Chapter Three
Oh, Imperious empathy!
As they sat there in awkward silence, Harry fought the urge to find something to put on the cut on his professor's face, which was obviously bothering the wizard. Severus, due to his wedged shoulder, could not reach the superficial injury even well enough to wipe away the blood. It was nothing more than a nuisance. Harry, on the other hand, had successfully fended off the Imperious Curse before, but had little experience with quashing his own feelings of empathy or compassion. He finally sighed and gave up.
Snape was a bit startled when Harry left his seat and went over to a cauldron of lukewarm distilled water wherein he dipped a ragged piece of cloth, wrung it out, and glanced over his shoulder at the professor. Severus was certain of what the boy was going to do before Potter even knelt next to him on the cold stone floor. He closed his eyes as Harry dabbed at the minute injury. The sensation of itching and tickling faded and ceased.
As Harry continued to wipe away the dust and grime that coated Snape's skin, his eyelids flickered. For a moment Harry stopped what he was doing, startled by his proximity to Snape and afraid that he was going to receive a severe dressing down. But the professor didn't say anything. He didn't even open his eyes. Severus was afraid to open his eyes and look at the boy.
When Harry had cleaned him up passably well, he started to move away, but Snape caught him by the elbow with his free hand and opened his dark eyes.
"Your mother ... you are so much like her." Snape blurted out before he could stop himself.
"My mother, professor?"
"Lily ... she was Madam Pomfrey's assistant for a time. She always treated all the students alike, even Slytherin, even me."
"I never knew that." said Harry quietly.
"It's just the potion talking, you know." whispered Snape, releasing Harry's arm.
"Well, thanks for telling me just the same." said Harry as he returned to his seat.
An uncomfortable silence fell between that both wanted to break and yet left intact. Harry was trying his best to remember that this man was his enemy, a man of uncertain loyalties, who had made his life and that of his friends far more difficult than it otherwise would have been. Snape restrained himself from saying anything and kept his eyes on the wall, or what was left of it, knowing that if he spoke, he would regret his words, would regret anything he might to say to Harry in his current state of mind.
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A/N: Yeah, I know. I took some pretty big liberties with the past. Anyhow, I want to thank everyone who reviewed: Mr. X, Steph, Aurelius, snapefan51, Zardiphillian Beryllix, and Tantz!
Oh, Imperious empathy!
As they sat there in awkward silence, Harry fought the urge to find something to put on the cut on his professor's face, which was obviously bothering the wizard. Severus, due to his wedged shoulder, could not reach the superficial injury even well enough to wipe away the blood. It was nothing more than a nuisance. Harry, on the other hand, had successfully fended off the Imperious Curse before, but had little experience with quashing his own feelings of empathy or compassion. He finally sighed and gave up.
Snape was a bit startled when Harry left his seat and went over to a cauldron of lukewarm distilled water wherein he dipped a ragged piece of cloth, wrung it out, and glanced over his shoulder at the professor. Severus was certain of what the boy was going to do before Potter even knelt next to him on the cold stone floor. He closed his eyes as Harry dabbed at the minute injury. The sensation of itching and tickling faded and ceased.
As Harry continued to wipe away the dust and grime that coated Snape's skin, his eyelids flickered. For a moment Harry stopped what he was doing, startled by his proximity to Snape and afraid that he was going to receive a severe dressing down. But the professor didn't say anything. He didn't even open his eyes. Severus was afraid to open his eyes and look at the boy.
When Harry had cleaned him up passably well, he started to move away, but Snape caught him by the elbow with his free hand and opened his dark eyes.
"Your mother ... you are so much like her." Snape blurted out before he could stop himself.
"My mother, professor?"
"Lily ... she was Madam Pomfrey's assistant for a time. She always treated all the students alike, even Slytherin, even me."
"I never knew that." said Harry quietly.
"It's just the potion talking, you know." whispered Snape, releasing Harry's arm.
"Well, thanks for telling me just the same." said Harry as he returned to his seat.
An uncomfortable silence fell between that both wanted to break and yet left intact. Harry was trying his best to remember that this man was his enemy, a man of uncertain loyalties, who had made his life and that of his friends far more difficult than it otherwise would have been. Snape restrained himself from saying anything and kept his eyes on the wall, or what was left of it, knowing that if he spoke, he would regret his words, would regret anything he might to say to Harry in his current state of mind.
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A/N: Yeah, I know. I took some pretty big liberties with the past. Anyhow, I want to thank everyone who reviewed: Mr. X, Steph, Aurelius, snapefan51, Zardiphillian Beryllix, and Tantz!