Title: L' Estate di Suicidio

Author: Clynn

Rating: PG-13 for dark themes and some cursing. Rating may, but probably won't, go up.

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and I'm not making any money off of them.

Author's Notes: More conspiracy, I tell you! This chapter has been finished forever (longest chapter yet, btw), and my computer is dying and won't let me on the internet! GAH! I'm not even sure if I'll be able to post this! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I love you all. For those who asked (since I'm not online I can't check the names... grrr....) this won't be slash, because I'm not sure I could pull that off without it sounding like Snape was taking advantage of Harry while he's vulnerable. But if many people want it, I could do a separate Harry/Sev slash fic, unrelated to this one. It might have to wait until I finish this though, I'm not very good at doing two things at once. Review, my dears, and tell me what you want. Pretty much the only pairing I will flat out refuse to do is Draco/Harry. And anything with a Dursley. Anything else, slash or not, I can work with. Review!!!

I awaken to the feel of a cool palm in my own. A ring is digging gently into my skin, and I'm grateful for the comfort. I yawn, stretch, and open my eyes. Madame Pomfrey stares back at me. I jump back in surprise, at least as far as these bonds trapping me to the bed will allow.

"Relax, Harry. Severus will return soon, he just stepped out for a little breakfast. I am here simply because he was afraid that his departure would waken you and he felt that you needed your rest." Madame Pomfrey's voice is soft and calming, but I still find myself recoiling from her touch. "Would you like to try to eat something?"

I shake my head vigorously. I don't think that I can stomach anything, and frankly, I don't want to try. "A little juice, at least, Harry? You have to have something." Madame Pomfrey moves to pour a goblet of some orange liquid down my throat and I jump back. I don't know what she has put in that, but I am not risking another potion to make me confide in them. I'd rather dehydrate than take something from her.

"Poppy, perhaps you should step back a bit, I believe you are crowding young Potter." Snape has returned, and I am amazed to find myself relieved at his presence. "Harry, I don't think that there is anything in that goblet other than pumpkin juice. If you like, I will get you something else, and you can watch me pour it. I'll even drink some if it will make you feel better."

I nod my agreement, and Snape moves to get a fresh goblet. Madame Pomfrey looks slightly embarrassed that she didn't even know how to handle her own patient. I can't blame her. I don't suppose that she deals with such troublesome students on a daily basis.

"Harry, will you drink this, please?" Snape hands me a goblet of fresh pumpkin juice that I had just seen him pour. I look at it suspiciously. I have no way of knowing what was in the pumpkin juice before he poured it for me, and I don't want to lose control again. I shake my head slightly, and Snape sighs in disappointment. He leans his back his head and takes a swig of juice from my goblet. "Its fine, Harry, I promise. No one spiked your juice. Please just drink it!" I nod my acceptance warily. If Snape drank from the goblet, there is almost no chance that there is some potion hidden in it. Snape hands over the glass and I drink gratefully.

"See? I told you it was okay. Poppy, if you want to leave now, I'll be here until lunch, at least. Albus said he might stop by later to check on Harry. Why don't you go enjoy your vacation?" I wince at Snape's words. I am keeping these teachers tied up when they should be out enjoying the summer holidays. I shouldn't be their responsibility now. In fact, I'm not entirely sure why I am. The last thing that I remember is the knife flying from my hands, and I'm a bit confused about who took it and how I got back to Hogwarts. As Madame Pomfrey leaves the room, pausing briefly to fuss at my bedside, Snape comes and sits next to me.

"How are you today, Harry? Any nightmares after I left this morning?" Snape looks genuinely concerned, and I'm more than a bit surprised. Even after the kindness he showed last night, it is difficult to see Snape in this light, as a caring, concerned person. It is difficult to stop thinking of him as the enemy, and even now, in the back of my mind, I am questioning his motives in helping me. Perhaps he feels it will win him some favor with Dumbledore. Dumbledore... I'm not sure what to think of the man anymore. Before he force-fed me that potion, I would have told you that he was the greatest man alive, perhaps to ever live. But now... Well, I'd rather spend my time with Snape. Snape, it appears, understands how I feel. Dumbledore wants to, wants to a bit too much, perhaps, and it made him do something so incredibly stupid that I'm really not sure if I should trust him anymore. It is a big issue for me, control, and I don't like being knocked out of control of my own mind, feeling someone or something else in there, prying around, and being unable to resist it. It terrifies me, and I can't believe that Dumbledore was ignorant enough to make that kind of a mistake. I don't want to see him today. I don't want him to try and make me talk to him, and to know that I'm failing again when I refuse. I don't want to see how hurt he is when he realizes that I don't trust him. I am barely managing as it is, I don't think I can deal with the added guilt.

"Harry? Talk to me, boy, why do you look so disturbed?" Snape places a gentle hand on my arm, and I immediately back away. Last night, I needed the comfort of another human being to hold on to. Now, I'm not sure who to trust, and the confusion is making me retreat back into myself. I don't want any contact with Snape until I know for certain that he is here simply because he is concerned. I don't even want to talk to him, or to anyone else. All I really want is to curl up into a ball and go back to sleep. Maybe never wake up. I don't particularly want to die, I just want this all to end. If I could just sleep forever, I would be happy. I have no objections to life in general, merely to the particulars of life, the talking and the laughing and pretending always that there is nothing wrong with me. I hate being trapped in a life I know is not really for me, being put on this pedestal that I don't deserve and hearing compliments from people who have somehow managed to convince themselves that I am more than I am. I hate having to accept their compliments as if I agree. I want to scream at them to look a little deeper, see all the imperfections. I'm not a god; I'm not even a mediocre person. I am nothing, and I want a world of nothing, too. A nice see of blackness to sink into, silence, emptiness, and then me, melting in to it, and becoming it. I certainly see no opportunities for such an existence in life, I thought perhaps in death, there would be. It appears I won't be finding out anytime soon.

