles for a final kiss before letting go. The soft murmur of "brat" has long lost its baiting power and earns him a chuckle as he rechecks the glamour. He only sees himself because he's aware of the charm's presence. Harry's lack of revulsion reveals that it is indeed still holding.
It's with great relief therefore that he enters the Dining Hall a few minutes after Harry. No one notes the separate entrance. The first years tend to stop watching Hogwart's worst kept secret after the first few weeks of either figuring it out or being told. Nonetheless, the ritual has endure the last two years out of habit. He takes a seat not surprised to find Harry nearly finished with his breakfast. He's recently gotten into the habit of simply picking off of the other's plate and today is no different. The eggs slide down his throat leaving a bitter taste and a warm and disgusting trail of run off yolk. The steak was the first culinary item to disappear and Snape doesn't miss it. He ignores the usual chatter around the faculty table until Minerva loudly recounts to Albus an inane muggle nursery rhyme which has him nearly bend the fork in two.
"Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean. Ad so between the both of them they licked the platter clean." He shakes, keeping his face as impassive as possible. His lips are white with anger though as he holds them shut. He looks at her frostily.
"Yes amusing. Next time you have an urge to banter about inane muggle poetry, maybe you and the headmaster can go play 'The Owl and the Pussycat' on your own time."
"Brilliant suggestion Severus!" the old man twinkles unfazed. Shameless old... He coughs when he feels an elbow discreetly in his side. Had he said that aloud? He looks to Harry and realizes he had. Of course, the two in question have left anyway. He stands as well.
"If you're quite finished Mister Potter..." Harry sighs wiping his mouth off.
"Yeah I know. Guard duty." Harry stands nonetheless reaching for one last biscuit.
"Are you or are you not the one who suggested we spend more time together?"
"Yeah but S-"
"And if I may also quote your beloved muggles when they say 'you know it's love if he holds your hair back while you're throwing up." Harry chokes on the slice of cinnamon bread he's just taken a bite of.
"Oh... I know that is not what they had in mind!" Snape smirks giving him a patronizing pat on the back after the fact.
"Yes well, be that as it may, I do require your services..."
"Oh fine." He sets down the half eaten roll. "At least it'll shut you up" Snape shrugs as he walks down the hallway.
"We can't all have pettifour pacifiers Mister Potter." Harry keeps pace with his lover's brisk walk whispering softly,
"I'm sure we could find something to put in your mouth." The potions master opens the door checking for people.
"You forget the new sexual harassment policies in effect. Ever since-"
"Ever since a certain nameless greasy haired git filed a formal complaint against my godfather for 'exposing himself'... Really you should have been flattered. He told me you had it bad for him since fifth year..."
Snape opens a stall door casting a brief cleaning spell on the floor.
"And you remember how well that defense held up in court now don't you." He kneels and hears the soft thud of Harry's back against the door once the locking spell is cast. He can see Harry frown despite facing away.
"I'm still mad at you for that Professor. You got him fired..." Snape rolls up his sleeves pulling his hair back carefully.
"And just see how broken up I am about it." Black got what he deserved. Even if it was blown out of proportion, Snape hadn't forgotten the day twenty five years ago when the handsome fifteen year old taunted him mercilessly about that damn shrieking shack incident. Lucius, worried that the taunts might have caused him to backslide took it upon himself to settle that incident. Even today, he can't believe that Lucius had stooped to the Gryffindor level and initiated a common fist fight. Head hovering over the bowl, Severus smiles at the memory of smug Sirius Black getting his eye blackened by "Pretty boy Malfoy." Merlin how he misses that man sometimes.
"Are you finished yet?" Harry's voice interrupts him and he sighs. No need to disappoint his audience.