Little seed of evil

Disclaimers: Harry James Potter and all other characters from that same universe belong to JK Rowling. However, the plot is mine.

Rating: R .

Summary: An adult, tired Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position after facing a lot of emotional dilemmas.

I have a new Harry Potter story out, for those who were not yet aware of it: "When Armageddon ends". Please go and read it if you liked this story.

Little seed of evil – Chapter eleven – Lapis

Even though the dream hurts me I don't change anything

I opened a new door...

I continue into the expanding world

I could embrace this body until it hurts

I could hurt myself

In order to become just a little bit stronger...

I just... keep walking on the endlessly continuing road


When their gazes at last interlocked, Harry saw far too much in those eyes, things that he now vaguely understood, things he had not been able to understand as the student in Snape's class. He was the first one to tear his eyes away from those obsidian eyes. And Severus Snape had done the same thing, only now there was a big smirk on his face. Why? Because he had discovered yet another fact?

Harry staggered slightly, out of emotion and of pain, and his right hand unconsciously clutched his left arm, although the dark mark did not burn. It was a reflex, a mere reflex, but he had never thought that his reflex would cause so much commotion. He saw McGonagall's eyes widen up, Pomfrey who opened and closed her mouth as if she was a fish, and Snape who almost threw his chair backwards in order to get him out of here before everyone would know that he was a death eater. But they all, more or less, behaved. Poppy Pomfrey was cut short by a glance  from McGonagall, and McGonagall took her duty seriously, and became emotionless soon enough. Snape sank back into his chair, after staring at him for a single moment, which to Harry had seemed like hours.

But the pain could not be ignored. He had tried to ignore it last night, had tried to ignore it right now, during this ridiculous meeting, but it was still there, wasn't it? Ignoring things always made them worse. Harry groaned quietly and he hoped that none of them had heard his small slip of the mind.

"Sorry, but other matters await me. I do not see the need to remain here." He swiftly turned around, forcing his body to perform that movement perfectly well, and left the room before anyone had the chance to complain. He walked through the hallways in the same manner he had left the room until he had reached one of the more secluded hallways in the castle.

Only then he allowed his body to break down, only then did he sink down to his knees and did he bury his head in his hands. His hands, shaking like those of an old man, clutched ruthlessly at his hair, as if he wanted to tear chunks out of it.

When had the pain become too much? Perhaps it was Hogwarts, the teachers, the memories, the young, innocent students. Around every corner of this dammed castle he expected to see the young , innocent Hermoine with a thick book in her tiny hands, and Ron behind her, smiling broadly about something funny that had happened just seconds ago. He expected to see Ginny somewhere, and all the others. He didn't care or if they had been Slytherins or not, he missed them. Most of them were far away and gone, or changed, like Hermoine . It hurt him to see her as the broken witch she was now, huddled somewhere in a tiny room in the basement of the Ministry of magic.

He had lost all track of time, huddled into the miserable heap he was now, his limbs searing with pain, his head too full with unanswered questions.

Severus Snape had, after Harry ran out of the room, excused himself as well, but in a more polite way, and had limped out of the room, his knee searing with pain already. The pain had kicked in too soon and the salve he had applied to it last night had not helped a bit. Limping as fast as he could, he followed the sound of Harry's hurried footsteps, until he heard them no longer. Using his instincts to find him, Severus found Harry Potter sitting in a secluded corner of the castle, huddled into a miserable heap of pity.

Severus barely could believe his eyes. What he had seen only minutes earlier had only been the tip of the iceberg. Behind this reserved and slightly cruel behaviour, lurked a vulnerable and broken Harry Potter, more broken then he had perceived him to be. Perhaps there were more reasons behind the taking of the Dark Mark. He would certainly have to ask for once, but now he needed to re-collect whatever there was left of Potter and bring him to his quarters before one of those annoying teachers would come and ask some more questions again.

He bent over, and grabbed Harry's right arm, avoided the dark mark as his long and pale fingers enclosed around his arm and pulled the body of Harry Potter upright. The boy opened his eyes, almost full of tears. Whether it were tears out of physical pain, or something else, he could not tell. But he could tell, from the spasms that went through this skinny body, that he was in severe in pain. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, he was already contemplating to make him a salve, a potion that could get him rid of the pain for a few hours, but something else did also tell him that he would not want this.

As he confessed to him that fateful night, he needed that pain.

But some sense awakened inside of Potter's troubled soul, and he tore his arm free from his soft grip.

