Chapter 7
Harry Potter poked listlessly at the treacle tart on his plate. The taste was brilliant, almost as good as the ones the house elves at Hogwarts made, but something was missing - something -
Severus Snape strode into the Ministry dining room and Harry felt his spirits leap.
Someone he knew!
Quickly he stood.
"Professor Snape?" Harry called, waving. He was so bored, so lonely, even Snape was better than nothing. Anyway, the greasy git had to like him a little better, after all- he'd saved his life.
Severus glanced around and sighed. Potter, it had to be Potter. On what was rapidly becoming the most confusing day of his disaster of a life. He paused a moment in thought. Or re-life, or un-life, or whatever in the bloody hell he was currently experiencing.
"Why, Mr. Potter, are you concealing yourself in this rather dim corner?" Snape sneered as he walked toward the table. "When you could be showing yourself to all and sundry in the grand dining hall upstairs?"
Harry grimaced and took a bite of his tart. He'd forgotten- his father had saved Snape's life too, and look where it got him.
"They all keep staring at me," he said at last. He glanced around to make sure they were alone.
"They treat me like a freak."
Despite his recent upsetting discussion with Albus, the man felt a glimmer of humour tickle him at the boy's innocence. Snape stared at him, one eyebrow arched. "Perhaps, Mr. Potter, they are simply waiting to see if your chicken gets up off the plate and begins to cluck."
Harry choked on his tart.
A joke! Snape had made a joke.
After a frantic coughing spell he glared at the professor.
"I don't do chickens, only snakes."
For a moment he thought he had gone too far. Snape's face tightened and his hands gripped the table's edge. It took the boy another second to realize the truth- it was a sham; the potions master was trying his best not to burst into laughter.
The attempt failed, and Severus Snape chortled out loud.
"It seems you do have a mind under all of that hair, Potter," the man said. His smile quickly faded. He tapped his wand on the table and a house elf appeared.
"What would Mr. Snape be wanting for dinner?" the elf asked.
"The usual Binny," Snape said, "Tea, cold chicken, and a pudding of some sort."
The elf nodded and blinked away.
Harry studied the older man curiously; this was the longest time they had spent together since their escape from Voldemort. The weeks had not been kind to the potions master. His thin frame had grown steadily more gaunt, his shallow skin more yellowed as the days passed.
"Are you all right Professor?" asked Harry. "You look, well - " He gestured hopelessly.
"Bloody awful," Snape finished.
Harry could only gape at the profanity as Binny returned, setting the professor's plate before him and disappearing.
Snape toyed with his dinner.
"Why are you down here anyway?" Harry asked. "I thought you ate with Professor Dumbledore?"
An unreadable look crossed the man's face, and he slowly shook his head. "If it were any of your business, Potter, I would tell you that I have been eating alone in my rooms since we arrived."
"Why?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Has it occurred to you, Mr. Potter, that perhaps I too have been the object of unwanted attention?" Snape sneered. "For some unfathomable reason, others seem to have a fascination for what it feels like to be dead." He stabbed viciously at his chicken.
Harry looked down. "I'm sorry."
Snape shook his head. "Don't be sorry, you foolish boy. It's not as if you could have asked for a by your leave."
Harry said quietly, "Was it terrible?"
Snape looked at him, his eyes black and fathoms deep. "I was at peace."
Harry shuddered. "Your life is that bad?"
"You don't want to know about my life, Mr. Potter," Snape said.
"Does it help," Harry asked cautiously, "Does it help knowing that Professor Dumbledore, uh, cares for you?"
Snape's fork clattered to the plate.
"How dare you, Mr. Potter," Snape snarled. He stood, pushing his chair back from the table. "I was foolish to believe we could have a conversation."
"But I - "
"That will be quite enough," said Snape. Without another word he aparated.
"Bloody hell," said Harry.
Later that evening
Severus Snape twisted in his chair, trying to find a comfortable spot to peruse the latest copy of "Potent Potions and Their Uses."
"Damn Albus and Potter both to hell," he muttered softly.
There was a knock at the chamber door.
"Go away," Snape said loudly.
"It's me Professor," came the voice of Harry Potter.
"In that case, go away Potter," Snape said.