"Who took the knife from me?" I'm aware that I haven't answered Snape's previous questions, but it seems important that I ask this one of my own.

"I did, Harry. There are alarms, of a sort, set up, on you and around the Dursley's home. All of the teachers helped to set them up, much like the obstacles protecting the sorcerer's stone. When a teacher's alarm is tripped, that teacher is alerted. Dumbledore would have preferred to have been notified directly if something were happening, but the spells only work for whomever casts them, and he wanted spells cast in all areas of potential danger. When you were a child, playing alone in the backyard, no more than 3, you attempted to eat some poisonous plant or another. It tripped Professor Sprout's alarm, and she rushed to save you. Obviously, she was successful. Dumbledore covered the big things, Voldemort and Deatheaters, fires, earthquakes, tornados, whatever he could think of. Even Madame Pomfrey did something, I believe a certain amount of blood loss triggers her alarm. Although perhaps not, I seem to recall it covering internal bleeding as well.... In any case, I did what was expected of me, protecting you from dangerous potions, although I saw little danger in that, since you were living with a muggle family. But I also put up an alarm to warn me of suicide and self-inflicted injuries. Poppy's alarm failed to notify her of the danger you were in because the wound was self-inflicted. It did not occur to her that you would ever seek to harm yourself, so she put an exception in her alarm so that it would not be tripped when you cut yourself to become blood brothers with a friend or some other such nonsense. I thought, however, that you were destined to lead a rather difficult life, and I wanted to be able to protect you from yourself, should the need arise. When my alarm was tripped, I grabbed my broom and flew into Hogsmeade, then apparated as close to the Dursley's home as the apparition wards allow. I was afraid that I would be too late. I was fortunate that I was not."

Fortunate. That's not quite the word I would use, but I imagine Snape knows that already. "If Dumbledore put up protection against Deatheaters, how did you get into the Dursley's house?" I inquire, perhaps a bit nastily.

"Albus put exceptions into the spells for me. He was quite meticulous in his planning." Snape's response is a bit stiff and I almost feel sorry for him. One mistake in his past and he will be paying all of his life. He doesn't deserve it. He has paid his dues time and time again. I wish I was brave enough to stay here and pay mine, but all I want to do is disappear. "Harry, I've answered your questions, now it's your turn to answer mine. You were okay when I left last night, but this morning, something is wrong. Don't try to pretend differently, I can see it in your eyes. Something is bothering you. What is it?"

I sigh, perhaps a bit dramatically. I really don't want to talk to Snape, but he has told me everything I wanted to know with a patience I didn't think possible from him. It is only fair that I give him at least this much. "I just don't want to see Dumbledore. You told Madame Pomfrey that he might be coming by and I don't want to deal with him right now. He wants me to talk to him, and I don't want to."

"You don't want to talk to me, either, child, but you don't react nearly as strongly when I enter the room as you did to just Dumbledore's name. Why?"

I hesitate. Telling Snape that I don't want to see Dumbledore is one thing. Confiding in him about why is quite another. I don't really want to talk to him, and he knows it, but he is still here, trying. I can't shake the feeling that I owe him, I owe everyone, and if I can begin repaying that debt just by talking, it's my duty to do it.

"You... You understand, I guess. At least, it seems like you do. Dumbledore doesn't. Dumbledore has never thought about what it would be like to simply cease to exist. He sees the good, and he sees the bad, and its all black and white for him. He knows who to fight and who to trust and he never falters, in anything that he does. And I don't know those things, and nothing is clear cut for me, and he just doesn't get it. He sees the right thing to do for me is to make me talk through my problems, and he is going to do whatever it takes to make me do it. Its for my own good, I'll thank him for it later. Maybe that's true, but right now, it is upsetting me and worrying me and shaking my trust in him, the one person I thought I could trust unconditionally, and its just making everything worse. Everything is so muddled for me, and I'm not really sure who the good guys are anymore. I don't want to talk to him until I know what he wants."

Snape looks at me thoughtfully, and then turns slightly away. When he speaks, his voice is soft and kind, and I know I'm talking to the same Snape I saw last night, and not to the man who's potions class I've been going to all these years. "Harry, I do understand how you feel, because I've been there myself, time and time again. I even understand how you feel about Albus. When I was a young man, a bit younger than you, I found myself on the brink, and there was Albus Dumbledore, pulling me back. He was too forceful, he didn't understand, all he wanted to do was make me talk to him. I learned later, to appreciate what he did for me, but at the time, I felt much like you do now. Look, Harry, I'll talk to Albus, try to make him see that his way isn't necessarily the best way to deal with your situation. I can't promise anything, but I can try and make him see that perhaps he should hold off on the visits for awhile. That potion incident, it really shook you up, didn't it?" I nod forcefully. Snape gives me a gentle smile in return. "You have to realize, though, that I can't work miracles. You are going to have to have a constant babysitter for awhile, and the bonds may have to stay on your bed. I'll see what I can do about getting you moved somewhere more comfortable, though, and maybe getting you some entertainment. I'm going to go talk to Albus, I'll be back shortly."

Snape walked calmly from the room, and I found myself smiling at his retreating form. It's the first time I've smiled in months, and I can hardly believe that it was in response to Snape. He isn't the man that I thought he was.