Title: Spoken
Author: Sandolious
Contact: Krp. PG
Pairings: Past HP/SS; Current SS/HG; Current HG/RW; Slight Friendship-ish HP/DM; Other pairings include NL/LL
Genre: Angst; Drama.
Warnings: Gen, Mentions of Slash, Hetero, Mild Harry Torture, Language
Type: One-shot may be two parter.
Arc: Words; Story 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in association with the Harry Potter series.
Summery: Betrayal is never forgotten. An ex-lover's strife to survive.
Words: As of 1/31 2938
Author's Warning: This is a continuation requested by the majority of people who reviewed 'Unspoken.' As such it would benefit the viewer to read that first. Also, thank you to all the readers who reviewed 'Unspoken' and gave me the inspiration to continue. Hopefully this story will be met with the same response. I am currently looking for a beta reader for the other stories I am plotting for this arc/series and for a long ss/hp AU story I am writing, which does deal slightly with religion and a good deal with angels and demons. If you are interested, simply e-mail me. Thanks to all the readers who enjoy this fic.
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Spoken
It was a cold December in Oregon when snow flurries filled the artic air. The same year Headmaster Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall decided to visit the states with all the children who where staying at Hogwarts during the holiday, there was a freak snow storm. So they were stuck in a large magical mansion on the out skirts of Boring with a good majority of the Order, the Faculty, and eight students. The more notable additions to the odd group were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Charms Professor Draco Malfoy, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom and his wife Luna Lovegood.
The mansion, hidden from muggles much like Hogwarts, was five stories, two wings, a basement, 35 large bed rooms, 40 bathrooms, a lounge, ballroom, kitchen, dining hall, library, pitch, anything and everything. Most rooms were done in earth tones, blues or whites.
Beyond the living quarters there was a tension mounting between several of the adults. The upper years watched in anticipation as palpable tension reached it peak the day before Christmas Eve.
The Golden Trio, once know for their inseparability were now scattered. Harry could be found most of the time with the students, teaching them tricks or late at night in the unused library nursing a bottle and smoking cigarettes. On those nights he would pace in front of the large open fireplace. Dumbledore and McGonagall were the only ones brave enough to venture into the room when Harry drank.
Ron would be found outside on the pitch flying with some of the children or the order; he could be found playing chess or speaking privately with Hermione. When they had first arrived, he tried to talk to Harry however the encounter turned ugly when he was blasted from the room with wandless magic and was unable to speak for several hours. He then decided to let Harry cool down before speaking to him, the second encounter was oddly silent for the occupants of the mansion.
A group had gathered around the door of the room Harry and Ron went into and waited for the impending battle but were greeted with silence. A half hour later, Ron threw open the door and stepped out, slamming it closed. His cloths were tattered and he looked to be under some curses which had not let up. He stalked to his room and locked the door. He was not seen until a few days later.
The confrontation with Hermione was the one to set the students on edge though. After Harry and Ron's silent fight, Hermione confronted Harry in front of the group that night at dinner. She vented brutally on Harry for his actions and once she was done, properly chastising him, she waited for his reaction; waited for him to apologize. Harry though, stood tall under her attack. He looked at her with apathy and never spoke a word. This enraged her and she made to slap him. He caught her wrist and leaned in, whispering into her ear. The children sat at the table watching, while the adults had risen to their feet to stop any fight that might have arisen.
Hermione paled to a sickly white while Harry whispered to her. Tears formed in her eyes and she began to shake. She gasped, covering her mouth with her trembling hand. Harry pulled away, dropping her wrist and watched her race out of the room. He watched Snape throw down his napkin and snarl, going after her. He then made his way back to his seat between McGonagall and Neville, taking a deep sip of wine.
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently from his place next to McGonagall, blue eyes clouded in worry. Harry took another sip of his wine before facing the Headmaster. The rest of the group was silent, hoping to find out what he had whispered to Hermione.
"Yes, Albus?" Harry smiled slightly, voice and eyes dull.
"May I ask about this recent occurrence?"
"She made the very vocal accusation that I had purposely attacked Ron for my own pleasure because I was jealous of him. I thought it would be prudent to tell her the truth behind the fight." Harry stated calmly, looking directly into Albus' blue eyes. They stayed, eyes locked, for several long moments before Albus looked away, stroking his beard.
"Indeed."
Harry nodded, then excused himself from the table and mentioned to the students he was still up for a game of Special Tactics on the fifth floor of the East Wing once they were ready, before leaving. And that was the moment tension between the three had risen and continued to rise.
There was a point, a few days later, where Severus tried to talk to Harry, but Harry simply shook his head and made his way out of the lounge where he was had been talking with Dumbledore and Malfoy. He paused at the door way, and spoke in a clear calm voice.
"It isn't your responsibility anymore, Snape. This is between Hermione and I. You are not part of the equation. Not anymore. I am not your responsibility and you are not mine. Your words." Harry then left, locking himself into the library for the rest of the day and night. Had he looked back into the room, Dumbledore and Malfoy would have looked curious while Snape briefly looked hurt before his face was shuttered tightly.
