Snape sat by Harry's bed, and waited. He didn't want to be here, Merlin he
didn't. But he had little choice. He didn't want to incur the wrath of
Dumbledore.
Right on cue, the green eyes flicked open, shining with. . .hope? Happiness? No. Not shining at all. Dull. Snape felt a twinge of pain. Had he caused this?
"How are you feeling?" he asked, uncertain of what kind of tone to use.
"Very well, thank you" said Harry, his voice detached. Snape nodded.
"Dumbledore sent you, didn't he?"
Snape nodded again and the infuriating boy smirked.
"I bet he was really annoyed with you, and told you to visit me as penance. Well, thank you for enquiring about my health. Thank you very much. You can go now."
Snape paused, wanting to say something, anything, to make things better, more like they had been before. But the words wouldn't come, and he silently stalked away, robes swishing behind. Had he looked back, he would have seen the shields Harry had built up around himself collapse, and a look of exhaustion and longing pass over the boy's face before he turned over and tried to sleep.
********************************************
Snape almost walked straight into Dumbledore on his way out, and quickly backed up.
"That was quick, Severus."
Snape winced.
"He didn't really want to talk to me. Tired, I suppose."
Merlin, how many years had he been spying? And yet he still could not lie to Albus Dumbledore.
"We argued. He will not speak to me, probably ever again."
"I know"
Snape rolled his eyes. Of course Dumbledore knew. The damn man knew everything.
********************************************
The day dragged by, and Harry didn't do anything. He ate, as requested, and stared at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be until he could get out and wring Dean and Seamus' necks. Night fell, and he obediently swallowed his sleeping potion, lay down and fell asleep.
And then the nightmares began.
Vernon, Cedric, Voldemort, Draco, Dudley. They danced and screamed, and he didn't know which was worse, but he was screaming along with them, and he wondered whether the screaming would ever end, until his eyes sprung open, filled with tears, and he batted angrily at them, pushing whoever was touching him away, feeling sick at the thought of human contact. There was the sound of retreating footsteps, and he was all alone, but the tears had dried up and much as he didn't want to, h could see the slumped shoulders of Severus Snape dejectedly walking out of the room before Pomfrey came bustling in, and he switched off again, uncaring about what she said or did.
*****************************************
Snape watched Harry as he fell asleep. Even out of consciousness, he looked tense and unhappy. For a while Snape regarded him, eyes emotionless, and stood tall and still. When he was sure Harry was asleep, he walked over to the bed and sat down. Soon the screaming started. Snape didn't know why, but he had been expecting it. Harry screaming as though his very heart was being ripped out disturbed Snape, and he took Harry's hand, trying to pull him out of the horrible visions he would be having. It worked, to a certain extent, as Harry opened his eyes suddenly. However he immediately covered his face, recoiling away from Snape, and the older man felt as though his own heart had been wrenched out. Silently, he walked towards the door, and left without looking back.
***************************************************
Hogsmeade was pleasantly quiet, and Snape could sit in the corner without being noticed, nursing his Firewhisky between two pale hands, and wondering why he had to bollock everything up. He didn't know why exactly he was getting totally pissed over some boy who was meant to be his arch-enemy, and it was getting harder to contemplate after every drink. There had been a lot.
Of course, it wasn't very fitting behaviour for a member of Hogwarts staff to get completely sloshed before a day of teaching, but frankly Snape had drunk so much he couldn't give a flying fuck. Anyway, if Dumbledore hadn't wanted him to go then he would have stopped him from leaving - there were wards on the gates which allowed Albus to control who came and went. So. . .it was easier to believe that he had implicit permission to inebriate himself totally.
Contemplating the deep red liquid in the tankard, he wondered whether he ought to stop. He ran his hand over his robes, feeling the familiar hardness against the cloth (hehe), and relaxed, gesturing for the same again, confident in the knowledge he had a bottle of hangover remedy in his pocket.
*****************************************************
The next morning dawned bright; too bright for Harry's abused eyes. Madam Pomfrey brought him a bowl of broth and watched as he ate it, feigning disinterest. Harry couldn't bring himself to care.
"How long will I be here?"
"Until we decide that you are. . .umm. . .stable enough to leave."
Harry winced at her words.