The door opened and Harry Potter stepped inside.
"I needed to speak to you."
Severus sighed. "Since it obviously does not matter that I do not wish to speak to you, by all means, go ahead."
Harry seated himself in the soft, squashy chair next to the potions master and said, "I wasn't trying to pry you know."
Snape shook his head. "It does not matter what you were trying to do, Mr. Potter. It is none of your business." His thin fingers caressed his wand.
"I was just wondering if it's easier to bear, knowing someone else loves you."
Snape grimaced. "If what is easier to bear you idiot boy?"
"The pain," Harry said.
Snape stared at him with hatred in his eyes. "What would you know of pain, Potter? Loosing your mummy and daddy? Don't be surprised if I do not weep."
"I was talking about what Voldemort did to you, when you were younger," Harry said. The murderous look on Snape's face told him that his shot in the dark had gone home.
"I do not wish to discuss this with you," Snape said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Now get out."
"You aren't the only one it's happened to," Harry said softly.
Severus felt his mouth grow dry. He tried to swallow and his throat gave a miserable click.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Snape rasped out.
"I was eight the first time my Uncle pulled me into the attic while Aunt Petunia and Dudley were at the grocer's," Harry said.
Snape stared at him in bewilderment. "Your Uncle?"
"At first I thought he was going to beat me again," the boy shrugged. "Then I wished he had."
Snape leaned back and closed his eyes.
"I thought I was going to bleed to death," Harry said. "For a week I had to keep a towel down the back of my drawers." The boy laughed, "It was the first time I was ever glad I had to wear Dudley's old pants; there was so much material no one noticed a little more."
"You said the first time," Snape said. "There were more?"
Harry smiled sadly. "Too many times to count."
The older man shook his head, "And he beat you?"
"Sometimes he would hit me during, "Harry said, "Other times he just hit me." The boy looked down. "That's why I wondered, does it get easier, if you know someone else loves you?"
Snape passed a hand over his lips.
"I don't know," he said.
Harry looked at him quizzically.
"I was sixteen when I became a Death Eater," Severus said, "And seventeen when I crawled back to Dumbledore and begged him to take me in."
"But he loved you," Harry said.
"He never told me that," Snape replied. "He comforted me when my mother died, healed me when my father began to beat me, but he never said he loved me. I wouldn't have known what he meant if he did."
"But why else would he have made the effort?" Harry said.
"You heard him in that dungeon," Snape said. "He wanted me." The man pushed his hair back from his face, looking far older than his years. "From what you have just told me, you of all people should understand, Mr. Potter. The strong take what they want, there are simply better and worse ways to do it."
Harry laid a small hand on the man's arm. "But he said he'd never touched you like that."
"He did not," Snape said. He began to say more, then closed his mouth firmly.
"Well it seems to me that if he only wanted to shag you, he could have done it any time he wanted," Harry said.
Snape looked at him, clearly perplexed. "What are you going on about Potter?"
"I do understand, Professor," Harry said. "You're afraid Professor Dumbledore is like Voldemort, aren't you?"
Severus' shallow skin seemed to lose all color, becoming a shroud wrapping his bones. "I do not understand someone who could want a child," he said softly. "Albus has been many thing to me over the years, more than you will ever know. How can I look at him, knowing he could do that to a child?" He smoothed his hands repetitively over the wood of the table, obscurely calmed by the gesture.
"Do what to a child, exactly?" said Harry.
"I don't know why I'm talking to you Potter," Snape said, "But there's no one else is there? People don't exactly line up to give me a bit of tea and hear my sad tale of woe." He laughed. "But fool that you are, you are here, and you have asked, so I will tell you." He laughed again and stared at the boy. "I imagine you will enjoy telling Granger and Weasley all about your evil potions master's final breakdown."
Harry shook his head. "I won't be telling anyone, and you know it. Now, what do you think Professor Dumbledore wanted to do to you? To hurt you? Is that why you're not together now?" He looked at the man expectantly.
Snape closed his eyes and muttered "He wanted me, he still wants me. How could he want me? How could he want to do that to me? He says it's different, but - "
Harry blushed and looked down. "It doesn't always hurt you know."
Snape's head jerked up and he stared at the boy.
