No Inhibitions Ch2

"Oh my! Place him there. Quickly!"

Madam Pomfrey directed the professor to a vacant bed to the left of the hospital wing. She gently cradled Harry's shoulders in order to prop his upper body onto a pillow.

"Severus, hold his hand. Gently! I need to remove these bandages."

Snape rested Harry's hand in his as Pomfrey unbound the wrappings. The wound was still gushing blood profusely, and his arm was turning a sickly purple tone. Madam Pomfrey conjured a wet washcloth and handed it to the obviously uncomfortable potions master.

"Press this to the cut. Hard! We need to stop the flow of blood."

She scurried across the room to a large cabinet that held a number of healing potions, and searched through them hurriedly. Snape was holding the cloth to the wound. He used its damp edges to wipe of the blood that had dripped down the sides of Harry's arm. Pomfrey returned with a clear salve of some kind. She moved the cloth and applied a liberal amount to the now clean wound. The blood was sealed beneath the coating.

"That should do it. Don't move! Keep his arm elevated, that salve needs to be exposed to air so that it can properly allow the wound to heal. Once it is fully sealed I'll administer a blood-replenishing potion. He'll be fine by morning."

'Not likely,' Snape thought dryly.

"Now, tell me Severus… Did he do this to himself?" Her voice was clearly full of distress.

"He did. But, it wasn't fully on his own accord." Snape couldn't bring himself to say 'It was my fault,' though he felt fully responsible. Madam Pomfrey seemed to sense that he didn't want to tell her the whole story.

"Well, I'll get the headmaster. I can only do so much for the boy… but I suspect that the scar on his wrist will cause him as much pain as the one on his head… that poor boy." She turned away with tears in her eyes as she exited the hospital wing.

Snape whispered the statement she had just made… "Poor boy." It didn't seem right to say that in reference to the son of Lily and James Potter. He had always imagined the boy being privileged and arrogant. He was aware of all the hardships the boy had faced, but "poor" didn't describe him at all. Harry had fame, he had friends, and he had the backing of the entire wizarding world!

'If that were true, then what compelled the boy to do this? He couldn't have wanted attention. That potion was brewed accurately, and by Hermione Granger no less! It couldn't be wrong! So, maybe he didn't want fame so much. But he does have friends… two of them. It couldn't have been Sirius. The boy hardly new the man!'

A million reasons ran through his head. He could think of none that made sense. The only thing he was sure of was that the boy truly wanted to die… and he must have had good cause as well. Harry Potter was NOT week.

Snape still cradled Harry's hand in his. He saw that the purple tone to his skin was still present. The boy's hand was thin, and fragile. Harry was fragile, and this realization scared him. He was overall to skinny for his age. He had paleness to his skin, even before this incident. Snape mused that it must have been from his lack of outdoor activity. In earlier years, he had a healthy tan look from quidditch, and he was well toned. Now, his skin looks too tight for his frame, and he has dark circles under his eyes. 'He looks sickly, fragile, and lonely. Poor boy...'

The headmaster entered the hospital wing, with Madam Pomfrey on his heals. He took a moment to observe the sight. After all, it's not every day you see the Boy-Who-Lived with his much hated potions master holding his hand after a public suicide attempt.

"Poppy, will you leave us for a moment."

Dumbledore stood next to Harry's still form. His eyes looked older than usual. He looked regretful and guilty, much like how Snape felt.

"What have I done to you," he whispered.

Snape was confused at the statement. "Headmaster. It was my doing. I made Potter drink a No Inhibitions potion, and this was the result. Believe me Albus, I did not intend for this to happen." Snape couldn't will himself to hold his head high and look at the headmaster as he usually did.

"No Severus. This was beyond your doing, and it should have been expected long ago. I am to blame most of all."

"What are you on about?"

"It began with my decision to put him in a home with his muggle relatives, and to keep the wizarding world a secret from him. Were you aware that they kept him in a cupboard?"

Snap was startled. He had always envisioned Harry in a loving home where his relatives would fret over him constantly. But… "a cupboard?"

"Yes. They despise anything 'abnormal,' and Harry fits that definition perfectly. I knew this, but I kept him there because I believed it was best." The headmaster gave a heavy sigh. He looked weak, and tired.

"I have kept many things from him, Severus, all because I believed it to be for his own good. He has been denied so many things in his life. His parents, a loving family, and last year, he was stripped of the one thing that had always driven him and gave him his strength."

"Which was…"

"Hope. Severus. I have taken that from him. Almost immediately after his godfather's death… I showed him the prophecy. I will tell you only that his future will hold either death or murder. I was a fool to tell him that in such a fragile state of mind. He's just a boy. The entire wizarding world relies on his strength, but we have expected too much. He's a child…" Dumbledore was failing at his attempt to hold back tears. Snape just watched him. He was once again at a loss for words. Two of the strongest wizards of the age had broken down in front of him, in the same day.

"I fear, Severus, that our savior has given up. Tell me… did he say anything to you?"

"Yes… he said… let me go."

TBC