Paradise Found
Chapter Five
Forbidden Heaven
Harry's eyes became fixed upon his professor's and he felt a slight probing of his mind. 'Get out of my head, Snape! Get out! GET OUT!'
'Make me, Potter,' came the haughty reply.
Harry watched helplessly as countless images from his life flashed through his mind. Finally one image surfaced above all the rest. Harry felt a burning rage coil inside his chest as the image of his godfather's shocked expression flew backwards, enveloped by the still black curtains. 'STOP!' But Snape didn't stop, he continued ruthlessly to show Sirius' descent into the veil.
'Make me, Potter! Look at him, how pathetic he looks. The imbecile didn't know just when to stay home! Watch as the whipped dog is done away with forever. The menace. I certainly shed no tears. But I bet you did, didn't you! Cried like a baby, because you broke your plaything. That's all he was to you, wasn't he, Potter? Just a plaything…a mere. Stuffed. Dog.'
The coil of rage exploded in Harry's chest and rumbled away from him like ripples of stone and rock. Around him he could hear the chaos erupt as Death Eaters collapsed and Voldemort started a curse. And just as suddenly as the tidal wave of heat and fury had erupted, it had moved away. Opening his eyes, which had squeezed shut when he had been listening to Snape, Harry focused his vision on the crouched figure before him. Feeling a surge of victory, Harry watched as his professor struggled to stand and grasp his forearm. "Hold on, Potter," said Snape, his voice rasping.
The next instant, Harry felt a familiar tug behind his naval and the world around him faded. When they landed, Harry felt his legs collapse underneath him but someone strong and wiry clutched him under his arms and around his chest.
"Open your mouth, Potter," said the dark voice above him. When he steadfastly kept his lips firmly locked, Snape snarled something indecipherable and Harry felt his mouth forced open and something liquid poured between his teeth. Feeling his consciousness begin to slip, he let his eyes close and could have sworn he heard a voice mutter, "Sweet Merlin, no!" But it was too late and he felt all life abandon him.
Snape scowled darkly at the unconscious form that sagged against him. Finding his wand, he snapped out a levitation charm and guided the teen through a doorway and into a small, drafty cottage. Shack would probably be a better term as the professor took in its dismal interior. Finding the cot near the far wall, he gently spelled the boy onto its surprisingly sturdy frame. The fireplace was covered with dust and the wood within it looked more likely to crumble at the sight of a match than actually burn. Nevertheless, Severus flicked his wand and watched as a small fire sprang to life to crackle merrily at his grim visage. Rooting around in a nearly collapsed cupboard, Severus found a spare blanket, three bowls, a mug, a glass, a tea cup, and a dead rodent that was halfway decomposed. Disposing of the carcass, he spelled the blanket warm and draped it over Potter's shivering form, muttering about babysitting useless Gryffindors who couldn't stay safe.
Several minutes ticked by slowly before the form on the cot shifted and brought Snape's attention from the window pane to the pale form. "Potter?"
The boy's breath caught and his face turned into a frown. Suddenly, his eyes opened and blinked several times. Snape watched all of this with a bored expression and fought to contain any biting comments to himself as the boy slowly sat up and looked around blearily, squinting against the light from the fire. A yawn overcame him and he scratched at the nape of his neck absently, wincing at something that originated in his chest where he clutched subconsciously.
Frowning in thought, Severus crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him, contemplating what could be affecting the brat now. The sound of rustling cloth must've drawn the attention of the teen, because his head snapped up and he glanced warily at Snape's wall.
"Who's there?"
Intrigued on how bad Potter's eyesight really was, he refrained from answering but took three steps forward, away from the wall. Potter apparently could hear better than he could see, because he listened intently to the almost soundless noise his feet made. When he stopped Potter wasn't looking at the wall anymore, instead he was looking at the floor, almost exactly where his shoes were. He hadn't fully stepped away from the shadows and the light from the fire was still several steps away. Taking a few more steps, Severus stopped just within the line of glowing red light and narrowed his eyes as he studied the boy in front of him. Potter seemed to be built of nothing but tension, his eyes looking at him warily.
