Part 2: Harry
* Sweet 17, sour 29
And I can't explain myself
What I'd hoped to find
You were all so kind
When I was near
…*
I used to be…I don't know. I don't even know that anymore. But it was better than this. It had to have been. Almost thirty. God, how could I have let this happen? How could I have let my eyes close? One blink. All one blink. One moment unobserved and Ron is dead at my feet. One glance in the other direction, and Hermione joins him. I don't know. I don't know. How can a human life, two lives, all hang upon one…
I can't think of it anymore. It doesn't matter that it's summer. I barely held myself together when the students were here, and if I let myself fall apart now, I'll never…
This is ridiculous. Why can't I finish a simple thought? Memories, nightmares drag on and on, hell bent on reaching an end if only to start over again to torment me. Why can't I finish a thought? There's Peeves. Shit, my eyes…
Only, how did he know? I didn't even know until he whispered it into my ear. I was only a boy. No, I was seventeen. Sometimes, I think he might have guessed. Might have seen my blush when they stripped the tortured man of his robes. "I'm going to kill this man," Voldemort hissed into my ear. Even out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ron and Hermione straining to listen. "You will hear him being ripped apart," Voldemort whispered. I kept wondering why he didn't sound pleased. Not even amused. "I know, Harry. You love him, don't you?" I couldn't say no. I couldn't shake my head. Why? I didn't love him, not then. I couldn't…
"I'm going to make him scream in ways you never could," Voldemort smiled. I knew he was guessing. I knew, and he was wrong. I'd never made the man scream in anything other than rage. "And if you so much as look in his direction, your friends are dead," Voldemort warned. He didn't sound amused. Only curious. Or disappointed. Or…
I looked. I couldn't stop myse…I looked. Professor Snape was crying, sobbing, and I remember that I wanted to smile for him. Congratulate him on feeling…
I looked and my two best friends were dead at my feet. I looked again and I was in the hospital. I still don't remember where the scars…
I looked again and now I'm nearly thirty. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. No lesson about the betrayal I…
The students that left yesterday were all lovely. I cry every night at their beauty. I mean it, so beautiful. Even when they're little girls, running away from whoever just broke their heart. Beautiful. Severus is beautiful. No, he's not beautiful. He's…
Where am I? I mean, where am I going? Why is it that I always end up in the dungeons, every time I'm running away from…
Where the fuck is he? I know that part of our arrangment includes the avoidance of expectations, but doesn't he know by now that on Sundays…
* And if you're still feeling down
Then maybe you need me around
To love and hold you
Don't say I hadn't told you so
Maybe you need me around…*
"Potter," he says. It means hello, coming from him. At least at night. I can't think about what my name means for everyone else. In fact, I can ignore every meaning but this one. This one, and the one that comes from Albus Dumbledore. That one is pity. Pity, for a broken toy. He stuffs potions and pills into his toy's ripped mouth, pulls the string on the toy's back and if the sentence comes out complete and intelligible, he pats me on my head, puts me on the shelf, and no more pity until I'm caught mumbling to myself again, or seen digging my nails into my eyelids. Then it's back to the binding. Only for a night, he whispers, only for a night, to make sure you don't…
"Are you ok?" I asked him. Severus's hip has been acting up for days. And he sounds sad. So sad and…
"Severus?" God, why isn't he looking at me? What have I done? But I can't ask…
"Did you have a nightmare last night? You know I wish you'd let me stay some…"
"Potter, how many times have I told you? No. No, you will not sleep here. No, I don't need you to come and comfort me. I am not some wounded bird that needs to be nursed back to health. Just because you came out unscathed in the end doesn't mean it's your responsibility to heal all wounds," he snaps. Blind. Blind. Albus said he was but…
No, Severus is right. I'm unscathed. Dumbledore is a liar. I've always known. He tries to make me think I'm ill just so he can control me. That's why he never sends me off, back to the hospital. That's why none of the staff knows that…That's why he doesn't tell anybody about the nights when he pumps me full of drugs and secures my arms to my bed. It's not healing. It's not medicine meant to exorcise any demons or fight off any nightmares. Post-traumatic stress? Severus just said it, there was no trauma! Not for me! And I've been worrying for nothing. Dumbledore just wants me to stay dependent on him. Because he's dependent on me. Yes, he's…
"I know it's not my responsibility, but I still want to help you," I answer. Look at Severus. Why doesn't Albus help him? He's always complaining about the leg. And he loses his breath very easy, since his lung was…
"I don't need your damned help," he growls. "The only thing you are good for is entertainment."
"Why are you so angry with me?" I can't believe I asked! He's going to hit…
"Because Dumbledore pulled me aside today, again," he snaps. Fucking Dumbledore. Why does he never…
"What did he say this time?" I sigh.
"More of this 'Ask Harry' shite. So Potter, do you have anything to confess to me? Because Albus seems to think that I'm being horribly unfair to you. He seems to think that I'm damaging your precious little mind," Severus sneers.
