'Why do people feel compelled to run off on their own to die? What animalistic instinct takes over as death sets in and logic fails, driving us to the point where salvation is unlikely due to the mere fact that there is no assistance available? The choking victim in the busy restaurant on Diagon Alley retires to the washroom to die alone; the person in extreme pain retires to their lonely bedroom to die agonizing in the darkness. Not only was Potter driven to kill himself, but also he was determined not to fail – trying to guarantee his success by crawling under a tree in a deserted park.'
'To crawl away and die in peace. No painful bright lights, no insensitive medical professionals speaking loudly, or poking him with sharps, or asking annoying questions that he didn't care to answer. No harassment, no interruptions. How miserable was his existence with the Muggles that he no longer cared? He clearly was depressed and driven to the point of self-destruction, and he certainly didn't want their assistance… Was he abused at their hands? Was the boy starving himself? Were they physically harming him? Or was he simply so self-involved and self-obsessed that he didn't care about the impact his actions would have on others in his life?'
'He was certainly in poor physical condition, and clearly not giving a damn about anything. Or was it the death of the rogue, Sirius Black, and the knowledge that he, Harry James Potter, was directly responsible for the death of the man. Was he so haunted by the blood on his hands that it drove him to the brink of sanity? Now there was no doubt that Sirius deserved to die for various crimes committed along the way.'
'Although I am aware of the existence of Pettigrew, aka Wormtail the sycophant, Black had many unatoned crimes on his conscience when he fell through the veil. He deserved all he got and more, the bastard! However, young Potter would be unawares of all of this; he would assume that Black was falsely accused for all his crimes, and died an innocent man.'
'Misled Potter. So naïve, so sheltered, so deluded, so distraught. How naïve, deluded and unawares have we all been to not notice the signs over the last 5 years he has attended our school? What HAS Minerva been doing, blatantly ignoring the horrid shape the boy has arrived in each year? James wasn't small, neither was delightful Lilly – why would their son be such a weakling then? Small, thin, weak, under nourishment is a clear cause of such things. Have the Muggles been starving him all these years? All of our diagnostic charms, a fully accredited Medi-Witch, and the only Potions Master in all of Great Britain on staff who allowed his petty past grudges to interfere with a child's health? Had Albus Dumbledore, who is supposedly the most powerful and omniscient Wizard of the last century, gladly handed this boy off to his torturers?'
A dark flush covered the Potions Master's normally grey façade as the impact of their negligence began to inflame his psyche. 'Unbelievable. UnBeFuckingLeivable. And I am the one to tell the Headmaster. I need a drink. Or two. Or a bottle. Or two. And a shower. And a night of uninterrupted sleep. Too much thought for one very early morning of apparition and a walk through the dewy grass to Hogwarts' main entrance. I simply cannot be bothered to deal with the wards of the various teachers' entrances strewn throughout the castle.' Too soon he scaled the steps, passed through the heavy wooden doors and the various staircases to the Headmaster's office entrance. A particularly surly Gargoyle greeted him with a lewd gesture at the password quickly muttered (Fizzing Whizzbees) and Severus returned the sentiment. 'Since when does bloody enchanted marble have the right to affront Severus Snape? Since never!' Severus inner monologue was interrupted with the appearance of the infamous stairs to the Headmasters office.
Scaling the rotating steps two at a time, his patience worn through, Severus arrived at the second entrance to Albus' office, taking a moment to allow both his respiration and heart rate to return to normal, and setting his features into a calm façade. Steeling himself for the misery of the next hour, he took one more long slow breath and then raised his hand to knock. Unfortunate luck for Severus, Albus was indeed in the castle, and the door silently opened permitting him into the chambers. Sitting quietly at his desk, as if expecting Severus all along. Severus took the seat Albus gestured at; resisting the urge to pace a hole through the lovely Persian imported carpet.
"As much as I always appreciate your company, it seems a bit late perhaps for a chat, Severus." The headmaster commented as he summoned a steaming hot silver tea service to his desk, the platter spinning lazily offering sugar, cream, biscuits and the like. "Perhaps you are being plagued by insomnia once again? I know a variety of interesting remedies you could try to alleviate it."
Well aware of the lateness of hour and the fact that he was indeed disrupting the few precious hours of sleep that Albus got each night, Severus chose to bite back his various remarks regarding Potions Masters being well versed in the art of sleep tonics. Instead he took a deep breath, feigned gratitude at the Headmaster's thoughtfulness and accepted a cup of black tea.
"I apologise for the inappropriate timing, however I felt that you should know of this matter as soon as I was able to give you a clear prognosis on the situation. Headmaster I received an urgent owl just over 24 hours ago by none other than Harry Potter's Hedwig. There was no letter or note attached, and the bird was in poor condition. All signs pointed to the boy being in danger, and the bird was in a significant state of panic. I decided to act upon it myself under the assumption that perhaps it was some kind of a crude joke, or worse a lure from He Who Must Not Be Named to try and set up a trap for you."
The sleep suddenly left Dumbledore's eyes, as did any remaining guise of humour. "And?"
"Potter was in distress."
"Typical Teenage behaviour, Severus."
"Emotional and physical distress, headmaster. He is currently recuperating at my family's manor, Sir."
"This is shocking news," the Headmaster began. " Is he safe now? Is his health stable?"
"Yes sir, if he wasn't in a safe state, I wouldn't have left him alone with our house elves. I can explain to you what I know Sir." Severus offered.
"No, I would prefer to hear this from Harry. Only he knows the entire story, only he can offer an explanation. As soon as he is ready Severus, bring him to me."
