For I am Weak

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Chapter one: The Things We Want
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November 20th

Severus Snape paused, just for a moment, to glance at Harry Potter, who was sitting at the desk in front of him, staring blankly at the wall above Severus' head. The sort of single-minded focus he was exhibiting made Severus a touch uneasy, as well as a little annoyed.

He could easily pay attention to a gray stone wall for hours, but heaven forbid he put forth any effort into his potions class… That was just too much to ask for.

He'd been like this for weeks though, just…blank and staring. Glassy green eyes reflecting the world around him, while giving no actual insight into the teen himself.

Then again, Severus wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on in Potter's head anyway, he had the strange feeling no one really wanted to know what went on in the head of the Boy-Who-Lived. In fact, if the growing darkness in Harry's eyes were any indication, what went on his head would give the bravest of men nightmares.

Because Harry had seen and been through things that would give have those same 'brave' men wet themselves in terror. He had faced down the Dark Lord more than once, seen people he cared for die so that he could live a while longer, and was preparing for a fight no mere boy should have been expected to fight.

And yet he was.

Expected to fight that was, because of a scar he bore on his forehead, because of a freak accident and his foolish mother giving up everything just to protect her child, because…because Voldemort had this strange obsession with the Potter family.

Because Snape hadn't found out about it quickly enough.

Not that he felt any particular amount of guilt for the death of Lily and James Potter, as he hadn't really cared much for the man and thought the woman as idiot for getting involved with such a pathetic excuse for a man. So no, he wasn't sad or upset or remorseful that they had died; he honestly hadn't lost even an instant of sleep thinking of them.

He did however feel a small pang when he thought about what their son was going through, simply because he had lived. Not pity, he knew better than to pity the likes of Harry Potter, because the boy had potential that was as close to limitless as one could imagine. So no, not an ounce of pity for a boy who could destroy them all if he ever was of the mind to do so. Not that Harry would ever be of such a mind…he still retained that small spark of purity, that goodness and that selfless will to do right that had made his mother such an…intriguing woman.

For a Muggle-born anyway.

He didn't pity Potter…perhaps couldn't pity him. And he didn't feel guilt for allowing him to become an orphan and walk this path his life was now set upon. He did however…feel…something for helping the boy along that path. It wasn't right, in any sense that Harry had to go through this.

It was killing him. He was less Harry, the smiling bright eyes boy who'd entered Hogwarts, eager for adventure and magic six years prior, and more…a pretty Harry shaped shell.

To thank that Severus was to aid in his training, to make him more efficient in the war…it was wrong. Potter was just a child, in some sense…to ask so much of him seemed so much like raping someone, stealing a person's ability to choose their own future for themselves.

Not that there was anything he could do about it now.

He let his eyes take in the boy carefully. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd ever looked at Potter, but most of the time, of course, he tried to keep his gaze detached and impersonal. No need for the brat to know that Severus thought he was rather attractive, in a dark and…empty sort of way. The way he closed himself off to everything and everyone around him made him darkly attractive, like…like the china dolls Narcissa Malfoy had used to collect in anticipation for the daughter she never got.

Not that Draco wasn't an acceptable substitute.

Potter has seemed to be slipping into a depression of sorts ever since he and Weasley had broken off their little love affair. Severus wasn't sure what he should make of that little event. On one hand he'd no longer find the two of them red and mussed in dark corner, but he also would lose one of his favorite things to taunt them about it class.

And really, being a teacher had so few bright spots and opportunities for actual amusement, he had to take them where he could get them. A man couldn't live on red marks alone…

Potter had really becoming an interesting subject over the years and, a part of Severus' brain sneered, he had some nerve in doing so. And, even as he become more interesting, his grades didn't increase and he certainly didn't pay any more attention in class.

But really, it was too much to ask that he have a student who actually lived up to their potential. Draco Malfoy, tragic case that that child was, was much the same way. He had a brilliant mind and generations of pure blood flowing through his veins, yet he preferred to have a lot of idiots do his work and skate through life.

He was much his father's child in that fashion, lazy and content to live off the hard work of those around him, without so much as lifting a finger himself. And probably a lot like Lucius in other ways that Severus' was much too old and attached to the boy to contemplate.

"Potter." he said finally, putting a grade on the last of the essays. "Do you have a particular reason for wandering around the dungeons so far after curfew?"

The boy blinked to attention then shrugged slightly. "Maybe."

"Would you care to share this reasoning with me?" Severus didn't bother to keep the acid from his tone. Potter was more than used to it and sometimes he was sure the only way he could hope to penetrate that thick skull was by being twice as harsh with him as with other students.

The boy actually blushed. Pale pink spread across his features and Severus had to confess it was the most emotion the boy had exhibited since Black had been foolish enough to get himself killed. It made him…intrigued to say the very least.

"I needed to…uh, talk to you."