 "I don't need your help. Far from it.", he spat out angrily, as he stood there wavering and staggering weakly, barely able to stand on his legs. His knees looked like they'd give away any second now.

"Okay, Potter. See for yourself."

His voice, he hoped , sounded like the mocking teacher he had been almost a decade ago. And when Potter moved his legs, he did not drop to the floor instantly; a knee did give away, but he found support against a pillar, a dusty old pillar against the wall. Resuming this game of proving him that he was strong enough, and most certainly not too weak yet to break down anywhere near his environments , Potter started a long and painful walk back to his private rooms.

Severus kept an eye him, though, ready towards run him if he should fall; to see Potter in this way strangely enough breaking something inside of him; so young, and yet so troubled. For the ones who had predicted that Harry Potter was to live a happy, worriless life after the War, he wished he could cast a spell upon them. Who was ever to think this, was to be proven to be terribly wrong. But Potter had made it to his quarters without falling over from the pain. Once he was out of sight, Severus stormed down to his own dungeons.

The potions shelves were lined with  painkillers, and the likes. Painkillers, the one stronger than the other. He had tried them all; and he was sure that half of them would not even work in Harry's case. He selected a purple coloured salve, one he had tried, and later abandoned, for it gave far too many unwanted after-effects. But it was likely to work for Potter, if only the bastard would accept his help.

But he needed a moment of calm. Getting worked up was not going to solve anything at all. He let himself drop into one of the luxurious , velvet lined chairs, enjoying the soft touch of the fabric. Whoever had invented velvet, deserved a treat. He threw his head backwards, and let it rest on the edge of the high backed chair.

Harry Potter lay on the ground of his own chambers now,  panting, trying to ignore the pain. If only he could just make that pain go away now, before the Dark Lord would summon him one more time … He had ignored the callings for too long now, and he knew that a next calling was not far off. 

His owl, Hermes, was looking at him, seated on the cupboard,  head cocked, eyes opened large and wide. He hooted and flapped his wings once.

"Yes, Hermes, I know." Harry stuttered, his voice barely audible. He knew that he should get some help, even it was from Pomfrey or … Snape. But he didn't want that help. Every time he started to trust people, things would happen he had no control over. Harry weakly shook his head, a sob caught in his throat. Dumbledore, Pomfrey … people he had trusted earlier on. Strange how a simple matter as trust could be destroyed so quickly.

But perhaps he had betrayed their trust as well. Had he not? Instead of growing up to be a family man, surrounded by 4 or 5 kids, he had ended up like this. A hurt, broken man who hurt his own students.

The door opened. Slumping footsteps. Snape. Strong arms who helped him to get up and settled down in his chair. Cold hands who skilfully removed his robes and  applied some salve to his scars and wounds.

Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of those cold hands against his skin, and tried not to whimper in pain. It hurt, yes.  Even not those cold hands could diminish that. Even though they tried. He could not deny that.

" It will stop hurting soon. For a while at least." Severus wiped off his hands at his robes as he looked down at him. "And next time, Potter, please do tell me that you are in pain. I know what pain is all about, and it is not … fun to live with it."

"Now. Why?"

Severus sat down on the bed, and looked at the seemingly calm body that sat in front of him. "Why did you hurt my students?"

Harry smirked uneasily. This man would not give up until he had gotten the true answer, now would he? Fine. He would give him the truth. "Because the future will not be nice to them. No need to spare them. Constant vigilance it is. And constant vigilance it will be."

"They are not Aurors, Potter. They are merely students." Snape's voice sounded cold, as if he still could not understand.

"When I was their age, I did far more dangerous things. I knew that I would end up like this. I just knew."

Harry opened his eyes and stared into those black eyes. "You are the teacher I always loathed. And every single time again, you gave me more reasons to hate you. The occlumency lessons. The fact you always pounded on the fact that I was just like my father. The way you seemed to hate me, the way I was your  outlet of anger in class."

Severus Snape merely nodded now and then, to show him that he was listening, but not necessarily agreeing. Time had faded away most of those feelings of hatred against Harry, this much he knew.

"Your father, Harry, was a … jerk. And my opinion on that will never change. Your mother, though, was a sweet little thing. I never understood why she got around with those idiots. And now, the more I look at you, the more I realize that you are indeed not like your father. And only now I realize that you have the eyes of your mother. Green like emerald."

Snape looked around him, eyeing Harry Potter's quarters with clear disgust. "Now, Potter, do something about these quarters. They are disgusting." And with those words, Severus Snape left the rooms.