Neither said anything for a few moments before Snape took a few more steps, coming to a stop within arms length of the cot.
"Professor?" Harry's voice was strained and raspy, causing Snape's frown to deepen, which in turn caused Harry to back up on the cot and shoot him furtive glances.
"Yes, Potter?" Snape's frown vanished beneath a mask of indifference and Harry seemed to relax somewhat.
"Um…What happened?"
"Now is not the time to discuss the fruition of your irresponsible Gryffindor behavior and the lengths that others had to go to save your selfish hide."
Harry sat against the wall his cot was shoved up against and absorbed this in annoyance. "Where are we now?"
"A safe house." Snape was not liking the rasping noise that Potter made when he spoke.
"And…?" When no response was forthcoming Harry tried again," Where is that?"
"Where we are; are you in pain?"
Frustrated at the evasion of his question, Harry did a quick analysis of his physical condition and nodded slightly.
When he got no further response, Snape gave an exaggerated sigh, "Well, where!"
Jumping slightly, Harry cleared his throat. "Er…well, everywhere, um, sir."
Heaving another sigh and muttering something about avoiding Albus' wrath, Snape dug around in his robes for a few moments before pulling out several vials and miniature glass bottles. Snape set the vials and bottles on a table that had been placed in the center of the room; Harry watched as the older man lined them up and seemed to come to a conflict within himself. Picking up two vials and one of the glass bottles, he returned to Harry and gave him the bottle first and told him to swallow half.
Harry took the bottle and turned it around in his fingers and gave his Potions Master a serious look. "You're kidding, right?"
"Potter, you will drink what I give you; whether it is of your own volition or not is up to you."
"What is it?" Snape seemed to barely be able to restrain from doing something violent.
"It is a mild calming draught to help you rest as I see to your injuries." Despite the contents of what he had to say Snape's eyes and the set of his jaw spoke murder if Harry didn't shut up and drink it.
Harry's eyes widened fractionally. "Oh. Um, okay then." Downing half the potion, Harry felt his limbs go numb and a floating sensation travel throughout his body. Snape appeared to be satisfied and with a wave of his wand, the torn, dirty piece of cloth which acted as a shirt vanished.
Through his drug induced haze, Harry summoned enough energy to protest. "Calm yourself, Potter, I'm merely assessing the extent of your injuries."
Snape's frigid pale hands poked and prodded at Harry's cuts, bruises, and injuries methodically and the occasional thoughtful noise was interrupted only by Harry's weary objections. Finally Snape finished poking him; Harry was sure he did it harder than was strictly necessary, and stepped back a bit. "This is beyond my expertise; we must get you to a Healer." Summoning his cloak from a peg on the wall, Snape wrapped the dark, wool material around Harry's shoulders and muttered a light cleaning charm. "Sleep," he commanded and Harry didn't argue.
When he woke up the next morning, Harry got a better look around him in the light streaming from a window on the opposite wall. Golden yellow light highlighted the floor and single table. Yawning, Harry sat up stiffly and felt the blanket around him bare a shoulder. Surprised, he remembered when Snape had spelled his shirt away and then later charmed him devoid of the grime which had covered him from head to toe. His skin felt incredibly dry as a result but he preferred it to the filthy feeling which he was sure would never completely leave him unless he bathed for a few days straight. Still feeling sleepy, Harry rubbed his eyes and face roughly and blinked several times. The motion sent pain shooting through his arms and slight tremors made his arms and hands almost uncontrollable. Looking around the room blankly for a moment, he started violently when he noticed a black figure sitting on a chair at the foot of his bed.
Not receiving any sarcastic comments for several long moments, Harry gradually noticed the figure's shoulders were slightly slumped, a dark curtain of hair falling forward as the chin rested slightly on his chest. Deep, methodic breathing broke the silence and Harry watched fascinated at his professor doing something so human. The peaceful morning silence was suddenly shattered by a loud crack. Like a puppet Snape was jerked awake and on his feet before Harry had even had time to recognize the sound of someone Apparating.
Harry watched as Snape motioned for silence and stalked toward the door, peering through what must've been some sort of hole or crack. All seemed to be in order because Snape opened the door and silently ushered whoever was outside in.