"I knew there had to be more to it, or people wouldn't be gay," Harry said sheepishly. "So I asked Fred-n-George to show me." He blushed more deeply, tripping over his words. "I mean, they like girls and everything, but I knew they had and so I asked."
Snape said quietly, "And what did you discover, Mr. Potter?" For once there was no menace, no sarcasm, dripping from his words.
"It was brilliant!" Harry smiled, and then laughed, "After the first bit where George squashed my legs and I kicked Fred in the head on accident."
The man had to smile at the image.
"It didn't hurt at all," Harry said, "And the snuggling was nice, even if Fred snores."
Snape said nothing, staring at the boy with desperate longing in his eyes.
"Anyway, I like girls too, but it was nice and I'd do it again," Harry said. "You just have to know who to do it with."
"And how do you know that Mr. Potter?" Snape asked sarcastically.
Harry stopped, then smiled at the needing expression on the man's face. "You pick the ones who will snuggle afterwards," he said.
Snape sat in silence, unable to respond.
"Professor Dumbledore didn't want to hurt you, you silly git," Harry said softly. "He loves you." The boy smiled, "Besides, shagging is fun if your partners not a complete prat."
Severus reached for his mug of tea and took a sip to wet his parched throat.
"I could show you if you like," Harry said suddenly.
Severus choked, spewing tea across the table. The boy ducked to avoid being splattered.
"You could ask Professor Dumbledore to watch," Harry said, keeping a straight face.
Severus wiped tea from his robes and glared at the boy. "Juvenile Gryffindor pervert."
Harry smiled and shrugged, "Doesn't hurt to ask. You're a git, but you're not bad looking when you haven't been dead lately."
Snape had to laugh. Shaking his head he said slowly, "Thank you for the incredibly romantic offer, but I believe there is someone else I should be asking."
Harry squeezed the man's hand gently. "It is different when they love you, or even like you," he said. "Give it a chance."
"I cannot believe I am taking advice based on experience gained with Fred and George Weasley," Snape sneered. "But I am forced to admit you may be right. I will speak with Professor Dumbledore."
"Good luck," Harry said, as the man stood.
Harry Potter poked listlessly at the treacle tart on his plate. The taste was brilliant, almost as good as the ones the house elves at Hogwarts made, but something was missing - something -
Severus Snape strode into the Ministry dining room and Harry felt his spirits leap.
Someone he knew!
Quickly he stood.
"Professor Snape?" Harry called, waving. He was so bored, so lonely, even Snape was better than nothing. Anyway, the greasy git had to like him a little better, after all- he'd saved his life.
Severus glanced around and sighed. Potter, it had to be Potter. On what was rapidly becoming the most confusing day of his disaster of a life. He paused a moment in thought. Or re-life, or un-life, or whatever in the bloody hell he was currently experiencing.
"Why, Mr. Potter, are you concealing yourself in this rather dim corner?" Snape sneered as he walked toward the table. "When you could be showing yourself to all and sundry in the grand dining hall upstairs?"
Harry grimaced and took a bite of his tart. He'd forgotten- his father had saved Snape's life too, and look where it got him.
"They all keep staring at me," he said at last. He glanced around to make sure they were alone.
"They treat me like a freak."
Despite his recent upsetting discussion with Albus, the man felt a glimmer of humour tickle him at the boy's innocence. Snape stared at him, one eyebrow arched. "Perhaps, Mr. Potter, they are simply waiting to see if your chicken gets up off the plate and begins to cluck."
Harry choked on his tart.
A joke! Snape had made a joke.
After a frantic coughing spell he glared at the professor.
"I don't do chickens, only snakes."
For a moment he thought he had gone too far. Snape's face tightened and his hands gripped the table's edge. It took the boy another second to realize the truth- it was a sham; the potions master was trying his best not to burst into laughter.
The attempt failed, and Severus Snape chortled out loud.
"It seems you do have a mind under all of that hair, Potter," the man said. His smile quickly faded. He tapped his wand on the table and a house elf appeared.
"What would Mr. Snape be wanting for dinner?" the elf asked.
"The usual Binny," Snape said, "Tea, cold chicken, and a pudding of some sort."
The elf nodded and blinked away.