"I'm perfectly stable! Merlin, do you see any scars?"
"The headmaster said there were concealing charms" she said stubbornly, and Harry saw his opportunity.
"Oh, Madam Pomfrey. Seriously, who could maintain a concealing charm for so many days? I don't have my wand, and Professor Flitwick told us any covering charms would only last for twelve hours."
He could see the wheels turning, and smirked inwardly. No need to tell Madam Pomfrey that the concealing charm he used were a combination, and that they would last until removed. The medi-witch looked at him, inspecting his arms, and finally nodded.
"I can't understand this, Mr Potter. I presume it was some puerile joke?"
Harry nodded, shame-faced, and Pomfrey sighed.
"Well, you can go then. But if anything like this ever happens again. . ."
Harry smiled brightly, nodded, and ran, throwing a robe over his striped pyjamas.
**********************************************
Snape woke up with a groan, wondering why exactly he had fallen asleep grading papers, and who on earth was having the temerity to shake him awake. Then he realised that he wasn't in the Dungeons. It was too bright, and smelled. . .fresh. Eew.
He then realised he was in the Three Broomsticks, and that he was meant to be in Hogwarts. Shit. . .and that was. . .who, exactly, poking him?
"Professor, Professor Snape, sir?"
Oh God. He could have recognised that sycophantic voice anywhere.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for a waking a teacher" he snarled, not raising his head, before he realised that Percy Weasley was no longer at school. Damn.
"Professor, is there anything I can do to help?"
"Yes" said Snape, softly raising his head and affecting a grateful smile. He beckoned the foolish boy closer and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
"GO AWAY!" he suddenly roared, making the boy almost fall over the table. With a frightened glance, Percy fled the pub, vowing never to offer his help to the snarky bastard again, and Snape laid back down onto the table, wishing the world would swallow him alive.
He didn't even notice the footsteps that approached him from behind, or the stunning spell that hit him.
*****************************************************
Harry wondered vaguely why the hell he had decided to go back to classes. It seemed like so much effort. Beyond the door he could hear professor Binns droning on, and decided that he would skip History of Magic and just head to his dormitory until Transfiguration. Then he realised he was still wearing Madam Pomfrey's striped Hospital Wing pyjamas, and thought that changing into the rest of his uniform would be a good idea.
He quickly slipped upstairs and stripped himself. Just then the mirror gave a gasp.
"Oh you poor thing! What on earth happened to you?"
Harry looked down. His chest and back and arms were covered with scars and few new cuts, although they had been for some time. Then he realised he had been changing in the bathroom for almost a year, and smiled slightly.
"Oh, nothing."
The mirror snorted, but remained silent, wisely, seeing as mirrors could easily be smashed with an accurate hex, and Harry admired his body in the mirror for a moment. He had taken off the concealing charms, not wanting to drain his magic too much, and now all the scars and cuts stood out sharply against his pale skin. He was slightly more muscular than he had been, from beginning to play Quidditch again, although still slender. Something that made him look innocent had disappeared over the last year, although his eyes were the same deep green, his hair still jet black if smoother. Maybe it was the way in which his cheekbones stood out from his slightly sunken cheeks, or the shadow that had fallen over his eyes like a mourning veil.
Jerking himself from his contemplations, he quickly pulled on a fresh shirt and his jumper and then his trousers, finally throwing his robe over the top as the bell went for them to go to Transfiguration. On his way out, he paused, and aimed his wand at the mirror.
"Obliviate"
**********************************************
"Ah, Mr Potter. Take a seat" said McGonagall, and Harry sat, acutely aware of all the glances he was getting. His stay in the Hospital had been widely publicised, and people had made their own conclusions, some closer to the mark than others. This new stay in the Infirmary would be bound to draw questioning. Sure enough, the murmuring started immediately, until McGonagall finally snapped,
"Will you please be quiet and concentrate on the lesson? Or would you all rather transfigure your noses into pumpkins rather than change the colour of your skin?"
Harry winced. So they were working on human transformations. That was not good. Harry could do them alright, as they had to be studied before concealing charms could be successfully applied. However he didn't want to think about what Dean might do to himself. His fears were quickly dealt with by McGonagall, however.