"He needs a Healer," said Snape tersely. Harry couldn't see his face but imagined he had a fixed look of annoyance on it.
The figure that had entered, though fuzzy, was brown and slightly shorter than Snape. "Well, I should think so, can he be Joint Apparated?" a man's voice asked, the sound familiar to Harry's ears.
"I would not risk it; he's undergone several very dark curses which could be antagonized by the force of the movement. Did Albus send a Portkey with you?" Harry marveled at how Snape could fit so much malice and irritation into each word.
Though a moment later he blanched at the thought of a Portkey, mentally picturing his stomach finding its way on the ground where they landed. But thankfully the brown man answered negatively, "I don't think that would be a wise idea, Portkey would be even worse for him." The man's next suggestion didn't sound very promising either, though, "Floo?"
"No powder, and the network will most likely be watched," Snape said in his most condescending tone.
"Then we have no other alternative than Joint Apparition," the stranger concluded. Harry could just picture the scowl on Snape's face as he gave affirmation. "Very well, you take him then. I need to speak with Albus immediately."
"He'll be at Headquarters, he's opening a window for us to Apparate in."
"Why didn't you say this before?" Snape demanded. "When does the window open? When will it close? Fool, we could have missed it!"
The man didn't flinch from Snape's tone and instead responded, "Relax, Severus, the window opens in ten minutes, I was merely seeing if we had any other options before we risked his life through such drastic measures. Are you ready, Mr. Potter?"
Startled at being addressed, Harry dumbly nodded his head, squinting his eyes at the both of them. "Do I know you?"
"Ah, I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced." The brown figure paced forward and stretched out his arm. "I'm Zacharias Harper, I'll be your new professor this year."
"Oh." Well, that explains why Snape hates him so much.
"Such an eloquent Gryffindor," said Snape snidely, moving around the room. Occasionally Harry could hear the clink of bottles moving together.
Soon enough Snape had his potions gathered and was satisfied the room was in order. Harry was spelled feather-light and charmed to keep completely still, but he wasn't aware what had happened until he was in Snape's arms and carried out into the sunlight.
"Put me down!" he demanded, but nobody was listening.
"On three then. Potter, try not to move. One. Two. Three."
Harry felt as if someone had dumped ice cold water on him and repetitively stabbed every nerve with icicles. A moment later he felt disoriented as he focused once again on colours.
A 'pop' came from next to them and Harry saw Zacharias Harper appear in the shape of a blurry brown fuzzy rectangle. "Once again, Potter, on the count of three. One. Two. Three." Harry ended up having to go through the process twice more before Snape started walking swiftly through an empty street. At one point in time Harry must've fallen asleep because the next time he became conscious was to the sound of his professor's voice griping about having a sleeping and most likely drooling brat in his arms. Only when Harry squinted his eyes and recognized headquarters did he realize that it was Snape's way of waking him up before they actually went inside.
Creepy git.
Harper went in and held the door open for an irate Snape, who quickly relinquished his hold on Potter to a dusty grey couch in one of many rooms that resided near the entrance.
With his head against the arm rest Harry felt rather than heard his professor cancel the spells on him and leave the room. He quickly lost consciousness after that.
Next: Chapter 6 –This Devil's Game
"It would be considerable." A miniscule pause,"But worth it." Severus' eyes glinted as he said it, his curtain of hair framing his face in the dim candle light.
"Worth what?" Albus asked calmly, watching from behind his half-moon spectacles.
Severus' face morphed and grew colder. "You know what." Albus sighed and rooted around in his robes for a sweet. Popping a sherbet lemon in his mouth he sighed again, hoping it might somehow change the entire situation.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything to do with him belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bro. and probably a lot more people than I am aware of. I am not making any profit from this; it is purely for my own amusement.
Special thanks to my talented and overall spiffing beta reader, Lilpadfoot17!
Reviewers: Suzuki-chan, SaphirePhoenix, Lil Padfoot17, glassdragon2
Thanks to the people of Potions and Snitches and good harry stories for adding the fic to their C2 archives.