"I honestly don't know what the Headmaster is talking about," I answer. "Maybe he wishes that you'd let me sleep here?"
"What is it that you wish, Potter?" It's a trick, I know it is.
"I wish for you to be happy. You've always known that, Severus. If you can't be happy with me as a friend, than I'm fine with you being happy with me the way things stand."
"So gallant of you, Potter," he smiles. A smile! "So chivalrous. The Boy Who Lived, lowering himself to become nothing but a common whore. I'd ask why you do it to yourself, but then you might get the impression that I care."
"You do care, Severus," I whisper. "But I don't need you to say it."
"I'm sorry, Harry," he sighs. Finally. I knew something was wrong. "You do infuriate me, you know that don't you?"
"Yes," I answer.
"I just wish you'd stop playing around. We both agreed that this is not some sentimental love affair. We agreed that…I don't understand what Albus is going on about though! Have you been complaining about me to him?"
"No, I'd have no reason to," I answer. Honest. But I feel the shiver waving over my heart. It always stings so…I wish Severus would stop talking. I know I'm meant to be supporting him, loving and holding him and pretending, for his sake, that he doesn't need me. But I can't think about what he needs from me right now. I need him to either fuck me until I can't think anymore, or I need to fly out to the forest again. God, and those potions! Dumbledore promised, but I haven't been able to get hard all week. No side effects, he promised. He's trying to keep us apart, I know it. He wants me to…
"Because if you have, then we can stop-"
"No!" I shout. I have to save him, have to make him stop sobbing, don't cry Severus, please don't cry, you're hurting him you bastard, blood, all that blood, just don't rip out his heart, I know he pretends not to need it, but he does, he does, God, don't cry Severus, I know it hurts but I'm going to save you, don't say "Harry" like that, I'm fine, how dare you worry about me, it doesn't hurt, there is no fire, you're dreaming Severus, I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine, I'm here to help you, I'mfineI'mfine, you're bleeding, no I'm not bleeding too, I'm unscathed, I'm perfect, I have to be perfect for you, yes, I know, their dead, it's not your fault, it's mine, it's mine but I need to be perfect for you for you…
"Because, whatever we are or are not to each other, we promised that we'd stop if either of us was getting hurt," he continues. God, is he saying that I hurt him? I didn't mean to hurt him. I never meant to…what have I done now? Have I failed again? Did I look the other way?
"But neither of us are hurt, are we?" I ask. He's staring. He's staring at me, looking for an answer. Or does he want me to apologize for…
"Let's get started," he whispers. Whispers, and eyes, eyes. God, I'm so hard. Maybe the drugs have warn off. Thank you so much. I promise…oh he's so fucking beautiful. These moments, it's so hard not to cry. But if I cry he might think I'm upset with him, and that would hurt him. Or maybe he'd think that whatever Dumbledore has been hinting at is true. And that would hurt him more, knowing that the Headmaster thinks Severus has been taking advantage of the broken orphan boy. Severus needs Albus to believe in him, and I'm not going to fuck that up for anything.
"What do you want, Harry?" he asks, like I can think when his tongue is…when his cock is…
"You know what I want, Severus," I moan. God he tastes like juniper smells. He looks like snow. I burn my tongue when I lick his…
"You want whatever makes me happy?" he sighs. I wish I could understand why he sounds so sad. Am I boring him? Or maybe he wants to make me happy tonight. Maybe he…no, he can't lo…
"Always," I answer. His skin, God, his skin, where's the zipper, I want to crawl in. I've seen it split open, I've seen him sob, I can make him sob from being so happy, that's what I owe him, every thing every thing…
"What would make you happy?" he asks. How can I be so full? How can I…
"Moan like that again," he grunts, pushing my hands further into the mattress and licking up my spine.
"Please Sev, please," and he's in me and it's so perfect and I'm too small for him, he needs something immense, it's the only thing that he could fill, immense, he needs to find heaven in me and he can't he can't ever find it in me, nothing infinite can live in me, and I can cry because my face is pushed against the mattress, and if he sees he'll think they're for joy, for the joy of him, but I feel so guilty, so guilty that I can never be enough for him, we're all supposed to be god like everything is god and he's coming he's coming, it's supposed to be pouring god into god but I can't be that for him because I killed god in me when I looked at him, when I looked back and failed him, failed them too, and even this, even this won't make up for it…
"What's wrong?" he asks. Shit, I'm limp. I'm dry and I've lost it and he'll see it as his failure, not mine, it's mine.
"Nothing's wrong," I pant. "You're hip must be better if you could do that." He smiles. But he won't let me stay. We tried it once, but he said I kept waking him with my dreams. He looked so uncomfortable that morning that I thought that was it. I was out. But he still lets me come at night and I'm so grateful because I would probably die if I couldn't make him happy. And it was probably his nightmare that kept him up. Why else would he look so embarrassed? Mortified to be fucking the person giving him nightmares, but he doesn't see that's why I need to…
"I'll see you later," I say, rolling out of bed.
"Good night, Harry."