A/N: All right, since you people are so demanding (heh, yeah right...like there's even that many people that read this) I updated this next chapter. So, here it is, Chapter 3 of More Pain Than I Can Bear. Oh, and it's told from Snape's PoV now, not Harry's...just a word to the wise there.
Disclaimer: I love Harry Potter, but I don't think J.K. Rowling knows that, so she hasn't given me the rights to the book yet, meaning I don't own it. Let me just get on her good side, and we'll see what happens...
Chapter 3
Snape's eyes became as big as hubcaps as he looked down at Harry, and he felt his mouth slide open. Harry was still lying on the floor, his body writhing around. And he was screaming. For every muscle spasm that he felt, Harry screamed louder.
However, even over his howling screams, you could still here Hermione's cries. She too was screaming, and tears were flooding her cheeks. Ron was next to her, holding her shoulders, but not saying anything. Like Snape, his mouth and eyes were wide opened, and he seemed petrified. Even Lupin didn't seem to be able to move; he just watched Harry, as his own tears sidled over his eyelids.
Snape was the first one to come to his senses. He quickly pulled out his wand and shouted the counter-curse at Harry's body, which, although the curse had been lifted, was still shaking horribly. Hermione's sobs grew, if possible, even louder, and she flung herself onto the ground.
"Harry!" she sobbed, moving over to him. "Wake up Harry, wake up!" Ron slowly moved over to her, taking her in his arms and holding her, while she continued to sob into Ron's chest, telling Harry all the while to wake up.
Lupin was still sitting in the exact same spot, and was still staring at Harry. He didn't seem to be in the room with everyone else. Tears were still pouring down his cheeks, and his eyes had a glassy finish to them.
Snape was still shocked, but quickly put everything behind him. If no one else was going to take charge, he felt that he should. Especially since, though he would never admit it out loud, this was partially his fault.
"Weasley," he said, kneeling down on the floor next to Ron, who looked into Snape's face. "Take Miss Granger to the study, and lay her down on the couch. Then, I will need you to inform Dumbledore immediately and let him know what has happened to Harry. Tell him to come here right away, and to bring Madame Pomfrey. After doing so, fetch your mother, and see if she can calm Miss Granger down. I expect you to stay with her after that. Understand?"
Ron nodded to show he got the message, and stood up with Hermione in his arms. She was still clinging to his chest, sobbing, and although she kept saying Harry's name, she seemed to be totally unaware of what was going on around her. Ron quickly made his way to the door, and they could hear him thundering down the stairs.
Next, Snape turned to Lupin. "Lupin," he said, and Lupin looked up at him, his eyes still glossy. "Err, are you all right?"
He couldn't believe that he was asking him this, but he knew that he had to. The man just looked at him, his head tilted to the side a bit. Snape knew that he was like Hermione – in such a state of shock that he didn't really notice much else. Snape sighed, and moved over to sit next to him. Then he placed an awkward hand on his back, and told him it was going to be okay.
Suddenly, Lupin did something that Snape never expected him to do. He started to sob. And then he placed his folded arms on Snape's shoulder, and wept into them. Snape was so shocked at first, he didn't know what to do. He had never seen Lupin sob before – or even cry, for that matter – and this seemed unusual to him. And he never, in his whole life, would have thought that this man, his enemy, would be sobbing on his shoulder. But since the situation was so weird already, he decided to just place his arms around the man next to him and embrace him, since he didn't know what else to do.
While Lupin was still sobbing uncontrollably into his arms, Snape looked over at Harry, who was still shaking. He knew that he should do something for him, but he didn't know what. He still couldn't believe what he had done to himself – he had actually, willingly, placed the Cruciatus Curse onto himself. And all of the things that he had said before that...
Snape never knew how hard his life really was. He always thought that Dumbledore's little Golden Boy had had an easy life, full of everything he wanted, people waiting on him day and night.
But he realized now that he had been completely wrong. He just always assumed that Harry craved all the attention he got, but it was apparent that he didn't. It was like a burden to him, and he had already faced so many deaths and troubles and worries in his life, and there were still more to come. He was surprised that the boy hadn't just cracked before this and gone completely insane, and he was in impressed with him for not doing so.
