Title: L' Estate di Suicidio
Author: Clynn
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and I'm not making any money off of them.
Author's Notes: Sorry it took so long. You can thank Amber, who emailed to nag, for having this chapter up now. This chapters pretty long, though, and thats good, right? Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Sometimes I wonder if I have any control at all over my life. Dumbledore decides who I live with, where I stay, even who my legal guardian should be. My professors discuss my life with each other, ask each other just what they should do to keep me safe. Even the Fudge apparently thinks its his duty to keep me safe. I wonder how long it would take them to track me down if I ran away. I assume they have some sort of precautionary spell on me, a locator or some such nonsense. It doesn't seem like they would waste all their efforts on the off chance that I might feel a bit... smothered, and walk away. Even Dumbledore isn't crazy enough to trust me that much. Still... Its hard to forget that they are only trying to look out for me, or the image they have of me. Its hard to forget that it is my fault that they have to focus all this extra energy on keeping me safe. I wonder what Madame Pomfrey would be doing if I hadn't showed up to disrupt her summer. I wonder if she has a summer house, somewhere near a beach. There are probably children or grandchildren somewhere in the picture, I can't imagine Madame Pomfrey enjoying months with no little ones around her. She enjoys caring for people, that much is obvious. But why must she waste her time caring for me? I'm sure she has better ways to spend her time.
And Snape... It is difficult to imagine him having any plans at all over the summer, but I rather imagine he prefers it that way. He probably shuts himself up in the dungeons with a big stack of potions books and spends his time brewing the most difficult potions he can find, playing with them, experimenting and creating new things to test. I imagine that he delights in this, in manipulating the ingredients to his will. I am certain that he enjoys the calculations, how predictable potions can be, how easy it is to guess how each ingredient will interact with the others. I know he would love the surprises, when the ingredients mix in a way he never guessed. I picture him grinning in delight as he sits down to retrace his steps, to concentrate on the temperature, the order the ingredients were put in, anything to account for the unexpected result. What time does he have for this now? Since he came to the Dursley's to get me, nearly every moment has been spent by my side. I can't imagine that staring at a suicidal teenager holds quite the same joy for him as brewing some exotic potion.
Even Dumbledore must have ad some plans... I seem to remember him mentioning something about a brother, at one point, and he may have other family. Besides, Dumbledore is always busy with something. I suppose right now, he is doing all he can to orchestrate a defense against Voldemort. I hope with all my heart that I do nothing to distract him from that cause. Sirius.... I know he will be thinking of me. What if I distract him? One minute of carelessness and he could be in the hands of dementors or deatheaters. It will undoubtedly be my fault if he gets hurt. I can't hurt anyone else. I already killed Cedric. What right do I have to be here, taking and taking from these wonderful people? What does it matter in the end if I live or die, as long as these people are unharmed? I can't do this anymore. I can't sit here and watch Madame Pomfrey drain herself of energy trying to care for me, or see Snape trying so hard to turn into this kind, loving man for my benefit. He needs his strength for other things, bigger things. They all do.
"Madame Pomfrey?" I ask, my voice soft and hesitant. It is difficult for me to speak to her, but she seems to view it as an improvement, nearly leaping from her chair in her rush to reach my bedside. "I need to use the bathroom. Please, could you let me up?"
She looks at me, clearly torn. "Harry... I'm not sure thats a good idea. Perhaps you should wait until Professor Snape returns, he can take you. I don't think you should be walking around unsupervised."
"Please, Madame Pomfrey, its an emergency. I'll come right back, I promise. Please?" I can see it in her face as she relents. She raises her wand and points it towards my bed, then hesitates for a second.