Harry sat curled securely in the corner of the couch in the front of the glowing fireplace. The library lay dusty; novels, tomes and texts covered in ancient dust. A low howl ran across the aging floorboards causing a slight stir in the plush graying blue carpet. Candles floated around the edges of the room battling the shadows, an evenly matched emissary.
Harry's eyes focused on the flickering flames, the warmth radiating from the cobblestone mantle. He wasn't seeing the fire though; he was reliving a moment in time. A moment long forgotten when emotion ruled over the logic of the mind; a moment when he gave in, to impending doom.
Harry stood pacing in Albus' office four years after graduation, face flushed with emotion. Frustration, anger, sadness, depression, fury; a mixture of many emotions simmering under the surface of his consciousness.
"How long Albus?" Harry paused in front of the fireplace, looking lost, a tidal wave of emotions breaking against his mind.
"How long what, Harry?" the aged wizard asked kindly from behind the desk, following Harry's movement with his eyes.
"How long will it last? How long would he stay with me? How long?"
"Harry, you need to relax.."
"No! Damn it Albus! How long will he want me? How long until he decides I am not what he thought? How long until he regains his senses?"
"Harry…"
"Why me Albus? Why me? I.. cant match me physically… mentally… intelligently. I know, just know, he wants someone who can spar with him on an intellectual level, and I can't do it Albus…"
"And you don't need to. You don't give yourself enough credit. Severus loves you. And you will be together as long as you are fated to."
"Not reassuring Albus. I love him; will love him long after he leaves me. You know why Albus?"
"No, Harry. Why?" Indulging for a moment in the young man's logic.
"Because I am just another peg. Another puzzle. Something he has yet to figure out and is thus intrigued, interested. After… after he will search for someone with more refined tastes. For someone with the intellectual capacity to hold their own in a conversation of the inner workings of asphodel in the dreamless sleep potion and how changing that could result in an exponential number of problems and possibilities. I am just not that person." Harry finished collapsing into a high backed chair, sighing in defeat.
"Harry you need to trust in Severus' love for you, all of you. As a package."
"You just aren't understanding, are you. I would bet my freedom and soul on the fact, Severus will end our relationship for someone who far different then me. We, however, are supposed to live in the time we are given. So if you will excuse me headmaster. I have a lover to meet." Harry finished standing before Albus, face controlled, observing his mentor before stepping into the floo.
Harry went to the meeting place early and found Severus and Hermione sitting, chatting happily away. He stayed in the shadows and watched their interaction, watched how beautiful they would be, watched the body language and lingering touches, watched his life narrow to a pin prick. Watched everything inside his being grow cold and freeze over. Watched as she leaves ten minutes before he is suppose to show, watched as he shatters irreparably in the shadows watching his lover sip his tea. Then he forces everything into a locked box thrusting it deep into his mind, plastering on a smile and meeting his lover for lunch.
Shaking his head, clearing away the images of their descending relationship, Harry shifts, turning his eyes away from the fire and surveys the room, nodding to the blond 26 year old occupying the worn high backed leather chair to the right of the couch. He closes his eyes, breathing in the library deeply. Wishing he could absorb the knowledge it contains through the particles floating heavily in the air.
"Potter." The smooth voice of the icy Slytherin sliced through the calm silence. Harry turned his head towards the man, eyes closed, attention focused.
"Harry. Whatever happens between you and Snape, when it finally ends, know you are the better one of this. Know even as an arrogant Gryffindor, he was wrong in his actions. And if you are ever ready to talk. Well, my door is always locked and warded. You could release some stress." Soft jaded grey eyes stared intently at his weary companion, sighing at the slight nod he was given before standing. Draco picked up the throw at the unoccupied end of the couch, tucked it around Harry's long lean body and squeezed his shoulder in comfort before leaving the room and locking the door behind him.
The rest of the night before Christmas Eve was calm and quiet. Harry heard several people knock at the library trying to gain entrance and every time they were not admitted. As the morning sun approached lighting the sky one fire, Harry stirred from his dreamless sleep on the plush couch. His eyes traveled over the dimly lit room, across the dust covered bookshelves. He stared blankly over the rest of the room, hoping in the back of his mind, this life would make sense and he would just understand it all. The pain throbbing in his chest ebbed and flowed as the days progressed. Making his pain known every moment he was awake or unconscious. It was determined to win in this battle of wills.
Shifting, Harry dislodged the blanket Draco had placed on him last night after their talk. He stretched out his tight muscles, relaxing his stressed body and let out a soft sigh. Standing he arched his back, popping vertebrae, and moaned in delicious relief. He paused abruptly in his stretches as a chuckle from the door way alerted him of a visitor. Tensing, he stood ridged and turned towards the intruder. Sighing silently in grief.