He was so young, and yet, he had stood up to every single bad thing that ever came crashing in on his life, and by the sound of things, he never once thought of himself. He was, as the Dark Lord said, a 'little hero'. Snape had always known that. However, he had always thought of that as bad, where as now, he appreciated Potter for it. He never thought of what could happen to him; he only cared about the people or things that were in danger because of the bad things that were going on.
In his first year, when the Sorcerer's Stone was being sought by Voldemort, and he went to save it, he had been standing up for his friends and Hogwarts; Hell, he had been standing up for the entire wizarding world then, and he was only eleven. In his second year, he had been trying to save his best friends' younger sister when he went into the Chamber of Secrets.
In his third year, he had risked his life going after a murderer to avenge his parents' death. Even after he found that the whole thing had been a mistake, his risked his life to save that man, and took on a whole crowd of Dementors. Then in his fourth year, he had been placed into the Triwizard Tournament unwillingly, and yet he stayed in it for his school. And at the end of the year, he had fought a fully 'reincarnated' Voldemort in order to avenge Cedric's death.
Then finally, throughout his whole fifth year, he had stood up and defied Umbridge, loosing his ability to play Quidditch, his privilege to go to Hogsmeade, and had had to attend detentions with her, where, as he just pointed out, he had had his hand cut open every night, just so that others would be safe and could know the truth. And, judging by Lupin's reactions, Snape wasn't the only one who didn't know about the hand thing. It appeared only Ron and Hermione knew, and he was sure that was by accident, meaning that he never complained about it.
And then, at the end of the school year, he had the guts to break into Umbridge's office, use her fireplace, stand up to her, leave her in the Forbidden Forest, fly to the Ministry of Magic in the dead of night, and go into the Department of Mysteries, all to find his godfather.
Suddenly, Snape realized just how brave this boy was. He was truly surprised that he hadn't snapped earlier; to be able to hold it out for this long was truly a miracle. He completely understood why Harry was in Gryffindor now: it took so much courage to do all of these things, and not go insane after witnessing or accomplishing them. He supposed that when his godfather died, that was just the icing on the cake, and he finally couldn't handle it anymore. He suddenly felt something he had never felt towards Harry before: he pitied the boy.
No, he didn't pity him. Pity was when you felt sorry for them and didn't really mean it all. No, Severus Snape sympathized Harry. He felt for him everything that had gone wrong in his life, and was now overwhelmed with shame. How could he have tortured this poor boy in front of him without ever getting to know him, just because he held a grudge against his father?
Snape didn't know what was wrong with his emotions today, for he gently moved Lupin a bit, and extended his arms towards Harry. He grasped the shaking boy in his hands, and pulled him over by his blood-soaked chest. He carefully rested the boy's chest and head in his lap, and wrapped one arm around him, while wrapping his other around Lupin, who seemed to have passed out from everything that had gone on.
Harry slowly stopped shaking, and just came to rest in Snape's lap, apparently sleeping as well. Snape just looked down at the boy, who had been, and was still, going through so much. He looked at his chest, which was slowly moving up and down with each gentle breath he took. Then he looked at the boy's clothes, which were completely soaked in blood, causing them to cling to his body.
Snape realized how horribly skinny Harry was. It was hard to tell with his robes on, since they were larger and they covered him, but now that he looked at him, his clothes sucking in against his body, he didn't think that the now sixteen-year-old could have weighed more than one hundred twenty pounds. He also noticed how white the boys skin looked from cooping himself up inside all summer long. It was starting to remind the professor of his own, though it was still slightly darker.
He moved his eyes down Harry's arms, looking at the deep cut on his left wrist, which was still bleeding excessively. He took the boy's hand gently into his own and examined the wound. It was deep; at least and inch and a quarter thick, and he could slightly see a hint of white peeking out of it. He quickly moved his arm around the boy to his pocket, and pulled out his wand, muttering a spell that sent bandages floating from the tip of his wand to Harry's wrist, wrapping themselves around the wound.
Placing the hand on Harry's chest, he slipped his wand back into his pocket. His eyes traveled up now, and looked into Harry's face. He had never really looked him full-on in the face before, because every time he did, he was reminded of James. However, as he looked into his face, his noticed the distinct differences. His nose was slightly shorter than James' was, and he also had a few freckles resting on the very tip of it. His eyes, he knew, though they were closed, were a startling green, exactly the color that Lily's had been. And then there was the scar.