Stunned at this abrupt and sudden dismissal, Severus simply nodded and left the office, preferring to disapperate from beyond the grounds rather than deal with the dirty and disorienting and slightly unreliable Floo network for transportation. It was a relief to know that he would not be the one to completely destroy Albus.
It was three full days before Harry was in condition to safely travel with fear of a relapse. He had become silent, avoiding Severus' divining gaze at all costs, quietly, submissively thanking Severus for every move and action he made. It was unnerving to say the least. Where was the snotty, arrogant, brave and bold young Gryffindor shithead that they were all accustomed to? On more than one occasion Severus had entered the room to find Harry singing some incomprehensible lyrics to himself. Or perhaps a garbled incantation? It made him uncomfortable; the boy didn't acknowledge his presence, and would continue to stare at the ceiling until he would start, blink and then thank Severus for being there. Initially the boy had been combative coming out of the coma. He had choice words for Severus, and was greatly unimpressed by the fact that he still existed in the mortal realm. That had ended halfway through the first day of consciousness, and Severus had felt that it was partly delusional behaviour to begin with. Now Potter was simply creepy. The one time Severus had been able to catch emerald eyes in his; there had been nothing there. Empty, hollow and devoid of any thoughts or emotion. Severus felt a wave of ice sweep through him at this. Perhaps the boy's mind was gone. Perhaps he had not done enough to save him after all. Most chilling of all was when he conceded without a word or argument when told that he would be going to HogWarts to explain his actions to the Headmaster.
The intensity was deafening. Harry sat slouched deep in the chair, as if trying to meld himself as one with the battered red leather. The Headmasters gaze fell upon him, and although he avoided eye contact the boy finally looked up at them both and spoke.
"You couldn't accept it." The tone was accusatory, the anger behind the words lost in defeat. Harry slumped back into the wing-backed chair, translucent skin with a shock of black tufted hair lost under a sea of bandages.
Both Severus and Albus sat silent, stunned. There were many things that they had expected the Boy-Who-Lived to say, and this wasn't on their respective lists. For a brief moment Severus stopped glowering, and swallowed as he placed his cup onto the saucer with a ridiculously loud "clink" of china. The old Headmaster looked, of all the crazy things, confused as his cup floated in mid-air directly in front of him, waiting to be drunk. The young wizard appeared to take courage from this, ran a heavily bandaged hand through his already dishevelled hair and spoke again.
"You just couldn't." His overwhelming green eyes locked onto Albus' now empty blue ones. "You couldn't accept my weaknesses. You ensured you were blind to them. What we don't know cannot harm us, hey Headmaster? I failed miserably to meet your expectations. My reputation preceded me apparently, and set us all us for a losing game. I am weak. The Muggles won. Some Wizard."
Suddenly his eyes turned to Severus, and held him. Onyx eyes mesmerized by Emerald, for once being read rather than reading the other party. Harry's demeanour grew darker, angrier, more injured than before. "And you. You just couldn't accept my strengths. It was never enough. You were hell bent and determined to drive me down as far and as hard as you could. I feel to pieces in front of you, and you were too busy gloating to recognise what was happening until…" His breath hitched, and he appeared wracked by a paroxysm of physical and emotional pain. "Until it was so far gone. So far that you had no choice. And then you made a choice that I hated. And I do hate you for it, as you have hated me for my name all these years without justification. It is a mutual affection, the only one we will ever share I am sure, Professor Snape. I wish you had left well enough alone, and let me die the death I chose. I cannot live up to the fairy tales of the Wizarding World. I learned the hard way over the last 14 years in the Muggle world that fairy tales are nothing but a crock of crap, stories weaved to simply string those ridiculous enough to believe it another day. Death is preferable to this existence."
Albus' pallor changed for the worse once again, pain etching his features. Running a hand over his face, he could say only "Oh, Harry." Severus felt that he was going to be ill as Harry began his chanting again. In the silence of the office, the words were discernable for the first time.
"Step by step, heart by heart, left right left, we all fall down…."
"What nonsense is this now Potter? We are trying to have a conversation here to help you." Severus interrupted, and Albus raised a hand to stop him, but it didn't matter. Whatever Harry was spouting about, he didn't even appear to be aware of the room they were in.
"Bit by bit, torn apart, never quit, the battle rages on…"
"Potter! Really, this is quite enough of this nonsense!" Severus sharp and slightly panicked voice was quickly cut off by the Headmaster's level tone.
"He can't hear you Severus, wherever he has gone to, he's not mentally with us right now. Interrupting him might not even be safe at this point. He is elsewhere."
"Disassociating? He's been doing it all bloody week. He was so muddled and disoriented initially that it sounded like a botched incantation."
"Severus, I should have realised you would understand this. There are many issues to deal with in your house that are intrinsically Slytherin as a generalization; this is one of them." Albus feigned a ghost of a smile which was not returned.
"Abuse is not restricted to the Slytherin's alone, just more prevalent in my house. Lupin had alluded to this with Harry before, and I was too angry at James to recognise what was happening to his orphaned son." Severus sent a guilty look over at the boy who was still muttered under his breath, and had begun to rock softly in the chair. Severus watched at the boy motioned at his bandages. Brief motions, slashing motions, angry pained repetitive motions. Again the urge to be violently ill, to purge the sea of negativity and guilt out of his system nearly overwhelmed him.
"We all fall down… Like toy soldiers... " Harry's head suddenly snapped up, his eyes once again locking with Severus, tears wetting his gaunt cheekbones " How can I be their saviour when I can't even help myself?"