"I have cast a charm that will enable your faces to revert to their normal colour and shape" she paused, a glint in her eye, "After twelve hours. So while mistakes will not be permanent, they will probably be quite embarrassing"
Dean put his head in his hands and groaned loudly, to the amusement of the rest of the class, and a despairing look from McGonagall. Harry decided that he wouldn't help. He was angry enough at Dean to laugh at whatever he managed to transfigure himself into.
**************************************************
At the end of the lesson, a smirking Harry was the only one to escape with his normal skin tone. Hermione had come close, but couldn't manage the reversal spell and so had dark skin which looked odd with her light hair. Ron was red and gold; better than green and silver, Harry had heard him mutter resignedly at the end. McGonagall looked like she was trying not to laugh as Seamus walked past minus one arm. However Dean was definitely worst off. Harry didn't want to know what he had been thinking off as he walked past dejectedly. One arm was covered in scales with a mole's claw sticking out of the bottom. Parrot feathers ran down his cheekbones where sideburns would be, and he seemed to have transplanted Hermione's teeth into his mouth. It was not a pretty sight, and certainly not enhanced by the mottled green skin he had also managed to transfer onto himself. Dean's day was not going to be enjoyable.
Sure enough, at lunchtime, once McGonagall had forced him to take the balaclava off, the catcalls started. Then Hermione flushed.
"Oh! You have my teeth!"
Dean blushed deep red (below the green) and Hermione also blushed, smiling.
"That's so sweet, Dean!"
They gazed at each other for a few moments before Ron and Seamus both pointedly cleared their throats, and then jumped apart, both still blushing furiously. Harry smirked, which was probably not a good idea, since it drew attention to him. Dean and Seamus both tried to catch his eye but he purposefully looked in the other direction, and Hermione gave him an odd look.
"Harry, could I have a word with you?"
Dean and Seamus suddenly looked uneasy under Harry's gaze, and he realised that they must have told her. Gloomily he got to his feet, having finished his food, and left with her, his eyes automatically flicking to the Staff Table. What he saw nearly made him fall over.
For the first time since he had been at Hogwarts, Snape was not there.
Ok, who can guess who abducted Snape? I had one theory but both my betas vetoed it *glares* saying that it was crap. So who do you think it is? Kudos to whoever guesses right.
Right on cue, the green eyes flicked open, shining with. . .hope? Happiness? No. Not shining at all. Dull. Snape felt a twinge of pain. Had he caused this?
"How are you feeling?" he asked, uncertain of what kind of tone to use.
"Very well, thank you" said Harry, his voice detached. Snape nodded.
"Dumbledore sent you, didn't he?"
Snape nodded again and the infuriating boy smirked.
"I bet he was really annoyed with you, and told you to visit me as penance. Well, thank you for enquiring about my health. Thank you very much. You can go now."
Snape paused, wanting to say something, anything, to make things better, more like they had been before. But the words wouldn't come, and he silently stalked away, robes swishing behind. Had he looked back, he would have seen the shields Harry had built up around himself collapse, and a look of exhaustion and longing pass over the boy's face before he turned over and tried to sleep.
********************************************
Snape almost walked straight into Dumbledore on his way out, and quickly backed up.
"That was quick, Severus."
Snape winced.
"He didn't really want to talk to me. Tired, I suppose."
Merlin, how many years had he been spying? And yet he still could not lie to Albus Dumbledore.
"We argued. He will not speak to me, probably ever again."
"I know"
Snape rolled his eyes. Of course Dumbledore knew. The damn man knew everything.
********************************************
The day dragged by, and Harry didn't do anything. He ate, as requested, and stared at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be until he could get out and wring Dean and Seamus' necks. Night fell, and he obediently swallowed his sleeping potion, lay down and fell asleep.
And then the nightmares began.
Vernon, Cedric, Voldemort, Draco, Dudley. They danced and screamed, and he didn't know which was worse, but he was screaming along with them, and he wondered whether the screaming would ever end, until his eyes sprung open, filled with tears, and he batted angrily at them, pushing whoever was touching him away, feeling sick at the thought of human contact. There was the sound of retreating footsteps, and he was all alone, but the tears had dried up and much as he didn't want to, h could see the slumped shoulders of Severus Snape dejectedly walking out of the room before Pomfrey came bustling in, and he switched off again, uncaring about what she said or did.