The only evidence left of the night that the Dark Lord had killed Harry's parents happened to be this very scar that rested on his forehead. Snape studied it, taking in the intricate details of it's shape, noticing how red it had become from the pain Harry was in. He slowly stuck out his finger, and gently ran it over the mark.
Harry suddenly twitched, making Snape retract his hand almost instantly. He looked into Harry's face, and saw that, underneath his round, black glasses, those emerald orbs were half-open, looking glazed. Snape was startled at first; what would Harry do when he found out that he was lying in his most hated professor's lap?
However, he just blinked once, and shut his eyes again, resting them, and Snape let out a small sigh of relief. Then, he heard soft, hurried footsteps running up the stairs, and Dumbledore entered the room. The ancient Headmaster was looking old as ever, and his blue eyes were completely devoid of their normal twinkle. His lips were also formed into a small frown, and it grew wider as he looked at Harry lying on the floor.
Once his eyes took in the scene with Snape, though, the smallest flicker of a smile met his old, soft lips, and his eyes showed some amusement, returning a very dull twinkle to them.
"Severus," he said, greeting Snape, who just nodded, feeling himself grow slightly red in the face. "I'm pleased to see that you have been taking care of everyone here." His eyes went to Harry, who was lying in Snape's lap, and then went and lingered on his shoulder where Lupin was resting. Snape cleared his throat, and tried to gently move Lupin off of him and rest him against the bed, just as Madame Pomfrey came in.
She too smiled at the scene in front of her, before fully realizing that Harry was covered in blood. She gasped. "Oh my – Merlin, Severus! What happened to him?"
Snape looked up at her a moment, before diverting his eyes back to Harry. "He cut himself, Poppy," he said.
"How?" she asked him, worry in her voice. "He must have hit something pretty hard to have made him get a cut bad enough to bleed this much."
Snape looked up at her, anger in his voice now. "For Merlin's sake, Poppy!" he said, and she looked flustered. "He didn't cut himself by hitting something! He cut himself by taking a shard of glass and flailing over his wrist! He's hurting himself! He's a cutter!"
He was practically screaming by the end of the sentence to a very shocked Madame Pomfrey, yet he was still a little startled when Harry stirred.
"Is he awake?" Dumbledore asked suddenly. Snape looked down at Harry again, who had stopped moving, and shook his head.
"No, I think the Cruciatus Curse hurt him enough afterwards to knock him out for a little while."
Madame Pomfrey gasped again, and Dumbledore looked alarmed. "He was hit by the Cruciatus Curse? How?"
Snape shut his eyes and diverted them away from the two again. "He used it on himself." Once again, just as he predicted, Madame Pomfrey gasped, and Dumbledore moved over to Harry so suddenly, Snape was a little alarmed.
He looked down at Harry, who's chest was still moving up and down in time with his breathing, and then slowly stood up again. "Poppy," he said, turning to the school nurse. "He will not be coming back to Hogwarts. The journey would be too much for him, even by Portkey or Floo. You will have to tend to him here, where he will remain."
Madame Pomfrey nodded, and her eyes still showed worry. Then Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Severus, I thank you greatly for your help. You may go now, so that Poppy can tend to Harry."
Snape stood up while holding Harry gently in his arms and set him on the bed, but didn't move from the room.
"Headmaster, if I might, could I, err, uh-"
Dumbledore smiled, knowing exactly what Snape was about to say. "Yes, of course, Severus. You may stay with Harry."
Snape stood awkwardly, looking at Dumbledore, whose eyes seemed to regain their normal twinkle, and whose lips formed back into that classic benign smile beneath his long, white beard. He then made his way over to Lupin.
"Poor lad," he said, frowning a bit. "He seems to be really shaken up. Poppy, if I could have you examine Mr. Lupin here when you're done with Harry, it would be much appreciated."
Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Of course," she said to Dumbledore. "The poor dear is probably just exhausted. It is close to a full moon, you know, and this must have made him quite active."
"I'm sure it did," Dumbeldore replied, and he flicked to wand so that Lupin was hovering in front of him. He then made his way to the door, and turned around to face them both. "I'll just leave the two of you here to help Harry then, shall I?" And he walked from the room.
They both looked after him for a while, before turning and looking back at Harry.
"Well," Poppy said heavily. "We should get to work." Snape nodded, and the two stood next to Harry, who was still lying in the same position on the bed.