"Oh. I don't suppose there's a chance this is about re-starting your lessons this year." Severus was sure it was too much to ask for, but it never hurt to find out. There was still a good deal he could attempt to cram into that boy's skull, if he could just get Harry to sit still and pay attention for more than thirty seconds.

The boy was silent for a moment and Severus was sure he had his answer. He pushed his seat back and crossed his arms over his chest, making a small gesture for Harry to go ahead and say whatever it was he had snuck out of Gryffindor Tower to say.

"I'm not exactly sure how to put this." The boy admitted.

"Bluntly would suffice. I do not have a limitless amount of time."

"Oh. Right." He looked up, green eyes almost black with some emotion that Severus' couldn't name. Hell, the fact there was any emotion was a little disturbing. "I want you to fuck me."

Severus just stared for a moment, then put a finger to his wrists, to check to make sure he still had an actual pulse to speak of and hadn't suddenly died from acute shock. But, alas, he was still breathing. So much for that theory.

That meant he had to actually deal with this.

"Are you insane?"

"It's a possibility." Harry said, lips twitching. "I don't think that has anything to do with this though."

"I would beg to differ." Severus rolled his eyes. "I…understand you may be lonely, since your split with Mr. Weasley, though why you'd miss such a buffoon is, I can admit, beyond my understanding. But that is hardly a reason to try and-"

"I don't miss Ron." Harry snorted. "We didn't…brake up like everyone thinks. We decided, together, that we weren't what we needed anymore. We…wanted the same thing."

"And here I thought that was a good thing." He deadpanned.

"Not…the same thing, in a good way. We wanted the same thing in a lover." Again his cheeks colored, as if the word 'lover' was something to be embarrassed about. Such a child. "And since neither one of us was…that, we decided to look elsewhere." He looked up anxiously. "So I don't miss him."

That was interesting, if not slightly more maturity than he would have thought possible for the two of them. Then again, Potter wasn't the only one who'd been subjected to some…fairly horrifying things over the past six years. And Weasley had held up fairly well…maybe there was something beyond those stupidly vacant blue eyes.

It was a thought anyway.

"Well, enlighten me Mr. Potter. What traits are you looking for that you think your old bastard, bat of a teacher has?"

"You're strong." Harry wrapped his arms around himself and for a second he looked…utterly fragile and breakable and Severus really didn't like the suddenly prospects that were flitting through his mind. Honestly, he wasn't a horny child anymore; a little self-control wouldn't be such a horrible thing.

"I mean…I'm tired, you know? I'm tired of being the one people turn to, the one who has to save the day, the person that everyone is after for some reason…I'm so tired of pretending to be normal when it becomes more and more clear every year that I can't be." He sighed. "I don't want to have to be strong anymore, but I know I have to be. I want…I need, someone who won't make me do it anymore. I need someone who'll take control of me."

Severus wondered if Potter had just implied he was a control freak. Which, of course, he was, but that was hardly the point. For a moment he just stared at the boy, body itching at the memories of a time long since past, when he'd been confronted with another boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to let go of control.

Of course, that boy had grown up, gotten married, had a son, and then had the gall to name him the child's godfather. Then again, Lucius had always been possessed by the sickest sense of humor, so perhaps it was to be expected.

Finally.

"Potter, I have no desire to be your father."

Harry scowled, a touch of that familiar fire sparking. "I don't want you to be my father, with all due respect. I've had a father, and a Godfather for that matter, and neither worked out that well. I'm in no hurry for another."

Severus arched an eyebrow. Smart ass. Something in the back of his mind pointed out he'd always liked the difficult ones the most. If a person was too easy to dominate all the fun and point was lost very quickly…

He imagined Harry was not the type to ever fully submit to anyone.

…

Not that he had any intention of finding out. If nothing else, Harry was his student and he could, at the very least, be fired for even having less than pure thoughts about him. Like now for instance…

"Allow me to rephrase that Potter, I have no desire to be your Daddy." For a moment Harry looked if he planned to protest again, than the apparent connotation of the word sunk in and he swallowed, looking at a loss for a moment. Then he let out a breath.

"So don't. I understand that you can't really…do what I ask. I understand you aren't interested in me that way." Oh how little Harry knew. "But…just once. Please."

"I could lose my job."

"You hate your job."

Severus was silent, because he did have a point. He hated this job with a passion, as he didn't like watching hundreds of kids with great potential spend seven years here and achieve nothing. Sure, the few worthwhile students he had made it bearable…but really, being a teacher was a lot more depressing that most people would realize.

He only stayed out of obligation to Albus…and, God, Albus.

"Dumbledore would have me killed." He muttered, and then shot Harry a look daring him to argue. Because Dumbledore would find out, because that old coot had the nerve to know everything that went on in this damnable castle.

Harry sucked in a breath then stood up, head bowed. "I understand." He started towards the door.

Severus watched him for a moment then rolled his eyes heavenward, though he supposed he should have been looking in the other direction. He was surely going to rot in hell.

"Get over here Potter."