Harry studied the older man curiously; this was the longest time they had spent together since their escape from Voldemort. The weeks had not been kind to the potions master. His thin frame had grown steadily more gaunt, his shallow skin more yellowed as the days passed.
"Are you all right Professor?" asked Harry. "You look, well - " He gestured hopelessly.
"Bloody awful," Snape finished.
Harry could only gape at the profanity as Binny returned, setting the professor's plate before him and disappearing.
Snape toyed with his dinner.
"Why are you down here anyway?" Harry asked. "I thought you ate with Professor Dumbledore?"
An unreadable look crossed the man's face, and he slowly shook his head. "If it were any of your business, Potter, I would tell you that I have been eating alone in my rooms since we arrived."
"Why?" Harry asked in surprise.
"Has it occurred to you, Mr. Potter, that perhaps I too have been the object of unwanted attention?" Snape sneered. "For some unfathomable reason, others seem to have a fascination for what it feels like to be dead." He stabbed viciously at his chicken.
Harry looked down. "I'm sorry."
Snape shook his head. "Don't be sorry, you foolish boy. It's not as if you could have asked for a by your leave."
Harry said quietly, "Was it terrible?"
Snape looked at him, his eyes black and fathoms deep. "I was at peace."
Harry shuddered. "Your life is that bad?"
"You don't want to know about my life, Mr. Potter," Snape said.
"Does it help," Harry asked cautiously, "Does it help knowing that Professor Dumbledore, uh, cares for you?"
Snape's fork clattered to the plate.
"How dare you, Mr. Potter," Snape snarled. He stood, pushing his chair back from the table. "I was foolish to believe we could have a conversation."
"But I - "
"That will be quite enough," said Snape. Without another word he aparated.
"Bloody hell," said Harry.
Later that evening
Severus Snape twisted in his chair, trying to find a comfortable spot to peruse the latest copy of "Potent Potions and Their Uses."
"Damn Albus and Potter both to hell," he muttered softly.
There was a knock at the chamber door.
"Go away," Snape said loudly.
"It's me Professor," came the voice of Harry Potter.
"In that case, go away Potter," Snape said.
The door opened and Harry Potter stepped inside.
"I needed to speak to you."
Severus sighed. "Since it obviously does not matter that I do not wish to speak to you, by all means, go ahead."
Harry seated himself in the soft, squashy chair next to the potions master and said, "I wasn't trying to pry you know."
Snape shook his head. "It does not matter what you were trying to do, Mr. Potter. It is none of your business." His thin fingers caressed his wand.
"I was just wondering if it's easier to bear, knowing someone else loves you."
Snape grimaced. "If what is easier to bear you idiot boy?"
"The pain," Harry said.
Snape stared at him with hatred in his eyes. "What would you know of pain, Potter? Loosing your mummy and daddy? Don't be surprised if I do not weep."
"I was talking about what Voldemort did to you, when you were younger," Harry said. The murderous look on Snape's face told him that his shot in the dark had gone home.
"I do not wish to discuss this with you," Snape said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Now get out."
"You aren't the only one it's happened to," Harry said softly.
Severus felt his mouth grow dry. He tried to swallow and his throat gave a miserable click.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Snape rasped out.
"I was eight the first time my Uncle pulled me into the attic while Aunt Petunia and Dudley were at the grocer's," Harry said.
Snape stared at him in bewilderment. "Your Uncle?"
"At first I thought he was going to beat me again," the boy shrugged. "Then I wished he had."
Snape leaned back and closed his eyes.
"I thought I was going to bleed to death," Harry said. "For a week I had to keep a towel down the back of my drawers." The boy laughed, "It was the first time I was ever glad I had to wear Dudley's old pants; there was so much material no one noticed a little more."
"You said the first time," Snape said. "There were more?"
Harry smiled sadly. "Too many times to count."
The older man shook his head, "And he beat you?"
"Sometimes he would hit me during, "Harry said, "Other times he just hit me." The boy looked down. "That's why I wondered, does it get easier, if you know someone else loves you?"
Snape passed a hand over his lips.
"I don't know," he said.
Harry looked at him quizzically.
"I was sixteen when I became a Death Eater," Severus said, "And seventeen when I crawled back to Dumbledore and begged him to take me in."
