Disclaimer's Notice: Harry Potter is not mine.
Author's Note: Erg, I'm extremely sorry for not updating in a long time. It's my new years resolution to only write one story at a time and this one is first on my list. I'm really sorry. Well here's the next, extremely belated, chapter...
Chapter Five: Promises
From Remus's POV...
_______________________
He still hasn't regained consciousness. He looks almost dead in his deep sleep. The bruises have healed a little, yet I can still see the misty pinks upon the mound of his top cheek. His eyelids are a soft purple, his serene lips straight and expressionless. There is no anger, no self-contempt, no frustration, no hurt, no hatred, no guilt nor disgust in the contours of that young face. He finally looks his age, if not younger, in his element and no longer suffering. Sometimes I wish I could bend down and kiss him, feel his warmth, his tenderness, just as I did the night I gave myself to him. How can anyone harm him when he looks so vulnerable? His whole body seems to have shrunk, there's no pride in him, no intensity, just a sweet surrender to unconsciousness. I wonder where his mind is now, what he's thinking or whether he's even dreaming. For he doesn't look like he's in this world.
I will never forget the moment I found Severus, just lying there outside of the Prefect's bathroom. Sirius and James stalked in with smug grins on their faces and blood on their knuckles. They usually got into fights, sometimes with each other, that was no surprise, but it was the sick, evil glint in their eyes that made me shiver, that made me realise there was something more to this than another brawl.
"We took care of him for you, Remus." When James spoke those words a cold dread slid through me. I swallowed; there was no time to be angry or contemptuous.
"Where?"
Sirius barked with laughter, that cocky pride in his grin, the blood specked on his white shirt cuff. I felt sick.
"Where what, Moony?"
"Where is he?" I remember the tremble in my voice, the involuntarily shaking, the fury I knew must be contained.
James was folding up the invisibility cloak in a civilised fashion; I could smell the thrill of excitement on him, electric, like a burn, not a single trace of guilt in his mind. Surely it couldn't have been that bad; yet there was the blood, the blood that looked more than just a scratch, more than just a little teasing and pushing about. They had hurt him.
"Well...let's just say..." James said leanly, with a yawn in his voice, "...he needs a greater wash up now than he did before..."
The bathroom, he was a prefect wasn't he? They were looking at me with a hideous satisfaction; maybe they did hate me, maybe they were disgusted at me because I was queer. Things would never be the same again. Those leers would never leave their faces.
"I'd leave him there to rot if I were you, Moony. Filth like him deserves it."
You mean -filth like me- I thought angrily. I fled out of the dorm room desperate to find Severus and save him from whatever damage they had done.
When I rushed down to the Prefect's Bathroom, taking a few wrong turnings and cursing myself at my inability to navigate myself, all I could think of was -it's my fault, it's my fault-. There he was: hunched by the door, his head leaning loosely against the edge. He wore the same expression then as he does now as I sit here by his side at Pomfrey's sweeping a few loose strands from his face. There was blood trickling from the left corner of his mouth and his nose was bloodied badly; his whole face was beaten, the tenderness of bruising awakening from him. Everything was incongruous to that strange, peaceful expression on his face, as if he was happy for it to have all stopped.
I levitated him to Pomfrey's as fast as I could, frightened to touch even a part of him. He seemed so helpless, like I'd never seen him before, so unguarded, so harmless even. He was my age; he wasn't stronger than I was, nor better equipped than me, he was no more deserving of being beaten and punished than I was, and yet here he was, bruised and bleeding, because I was stupid enough to ask his help.
When Pomfrey saw him, she looked unsurprised but disappointed nonetheless.
"Not that Snape boy again..." she sighed with concern and exasperation in her voice." Usher him in, usher him in..."
She told me to lay him on the bed. Awkwardly I did so and I felt tears prick the front of my eyes.
"What are you doing out so late? Do you know who did this?"
Sirius and James, Sirius and James my mind seemed to chant but my voice faltered and said instead, "I don't know, miss. I- I thought I heard something and well, I did. H-he was just there... I didn't really have time to think who it was... He's not exactly...the most popular boy in the school."