"We should probably get him out of these clothes first," Poppy said, staring down at his blood-covered clothes. Although she was a nurse, and had probably seen worse things, she still looked slightly uncomposed as she grabbed at Harry's robes.
"Let me do it, Poppy," Snape said, taking the fabric she was holding away from her. She looked up into his face for a second before walking over to the side of the room, where she began to pull out various potions from a brown leather bag that she had brought.
Snape gently removed the robe around Harry's body, and tossed it aside on the floor. He then grabbed the top button on his shirt and unfastened it, and then did the same to the rest of them, until he had opened all of the buttons. He pulled off the sleeves of the shirt, while being extra careful while going over his wounded wrist.
As he made to toss aside the shirt, he noticed something on Harry's shoulder. He lifted the boy's back a bit, so as to glance at the shoulders more clearly, and almost dropped him after doing so. There, etched into his skin, were four small fingernail marks, each about an eighth of an inch deep, dried blood smeared around their edges. Snape gasped slightly, and Madame Pomfrey came over.
"Professor, what is i-" she started, but was interrupted by one of her own gasps. She looked down at the marks, and then looked up at Snape. "He did this to himself?" she asked Snape, and he shut his eyes, shaking his head slowly. "Then who-"
But she seemed to suddenly realize just who, for Snape felt a hand being laid on his shoulder. "Severus?" she said, her voice soft and motherly. Snape didn't say anything. He just stood there, hating himself for what he had done. He had caused so much pain upon this child verbally, and now here he was, causing physical pain upon him as well. Merlin, couldn't he ever do anything right?
He was determined not to cry. Never had he felt such the urge to do so; at least not since his mother had died when he was in school. He bit his inner lip, and tried to choke back the tears. Poppy seemed to realize what he was doing, for she gently rubbed his back, and whispered that it would be all right, much like what he had done to Lupin earlier.
Snape suddenly found from somewhere inside of him that boasting, arrogant Slytherin pride, and held back the tears, lifting up his head to face the boy in front of him. He wasn't going to cry; at least, not in front of anyone, right here. He quickly took the shirt that was still clutched in his hands, and gently placed it on the floor. Then, he moved aside so that Poppy could do her work on him.
He went and sat over in a chair by the large, oak dressing cabinet by the wall, and waited for Poppy to be done. His eyes lingered over to the floor where Harry had been laying, and noticed a pool of blood on the floor that had poured from his wrists. Snape felt slightly nauseous looking at it, and quickly looked down at his hands. Within a matter of about five minutes, Poppy was done, and Snape went over and examined the boy on the bed.
Harry's wrist was completely wrapped in new bandages, and his shoulder had a few gauze strips covering the small fingernail wounds. However, his face was still dirty and tear-streaked, and still had the swipe of blood across it. He was also still wearing his blood-stained pants, and had no shirt, so Snape decided to take over the rest of it, and quickly conjured up a wash cloth and bowl of water with his wand.
"Well, if you want to take it from here then, I'm going to go check on Remus," Poppy said, smiling slightly at him. "Let me know if he has any more problems. I'll check back in an hour or so to see if he's awake yet." And then she too left the room, leaving only Harry with Snape. He quickly took the bowl he had just conjured and set it on the night stand, before taking the cloth and dipping it into the water. He ran the warm, damp cloth over Harry's face, and softly rubbed at the stains.
Within minutes, his face was clean, and it looked fine. He then proceeded to pull the covers over Harry, but realized that he still was wearing his blood stained pants. Not being a person to just take others pants off, Snape flicked his wand, and Harry's pants were replaced with black pajama bottoms. He then went to fix him with a shirt, but Harry's upper body caught his attention again.
He looked even smaller without his shirt on – his skin was practically clinging to his bones, and you could actually see the outline of his ribs against the skin. He looked like he hadn't eaten in months, which, Snape reminded himself, was probably half true. He knew that it hadn't been months, but had been days at least, maybe even a week or longer.
He quickly flicked his wand again, replacing Harry's bare chest with a black shirt. He then placed the boy under the sheets, and pulled the covers up to his shoulders.
However, his hands grazed the spot where the bandages on his shoulder were, and he stopped suddenly again. He looked back down at the faint outline of the gauze strips that you could see through the pajama top, and he felt the familiar crying sensation sweep over him once again. He was not going to cry. He was not going to cry. He was not going to cry.