"But he loved you," Harry said.
"He never told me that," Snape replied. "He comforted me when my mother died, healed me when my father began to beat me, but he never said he loved me. I wouldn't have known what he meant if he did."
"But why else would he have made the effort?" Harry said.
"You heard him in that dungeon," Snape said. "He wanted me." The man pushed his hair back from his face, looking far older than his years. "From what you have just told me, you of all people should understand, Mr. Potter. The strong take what they want, there are simply better and worse ways to do it."
Harry laid a small hand on the man's arm. "But he said he'd never touched you like that."
"He did not," Snape said. He began to say more, then closed his mouth firmly.
"Well it seems to me that if he only wanted to shag you, he could have done it any time he wanted," Harry said.
Snape looked at him, clearly perplexed. "What are you going on about Potter?"
"I do understand, Professor," Harry said. "You're afraid Professor Dumbledore is like Voldemort, aren't you?"
Severus' shallow skin seemed to lose all color, becoming a shroud wrapping his bones. "I do not understand someone who could want a child," he said softly. "Albus has been many thing to me over the years, more than you will ever know. How can I look at him, knowing he could do that to a child?" He smoothed his hands repetitively over the wood of the table, obscurely calmed by the gesture.
"Do what to a child, exactly?" said Harry.
"I don't know why I'm talking to you Potter," Snape said, "But there's no one else is there? People don't exactly line up to give me a bit of tea and hear my sad tale of woe." He laughed. "But fool that you are, you are here, and you have asked, so I will tell you." He laughed again and stared at the boy. "I imagine you will enjoy telling Granger and Weasley all about your evil potions master's final breakdown."
Harry shook his head. "I won't be telling anyone, and you know it. Now, what do you think Professor Dumbledore wanted to do to you? To hurt you? Is that why you're not together now?" He looked at the man expectantly.
Snape closed his eyes and muttered "He wanted me, he still wants me. How could he want me? How could he want to do that to me? He says it's different, but - "
Harry blushed and looked down. "It doesn't always hurt you know."
Snape's head jerked up and he stared at the boy.
"I knew there had to be more to it, or people wouldn't be gay," Harry said sheepishly. "So I asked Fred-n-George to show me." He blushed more deeply, tripping over his words. "I mean, they like girls and everything, but I knew they had and so I asked."
Snape said quietly, "And what did you discover, Mr. Potter?" For once there was no menace, no sarcasm, dripping from his words.
"It was brilliant!" Harry smiled, and then laughed, "After the first bit where George squashed my legs and I kicked Fred in the head on accident."
The man had to smile at the image.
"It didn't hurt at all," Harry said, "And the snuggling was nice, even if Fred snores."
Snape said nothing, staring at the boy with desperate longing in his eyes.
"Anyway, I like girls too, but it was nice and I'd do it again," Harry said. "You just have to know who to do it with."
"And how do you know that Mr. Potter?" Snape asked sarcastically.
Harry stopped, then smiled at the needing expression on the man's face. "You pick the ones who will snuggle afterwards," he said.
Snape sat in silence, unable to respond.
"Professor Dumbledore didn't want to hurt you, you silly git," Harry said softly. "He loves you." The boy smiled, "Besides, shagging is fun if your partners not a complete prat."
Severus reached for his mug of tea and took a sip to wet his parched throat.
"I could show you if you like," Harry said suddenly.
Severus choked, spewing tea across the table. The boy ducked to avoid being splattered.
"You could ask Professor Dumbledore to watch," Harry said, keeping a straight face.
Severus wiped tea from his robes and glared at the boy. "Juvenile Gryffindor pervert."
Harry smiled and shrugged, "Doesn't hurt to ask. You're a git, but you're not bad looking when you haven't been dead lately."
Snape had to laugh. Shaking his head he said slowly, "Thank you for the incredibly romantic offer, but I believe there is someone else I should be asking."
Harry squeezed the man's hand gently. "It is different when they love you, or even like you," he said. "Give it a chance."
"I cannot believe I am taking advice based on experience gained with Fred and George Weasley," Snape sneered. "But I am forced to admit you may be right. I will speak with Professor Dumbledore."
"Good luck," Harry said, as the man stood.