"You will use the bathroom in here, mind you. And its straight there, straight back. Got it?" I nod my assent, and in seconds, the bonds holding me to the bed have disappeared. I stand carefully, stretching my limbs, then make a dash for the door. Madame Pomfrey tries to stun me, I think, I don't quite catch the words of the spell. But I know it is coming and dodge it, running into the hall. I think I will run to the passage into Hogsmeade, and from there, I should be able to lose them in the crowd long enough to get away, find someplace I can use floo powder. Long enough to find my way to Knockturn Alley, where I have no doubt that the potions store will have something a little quicker and more effective than watching myself bleed. I am so lost in planning my escape, that I am barely paying attention. I gasp in surprise when a strong, black-clothed arm reaches out and grabs me by the neck of my hospital issue pajamas.
"Where exactly do you think you are going, Mr. Potter? And how on earth did you get out of that bed?" Snape's voice is low, growling and I am actually a bit frightened. I try to pull back, my legs shaking. Snape grabs my shoulders firmly and spins me around so that I am facing him. "Harry..." he says and his voice is softer now. "Harry, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise you that. But you need to come with me. I know this is hard for you, but you have to trust me. Come on, we have to let Madame Pomfrey know that you are alright. Then, you are going to come with me, to the dungeons. I have a bed set up for you in my room. The headmaster agrees with me, that you will be much more comfortable there. But first, we have to see Poppy. I'm sure you gave her quite a scare, running off like that." My legs are still trembling in fright, but Snape's words have calmed me a little. I don't know why I allow myself to get so scared, when I know that Snape would never hurt me. Still... I take a few shaky steps forward and Professor Snape holds my arms tightly. "Harry, are you alright?" Snape looks at me in concern. I begin to nod, but my legs give out from under me, and Snape catches me quickly. He lifts me and carries me to the side of the hallway, and sits down on the floor next to me.
"Come on, now, Harry, its okay. Why were you running, Harry?" Snape turns to me, one hand still gripping my arm to make sure I don't run again. As if I could in this state. I don't want to explain it to Snape, I am certain he already understands what a burden I am, and now he is taking on even more responsibility for me. I don't want him to do this. I don't want him to take care of me, as though I was worth his time. I'm not. I know I'm not. But I want this, I want someone willing to chase me down the halls ,and take me into their arms when I'm frightened. I don't want to be disappointed again. Its easy to convince yourself that you are loved, and then you find out all over again that you aren't worthy. I can't do that again. I can't let myself believe that Snape knows me, or understands me. Even if he did care whether I live or die, he's probably got the same romanticized image of me that everyone else has. The Boy Who Lived. Thats not who I am. I'll never be that person. And no one knows.... No one knows who I really am. I don't think they want to know. What does it matter? They all leave in the end anyway.
Lost in my reverie, I am startled to find tears falling down my face. Snape pulls me close once more, wraps his arms around me and lets me cry. No one has ever done that for me before, and it only makes me cry harder, to think that this poor man is deluded enough to think that I am someone worth comforting. But Snape does not pull away, like I expect him to. I am vaguely aware, after a few minutes, of someone else walking past us, and Snape looks up.
"Albus? Can you please go tell Madame Pomfrey that I've got Harry? He ran off, I think, and she will be worried. And in a moment, I think I'll take him down to his new room, if thats okay." I don't look up, but I assume that Dumbledore nods. In any case, I hear his footsteps retreating down the hall.
"Harry? Harry, come on now, you will be much more comfortable downstairs. Lets go down and have some lunch, and maybe we can talk a bit, alright? Come on, child, its okay now..." Snape is gently rubbing my back, and his voice is nothing like the cold, threatening tone he takes in class. He pulls away from me slowly, and helps me to stand. Neither of us speak as we walk down to the dungeons, but he holds on to my hand as though I were no more than five. At another time, it may have seemed demeaning or embarrassing, but right now, that hand is anchoring me to reality, and I need it. I tighten my grip just enough to let Snape know not to let go, and he squeezes my hand in return.