"Severus." Harry nodded, emotions shut down and locked away. He fell back into the couch, numb.
"Harry. Some things never change." The Slytherin's silky voice floated as he made his way to the same seat Draco had occupied the previous night. Harry remained unresponsive to the comment. Severus spent several long moments studying his ex-lover; searching for changes, for differences. He cataloged the man's face and body.
"Harry, I would like for you to tell me why you are breaking your relationship with two people you have known for over ten years. Why just destroy something so rare?" Harry stared at the empty fireplace. He told the ashes of his pain. Of a hurt running the length of his soul. He told the embers of his heart and life, of the scars he hides away and those so visibly seen.
"Did you know Severus…" Harry began calmly, staring at the intricate design of the cobblestone mantle, "All our pictures, mementos… our life captured moment by moment. Fragment by fragment. Were gathered and put together in a lovely stack. Our love and your current love mingling together…placed kindly on a piece of wood in my fireplace." Harry trailed off, smiling slightly at the memory.
"Harry? Love?" Severus questioned, irritated by the line of conscious thought falling from his companion's lips. Harry shuttered and flinched at the endearment before continuing, voice devoid of feeling.
"I spoke the spell softly, my voice caressing our love. I watched them turn to ash. Watched you burn with both of us. Watched the embers lick at you as you smiled at your fiancé. I let go that day. Destroyed all the evidence of our love. Cut you dully out of my life." Harry finished. The room was silent as Snape sat back shocked by his ex-lover. He thought the boy would bounce back. Fall for someone else. After a while, Harry spoke again, voice agitated.
"Leave Snape. Go… love your fiancé. I have no reason to tell you why. I don't answer to you. Or Hermione. Or Ron."
"Harry! I need to help. This is hurting her so deeply. I don't want her to hurt. So just… Stop acting like an immature child!" Severus snarled, standing from his seat to tower over Harry, glaring.
"Of course. It could never be anyone else but me being the problem. The immature factor. You are absolutely right Severus. Some things never change." Harry icily stated, venom lacing his words.
"For the love of… You Potter, have a track record of being an irrational irresponsible cad of a man who puts his selfish wants before anyone else's well being. You are a brat who sits back waiting for everything to fall into your lap; who can't hold your own in a fight and would stand back cowardly pushing everyone else in front of a deadly curse just to save yourself. You are a narcissistic piece of dirt without emotion who will eventually kill everyone that has ever cared in the slightest about you. Then again, you started young didn't you? 15 months old right?" Severus growled, tongue sharply striking the young man where it would hurt the most. Immediately attacking the weak spot on his soul and mind. Harry stood, toe to toe with the man he loved. The man who let him go. His eyes flashed, calling for blood. His magic cracked loudly in the room, barely restrained.
"For a human that was disgraceful. For a wizard, abhorrently rude. But for the snake you are… that was far beyond cruel and inhumane. It's no wonder Voldemort recruited you so diligently." Harry growled, tightly controlling his magic as he stormed from the library and down the flights of stairs to the ballroom, where the students were gathered playing Special Operations.
"You have ten seconds to level this room. Please." Harry whispered angrily. The student paused in their game and left instantly once they saw the wild look in Harry's eyes. Once the last child was gone from the room, Harry warded the room against the out burst that was going to come. He briefly heard pounding on the locked doors as the initial outburst of magic was wrenched from him. He fell to his knees screaming as burst after painful burst rippled from his flesh.
The wards held through the whole ordeal until there simply wasn't anything left. Harry was sprawled on the hard wood floor panting heavily trying to keep his heart from ripping through his chest. Only minutes later did the wards fall and people rush to his side. The stench of magic hung in the air, choking several of the children who stood in the door way, watching as their professors helped their savior to his feet. They watched as he faltered and weakly protested all their help. And as he passed, held up by Professors Longbottom and Malfoy, they saw his eyes. Bloodshot, puffy, jaded and dead. There was no life in their hero. His soul had shriveled away and turned to dust when attacked. It reminded the older children of the dementors. Soulless and broken.
After several hours of rest in his bedroom, Harry slunk around the halls to take refuge in his sanctuary. The fire had long died and stone cove grown cold. The candles flickered as matchstick lights guiding but not illuminating. Making his way to the couch, Harry sat heavily. The harsh words of both Severus and Hermione still echoing in his ears. He sat perched on the edge of the couch, elbow on knees; face hidden in hands. His head felt too full. The pressure growing with every emotion, every word.
He shivered in the dull candle light, alone in the dead library. At the moment it was simply too much. Lifting his head, he bleakly stared at the cold, hard, unforgiving fireplace. His green eyes stared the scorch marks and ruins of ash. Followed the rows of uneven cobblestone. Took in all the pieces together for the impressive fireplace. And as he observed the stone, he built a wall. Then another. Continuing until he had a fortress around his soul. His heart. He lay brick after brick. Stone after stone. Protecting himself from the outside world.
Late into the night he built.
Safety in stone.