"Poor, poor child... Children can be terrible sometimes." she tutted, "I thought all this had stopped a long time ago."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, it's common knowledge that he was taunted in his first and second year. He was a rather weak boy back then, much weaker than the last time he came in here. I used to clean up all his wounds and cuts and dry up his tears up and tell him that if he was good none of this would happen to him...He never was a troublesome child though." As Pomfrey reminisced, the guilt and sadness welled in me further.
Severus was on his back on the narrow bed, his body so limp it was as if no life had ever possessed him.
"When will he get better?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say it'd take that long... I can heal his wounds and ease his pain, but some illnesses depend on whether the sufferer is willing to get better. Some wounds are too deep to heal."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You can help by getting yourself to bed, Mr. Lupin and leaving the rest up to me. But if you insist, you can help me take his robes off. Complicated these things are."
"All right..."
Awkwardly, I undid the snake-skin belt of his robes and awkwardly began to undo the button on his robes. I could see why Pomfrey asked me to do the task; being a boy, she probably thought I'd feel less awkward. His skin is so thin, so pale and everywhere I could see the precursor of bruising. The familiarity of his slightly protruding ribcage, the lean, long torso, the narrow hips was almost a relief to me. The contrast between the markings of the bruising and sickly smoothness of his skin was horrifying.
"Merlin, they're all over him..." I whispered.
Pomfrey heard me, turned and tutted. "Oh, they really did a thorough job of it..."
I could feel my skin burn; my best friends did this. They laughed at him, they laughed at me. Yet I couldn't besmirch them, I couldn't dob them in... They were the only people who liked me. Without them I'd be alone.
"Can I do anything else?"
"No, Mr. Lupin. I'm half in mind to tell someone that you're out this late, but I'm glad you brought him to me. Good night."
I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to return to my dorm room where Sirius and James would be.
"Good night." And I left.
~
His breath is stifled, straining out of his throat, a small frown on his forehead and a twitch of those lips. Finally, he's waking, life is stirring within him. I feel a flutter of excitement. I've had to be careful in my visits to him, making sure that Sirius and James are in Quidditch Practice. I can't suppress a smile.
"Severus? Severus?" I whisper, stroking his left temple, feeling him turn in my direction and those gorgeous dark eyes open and look at me.
A fleeting moment of bliss crosses his face, but it only lasts for seconds before it sinks into a frown, a protective distaste.
"You're awake..."
"Re- Lupin..." he swallows bitterly, his eyes shadowed with a self-contempt, with weakness, with bitterness.
"I brought you some chocolate frogs..."
"Stay away from me..." every word is strained. He turns away from me, he shields his face with his arm, he winces as he drags his sheet over him shamefully. He doesn't even glance at the chocolate frogs although I can feel he's tempted.
"Severus...You're better..."
"Go away!" His voice is more forceful and harsh. I'm glad Pomfrey's in the next room. "I don't want to be better! I want to get away from here! I want to get away from you!"
I want to hold him, soothe his anger and his despair, I want to kiss his temples and tell him he's fine, that I want to protect him. He's shivering and hurting.
"I know it's my fault, but I had no idea they were after you…"
"Stay away from me…Please…" There's so much anguish in his voice, I don't quite understand his hatred. "I want to be alone…"
"I'm so sorry, Severus… It shouldn't have happened."
"Call me Snape. I don't care anymore. You're not sorry. This happens all the time." Another thrill of pain works through him and he shivers a little. "I'm used to it. I'm used to it all…So run back to your stupid clan of friends…"
"No, please…I just want to stay. You're not feeling well. I'll look after you… I swear…" I blink back the tears.
"Then keep them away from me. Keep Black and Potter away from me."
I swallow dryly. I know it's impossible, he knows it too, but I'll pretend, we'll both pretend.
"I will, Severus. I'll look after you from now on."
He sighs, I stroke the side of a gaunt, bruised cheek and he takes my hand delicately and kisses my fingers softly.