Snape finally stops in front of a rather large painting on the dungeon wall. The illustration is quite disturbing, a man clearly about to be swallowed whole by a snake, but the man in the picture doesn't seem at all disturbed when he turns to Snape. "Well, hello there, Severus! Brought a friend with you today, have you? Password, please!" Snape rolls his eyes at this overt show of cheerfulness and mutters the password under his breath. "A bit louder, please, Severus, I didn't quite catch that!" The man in the illustration is grinning so widely now that I am tempted to smile back. I refrain, however, because I can't quite tear my eyes away from the snake in the background of the picture.
"I said, emerald visions!" Snape declared loudly. Both Snape and I step back expectantly, and the portrait swings forward.
"In you go, then! I'll see you later Severus!" Snape once again mutters something under his breath and pulls me in to the room.
"Just like Albus to give me the most insufferably cheerful painting in the whole castle. Come on in, then, Harry, let me show you around" The room I enter is not at all what I expected. The walls are bare rock, like the rest of the dungeon, but candles are mounted on them and the glow from the fireplace give them a comfortable feel. There are a few plush chairs situated by the fireplace, which is flanked by bookcases. A small chess table sits on one side of the room, and a table already heavily piled with dishes for our lunch is on the other. At the back of the room, two doorways lead out, presumably to Snape's bedroom and mine. The bathroom is off to one side.
"Less green then I expected." I comment dryly. Snape smiles, a real smile, something I didn't expect from him.
"I didn't exactly choose the Slytherin colors myself, Mr. Potter, and I'm not actually a fan of green. I prefer blue, but that doesn't quite fit the Slytherin house as a whole. Come on, lets have lunch." I nod and follow Snape to the table. Nothing has been separated on to plates yet, and I'm quite sure Snape gave those instructions himself. Everything he gives me, he makes sure I see him putting on his own plate. He makes sure to put a reasonable amount of food on my plate and insists that I eat everything he puts before me. It is difficult, but I know that Snape won't let me up until I finish. He nods approvingly when my plate is clean and guides me to a seat by the fire.
"Harry... Why did you run today? Now, don't start crying again, I know you don't want to talk about this and I know you don't want to deal with it, but we have to. If you won't let me help you, I'll have no choice but to send you back to Madame Pomfrey and tell the headmaster that I am unable to help you. I think neither of us want that." I nod briefly and then begin to speak.
"I... I was thinking about what an inconvenience it must be, to have me here. I interrupted everyone's vacation, and its useless, you know, to waste your time on me. I'm just... I'm not worth your time. I just hurt everyone. Its my fault, you know, and I don't want to hurt anyone else, and I thought maybe if I could just make it to Hogsmeade, I could find someone willing to let me use their fireplace, and then I could go to Knockturn Alley, and if I got to Knockturn Alley, I was pretty sure I could... I could find something, a potion, really quick and effective, and then no one would have to worry about me anymore." Snape sighs and looks straight at me.
"Harry. It is not a waste of my time, or anyone else's, to help you. It is not your fault that Cedric died, it isn't your fault when people get hurt. I want to help you. I want to make sure that you get through this, and that you will be okay. It isn't a burden on me. It is not something I would do if I felt that it were a burden, because there are many people willing to take care of you. Harry, there are people who love you, who it would hurt tremendously if you died. You go out of your way not to cause any harm, but have you thought of how much it would hurt the Weasleys, for instance, to know that you took your own life?"
"They don't love me... They just think they do, everyone does. They just... They put me on a pedestal, like I'm some kind of hero, and I'm not, and it isn't me. I'm not the person they love. What about when they find out? What happens when they realize that I'm not the person they think I am? They'll be so disappointed, and they won't like the real me. They only like the Boy Who Lived, Professor, and that isn't me!" Talking to Snape like this, combined with the exhaustion of my earlier crying fit, has worn me out. As I slip into oblivion, I feel strong arms lifting me up and carrying me into a soft, comfortable bed.
"Good night, Harry" I hear Snape whisper, and then darkness comes.