"Merlin, why the hell did I have to do that to him?" he quietly whispered to the room. "If his life wasn't hell enough, I've added so much more to it now." It wasn't until he felt a hand on his cheek that he noticed the tears that were falling down them for the first time in over twenty years. He was startled by the hand that was touching him, and jumped back suddenly.
But as he looked up, he saw that it was Harry, and that he had been wiping the tears off of his face. The boy looked tired and exhausted, but seemed to know full well what he was doing.
"Harry?" he asked softly, and Harry smiled slightly up at him. The Potion's Master looked over at him, almost smiling out of relief, but caught himself in time. He couldn't let Harry see him like this; he quickly wiped his face and made to stand up, but Harry grabbed him with his right arm, and he stopped.
Harry was looking up at him with almost pleading eyes. "Please, don't leave," he said.
"You'd rather have your friends in here than me," Snape said, but kneeled down again anyway. Harry looked over at him, emerald meeting onyx, and finally spoke again.
"It's not your fault," he said to Snape, his voice barely audible.
"What did you say?"" Snape asked him quietly, eyeing Harry intently.
"It's not your fault," Harry told him, his voice a little louder and more firm.
Snape didn't believe what he was hearing - Harry Potter, the person who he thought had always hated him, was being civil. In fact, he was telling him that it wasn't his fault for what had happened. Any other time, Snape would have thought that Harry would blame him for anything that would have gone wrong, but here he was, doing the exact opposite.
"Harry," Snape said, and then stopped, trying to find the right words. However, he could only think of one thing that would truly sum up what he had to say. "Why?"
Harry laughed slightly, but then looked into Snape's eyes, seeing how sincere they were, and told him. "Because," he told him, and Snape rolled his eyes. Harry chuckled again. "Because," he repeated. "I feel like I need you to be here. I don't know why, but I do. I can understand if you want to leave; I mean, I know you hate me, so you should have every right to. But, somehow, I feel like you should be here."
Harry's words stung. Snape wasn't sure why, but they did. He felt like he had been slapped across the face when Harry said that he, Snape, hated him.
"I don't hate you, Harry," he said softly, looking down at his hands, which were resting on the boy's arm. Harry snorted, but at Snape's look, he quickly stopped again. "I don't, Harry. I can't hate you. Not after what I heard. I will admit that I've thought that I hated you before, but the truth is, I don't. Especially now that I know everything that you've been through. It would be absolutely cruel to hate you now, especially when I have no reason to do so."
Harry looked shocked. "You don't hate me?" he asked Snape, who felt like he had been slapped again.
"No, I don't," he replied, looking down again. "But you should every right to hate me."
"But the thing is, I don't either," Harry told him, and Snape once again looked into his eyes. "I know I act like a real pain in the ass most of the time, but it's only because I'm always so angry, and I feel like I need to let it all out on someone. So I let it out on you. I realize how wrong I've been this whole time."
Snape, again, couldn't believe that Harry was saying this to him. He suddenly felt very warmly towards the boy for telling him this.
"It's all right Harry," he said, meeting his eyes again. "I haven't exactly been the best person in the world either."
Again, Harry just laughed softly, and Snape half-smiled, something that was very rare for him. However, Harry started coughing hard, and Snape looked up at him, and placed a hand on his back, supporting him. Harry raised his right hand to his mouth to cover it, and while it was there, Snape noticed faint, thin lines on it that caught in the light.
Harry finished coughing, and was lowering his hand, when Snape grabbed it. He looked at it, and found that the marks were small letters, that looked like Harry had taken a knife and was writing on his hand. When he studied the words closer, he could see that the words spelled out 'I must not tell lies.'
So, you like? Let me know by reviewing, because reviews make me happy. These people made me happy with the last chapter: Ahmad53832, FroBoy, foolishangel87, and yellowpages.
To Ahmad53832: I'm glad to know you like the story so far. Oh, and I'd love to read your story. I'll try to do that tonight before I log off.
To FroBoy: Yes, I love being able to change things around to suit my stories. It makes it fun! Though, I don't see why you couldn't use the Curse on yourself...hmm...I should go ponder this...
To foolishangel87: I'm glad you like the story, and I'm thrilled to know it's going in your favorites! Yay!
To yellowpages: lol. Glad to know you still like it.
Well, check tomorrow for the next chapter!
Hugs,
SiriusBlack4Ever