"Thank you."
Author's Note: Erg, I'm extremely sorry for not updating in a long time. It's my new years resolution to only write one story at a time and this one is first on my list. I'm really sorry. Well here's the next, extremely belated, chapter...
Chapter Five: Promises
From Remus's POV...
_______________________
He still hasn't regained consciousness. He looks almost dead in his deep sleep. The bruises have healed a little, yet I can still see the misty pinks upon the mound of his top cheek. His eyelids are a soft purple, his serene lips straight and expressionless. There is no anger, no self-contempt, no frustration, no hurt, no hatred, no guilt nor disgust in the contours of that young face. He finally looks his age, if not younger, in his element and no longer suffering. Sometimes I wish I could bend down and kiss him, feel his warmth, his tenderness, just as I did the night I gave myself to him. How can anyone harm him when he looks so vulnerable? His whole body seems to have shrunk, there's no pride in him, no intensity, just a sweet surrender to unconsciousness. I wonder where his mind is now, what he's thinking or whether he's even dreaming. For he doesn't look like he's in this world.
I will never forget the moment I found Severus, just lying there outside of the Prefect's bathroom. Sirius and James stalked in with smug grins on their faces and blood on their knuckles. They usually got into fights, sometimes with each other, that was no surprise, but it was the sick, evil glint in their eyes that made me shiver, that made me realise there was something more to this than another brawl.
"We took care of him for you, Remus." When James spoke those words a cold dread slid through me. I swallowed; there was no time to be angry or contemptuous.
"Where?"
Sirius barked with laughter, that cocky pride in his grin, the blood specked on his white shirt cuff. I felt sick.
"Where what, Moony?"
"Where is he?" I remember the tremble in my voice, the involuntarily shaking, the fury I knew must be contained.
James was folding up the invisibility cloak in a civilised fashion; I could smell the thrill of excitement on him, electric, like a burn, not a single trace of guilt in his mind. Surely it couldn't have been that bad; yet there was the blood, the blood that looked more than just a scratch, more than just a little teasing and pushing about. They had hurt him.
"Well...let's just say..." James said leanly, with a yawn in his voice, "...he needs a greater wash up now than he did before..."
The bathroom, he was a prefect wasn't he? They were looking at me with a hideous satisfaction; maybe they did hate me, maybe they were disgusted at me because I was queer. Things would never be the same again. Those leers would never leave their faces.
"I'd leave him there to rot if I were you, Moony. Filth like him deserves it."
You mean -filth like me- I thought angrily. I fled out of the dorm room desperate to find Severus and save him from whatever damage they had done.
When I rushed down to the Prefect's Bathroom, taking a few wrong turnings and cursing myself at my inability to navigate myself, all I could think of was -it's my fault, it's my fault-. There he was: hunched by the door, his head leaning loosely against the edge. He wore the same expression then as he does now as I sit here by his side at Pomfrey's sweeping a few loose strands from his face. There was blood trickling from the left corner of his mouth and his nose was bloodied badly; his whole face was beaten, the tenderness of bruising awakening from him. Everything was incongruous to that strange, peaceful expression on his face, as if he was happy for it to have all stopped.
I levitated him to Pomfrey's as fast as I could, frightened to touch even a part of him. He seemed so helpless, like I'd never seen him before, so unguarded, so harmless even. He was my age; he wasn't stronger than I was, nor better equipped than me, he was no more deserving of being beaten and punished than I was, and yet here he was, bruised and bleeding, because I was stupid enough to ask his help.
When Pomfrey saw him, she looked unsurprised but disappointed nonetheless.
"Not that Snape boy again..." she sighed with concern and exasperation in her voice." Usher him in, usher him in..."
She told me to lay him on the bed. Awkwardly I did so and I felt tears prick the front of my eyes.
"What are you doing out so late? Do you know who did this?"
Sirius and James, Sirius and James my mind seemed to chant but my voice faltered and said instead, "I don't know, miss. I- I thought I heard something and well, I did. H-he was just there... I didn't really have time to think who it was... He's not exactly...the most popular boy in the school."