*****************************************
Snape watched Harry as he fell asleep. Even out of consciousness, he looked tense and unhappy. For a while Snape regarded him, eyes emotionless, and stood tall and still. When he was sure Harry was asleep, he walked over to the bed and sat down. Soon the screaming started. Snape didn't know why, but he had been expecting it. Harry screaming as though his very heart was being ripped out disturbed Snape, and he took Harry's hand, trying to pull him out of the horrible visions he would be having. It worked, to a certain extent, as Harry opened his eyes suddenly. However he immediately covered his face, recoiling away from Snape, and the older man felt as though his own heart had been wrenched out. Silently, he walked towards the door, and left without looking back.
***************************************************
Hogsmeade was pleasantly quiet, and Snape could sit in the corner without being noticed, nursing his Firewhisky between two pale hands, and wondering why he had to bollock everything up. He didn't know why exactly he was getting totally pissed over some boy who was meant to be his arch-enemy, and it was getting harder to contemplate after every drink. There had been a lot.
Of course, it wasn't very fitting behaviour for a member of Hogwarts staff to get completely sloshed before a day of teaching, but frankly Snape had drunk so much he couldn't give a flying fuck. Anyway, if Dumbledore hadn't wanted him to go then he would have stopped him from leaving - there were wards on the gates which allowed Albus to control who came and went. So. . .it was easier to believe that he had implicit permission to inebriate himself totally.
Contemplating the deep red liquid in the tankard, he wondered whether he ought to stop. He ran his hand over his robes, feeling the familiar hardness against the cloth (hehe), and relaxed, gesturing for the same again, confident in the knowledge he had a bottle of hangover remedy in his pocket.
*****************************************************
The next morning dawned bright; too bright for Harry's abused eyes. Madam Pomfrey brought him a bowl of broth and watched as he ate it, feigning disinterest. Harry couldn't bring himself to care.
"How long will I be here?"
"Until we decide that you are. . .umm. . .stable enough to leave."
Harry winced at her words.
"I'm perfectly stable! Merlin, do you see any scars?"
"The headmaster said there were concealing charms" she said stubbornly, and Harry saw his opportunity.
"Oh, Madam Pomfrey. Seriously, who could maintain a concealing charm for so many days? I don't have my wand, and Professor Flitwick told us any covering charms would only last for twelve hours."
He could see the wheels turning, and smirked inwardly. No need to tell Madam Pomfrey that the concealing charm he used were a combination, and that they would last until removed. The medi-witch looked at him, inspecting his arms, and finally nodded.
"I can't understand this, Mr Potter. I presume it was some puerile joke?"
Harry nodded, shame-faced, and Pomfrey sighed.
"Well, you can go then. But if anything like this ever happens again. . ."
Harry smiled brightly, nodded, and ran, throwing a robe over his striped pyjamas.
**********************************************
Snape woke up with a groan, wondering why exactly he had fallen asleep grading papers, and who on earth was having the temerity to shake him awake. Then he realised that he wasn't in the Dungeons. It was too bright, and smelled. . .fresh. Eew.
He then realised he was in the Three Broomsticks, and that he was meant to be in Hogwarts. Shit. . .and that was. . .who, exactly, poking him?
"Professor, Professor Snape, sir?"
Oh God. He could have recognised that sycophantic voice anywhere.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for a waking a teacher" he snarled, not raising his head, before he realised that Percy Weasley was no longer at school. Damn.
"Professor, is there anything I can do to help?"
"Yes" said Snape, softly raising his head and affecting a grateful smile. He beckoned the foolish boy closer and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
"GO AWAY!" he suddenly roared, making the boy almost fall over the table. With a frightened glance, Percy fled the pub, vowing never to offer his help to the snarky bastard again, and Snape laid back down onto the table, wishing the world would swallow him alive.
He didn't even notice the footsteps that approached him from behind, or the stunning spell that hit him.
*****************************************************
Harry wondered vaguely why the hell he had decided to go back to classes. It seemed like so much effort. Beyond the door he could hear professor Binns droning on, and decided that he would skip History of Magic and just head to his dormitory until Transfiguration. Then he realised he was still wearing Madam Pomfrey's striped Hospital Wing pyjamas, and thought that changing into the rest of his uniform would be a good idea.