"Poor, poor child... Children can be terrible sometimes." she tutted, "I thought all this had stopped a long time ago."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, it's common knowledge that he was taunted in his first and second year. He was a rather weak boy back then, much weaker than the last time he came in here. I used to clean up all his wounds and cuts and dry up his tears up and tell him that if he was good none of this would happen to him...He never was a troublesome child though." As Pomfrey reminisced, the guilt and sadness welled in me further.
Severus was on his back on the narrow bed, his body so limp it was as if no life had ever possessed him.
"When will he get better?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say it'd take that long... I can heal his wounds and ease his pain, but some illnesses depend on whether the sufferer is willing to get better. Some wounds are too deep to heal."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You can help by getting yourself to bed, Mr. Lupin and leaving the rest up to me. But if you insist, you can help me take his robes off. Complicated these things are."
"All right..."
Awkwardly, I undid the snake-skin belt of his robes and awkwardly began to undo the button on his robes. I could see why Pomfrey asked me to do the task; being a boy, she probably thought I'd feel less awkward. His skin is so thin, so pale and everywhere I could see the precursor of bruising. The familiarity of his slightly protruding ribcage, the lean, long torso, the narrow hips was almost a relief to me. The contrast between the markings of the bruising and sickly smoothness of his skin was horrifying.
"Merlin, they're all over him..." I whispered.
Pomfrey heard me, turned and tutted. "Oh, they really did a thorough job of it..."
I could feel my skin burn; my best friends did this. They laughed at him, they laughed at me. Yet I couldn't besmirch them, I couldn't dob them in... They were the only people who liked me. Without them I'd be alone.
"Can I do anything else?"
"No, Mr. Lupin. I'm half in mind to tell someone that you're out this late, but I'm glad you brought him to me. Good night."
I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to return to my dorm room where Sirius and James would be.
"Good night." And I left.
~
His breath is stifled, straining out of his throat, a small frown on his forehead and a twitch of those lips. Finally, he's waking, life is stirring within him. I feel a flutter of excitement. I've had to be careful in my visits to him, making sure that Sirius and James are in Quidditch Practice. I can't suppress a smile.
"Severus? Severus?" I whisper, stroking his left temple, feeling him turn in my direction and those gorgeous dark eyes open and look at me.
A fleeting moment of bliss crosses his face, but it only lasts for seconds before it sinks into a frown, a protective distaste.
"You're awake..."
"Re- Lupin..." he swallows bitterly, his eyes shadowed with a self-contempt, with weakness, with bitterness.
"I brought you some chocolate frogs..."
"Stay away from me..." every word is strained. He turns away from me, he shields his face with his arm, he winces as he drags his sheet over him shamefully. He doesn't even glance at the chocolate frogs although I can feel he's tempted.
"Severus...You're better..."
"Go away!" His voice is more forceful and harsh. I'm glad Pomfrey's in the next room. "I don't want to be better! I want to get away from here! I want to get away from you!"
I want to hold him, soothe his anger and his despair, I want to kiss his temples and tell him he's fine, that I want to protect him. He's shivering and hurting.
"I know it's my fault, but I had no idea they were after you…"
"Stay away from me…Please…" There's so much anguish in his voice, I don't quite understand his hatred. "I want to be alone…"
"I'm so sorry, Severus… It shouldn't have happened."
"Call me Snape. I don't care anymore. You're not sorry. This happens all the time." Another thrill of pain works through him and he shivers a little. "I'm used to it. I'm used to it all…So run back to your stupid clan of friends…"
"No, please…I just want to stay. You're not feeling well. I'll look after you… I swear…" I blink back the tears.
"Then keep them away from me. Keep Black and Potter away from me."
I swallow dryly. I know it's impossible, he knows it too, but I'll pretend, we'll both pretend.
"I will, Severus. I'll look after you from now on."
He sighs, I stroke the side of a gaunt, bruised cheek and he takes my hand delicately and kisses my fingers softly.
"Thank you."