He quickly slipped upstairs and stripped himself. Just then the mirror gave a gasp.
"Oh you poor thing! What on earth happened to you?"
Harry looked down. His chest and back and arms were covered with scars and few new cuts, although they had been for some time. Then he realised he had been changing in the bathroom for almost a year, and smiled slightly.
"Oh, nothing."
The mirror snorted, but remained silent, wisely, seeing as mirrors could easily be smashed with an accurate hex, and Harry admired his body in the mirror for a moment. He had taken off the concealing charms, not wanting to drain his magic too much, and now all the scars and cuts stood out sharply against his pale skin. He was slightly more muscular than he had been, from beginning to play Quidditch again, although still slender. Something that made him look innocent had disappeared over the last year, although his eyes were the same deep green, his hair still jet black if smoother. Maybe it was the way in which his cheekbones stood out from his slightly sunken cheeks, or the shadow that had fallen over his eyes like a mourning veil.
Jerking himself from his contemplations, he quickly pulled on a fresh shirt and his jumper and then his trousers, finally throwing his robe over the top as the bell went for them to go to Transfiguration. On his way out, he paused, and aimed his wand at the mirror.
"Obliviate"
**********************************************
"Ah, Mr Potter. Take a seat" said McGonagall, and Harry sat, acutely aware of all the glances he was getting. His stay in the Hospital had been widely publicised, and people had made their own conclusions, some closer to the mark than others. This new stay in the Infirmary would be bound to draw questioning. Sure enough, the murmuring started immediately, until McGonagall finally snapped,
"Will you please be quiet and concentrate on the lesson? Or would you all rather transfigure your noses into pumpkins rather than change the colour of your skin?"
Harry winced. So they were working on human transformations. That was not good. Harry could do them alright, as they had to be studied before concealing charms could be successfully applied. However he didn't want to think about what Dean might do to himself. His fears were quickly dealt with by McGonagall, however.
"I have cast a charm that will enable your faces to revert to their normal colour and shape" she paused, a glint in her eye, "After twelve hours. So while mistakes will not be permanent, they will probably be quite embarrassing"
Dean put his head in his hands and groaned loudly, to the amusement of the rest of the class, and a despairing look from McGonagall. Harry decided that he wouldn't help. He was angry enough at Dean to laugh at whatever he managed to transfigure himself into.
**************************************************
At the end of the lesson, a smirking Harry was the only one to escape with his normal skin tone. Hermione had come close, but couldn't manage the reversal spell and so had dark skin which looked odd with her light hair. Ron was red and gold; better than green and silver, Harry had heard him mutter resignedly at the end. McGonagall looked like she was trying not to laugh as Seamus walked past minus one arm. However Dean was definitely worst off. Harry didn't want to know what he had been thinking off as he walked past dejectedly. One arm was covered in scales with a mole's claw sticking out of the bottom. Parrot feathers ran down his cheekbones where sideburns would be, and he seemed to have transplanted Hermione's teeth into his mouth. It was not a pretty sight, and certainly not enhanced by the mottled green skin he had also managed to transfer onto himself. Dean's day was not going to be enjoyable.
Sure enough, at lunchtime, once McGonagall had forced him to take the balaclava off, the catcalls started. Then Hermione flushed.
"Oh! You have my teeth!"
Dean blushed deep red (below the green) and Hermione also blushed, smiling.
"That's so sweet, Dean!"
They gazed at each other for a few moments before Ron and Seamus both pointedly cleared their throats, and then jumped apart, both still blushing furiously. Harry smirked, which was probably not a good idea, since it drew attention to him. Dean and Seamus both tried to catch his eye but he purposefully looked in the other direction, and Hermione gave him an odd look.
"Harry, could I have a word with you?"
Dean and Seamus suddenly looked uneasy under Harry's gaze, and he realised that they must have told her. Gloomily he got to his feet, having finished his food, and left with her, his eyes automatically flicking to the Staff Table. What he saw nearly made him fall over.
For the first time since he had been at Hogwarts, Snape was not there.
Ok, who can guess who abducted Snape? I had one theory but both my betas vetoed it *glares* saying that it was crap. So who do you think it is? Kudos to whoever guesses right.
