Chapter Twelve - I Love You
Trigger Warnings: Talk about Suicide, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Negative Thoughts, Low Self-Esteem…
Harry was plagued by nightmares all night. Nightmares of him as a little kid, standing in front of that mirror, with his image distorted. He was yelling freak over and over, and he didn't know why. He wanted to stop, but Aunt Petunia's reflection was standing behind him. Her glaring eyes told him that if he stopped, a worse punishment would follow.
The mirror suddenly changed.
Harry was handing Aunt Petunia a drawing he'd made at school. It was of Privet Drive with stick figures of Harry and the Dursleys. My house was written in blue crayon. Harry could feel his pride in that drawing. He had worked so hard on it at school. He really wanted Aunt Petunia to like it and hang it over her fridge, just like she did with Dudley's artwork. She took the drawing and blanched at it in disgust, then ripped it up, causing Harry to cry.
You're not a part of this family, she shouted. You're a freak! You don't belong here!
And then Harry was locked in his cupboard, in the dark, and alone. Counting the spiders on the ceiling, listening to the creaks of the house settling in for the night. Then suddenly, he heard the sounds of his uncle returning home. Fear took over Harry as he hid himself under his thin and ragged blanket.
Maybe, the monster wouldn't find him under here…. Aunt Petunia…help…don't let the monster get me! he whispered, but she was upstairs asleep and unaware of the terror Harry was feeling; the danger he was in.
The door of his cupboard slammed open. And in the darkness, Harry peeked out from his blanket, and could see the large figure in the shadows, could smell the alcohol wafting from its breath, and the glowing red eyes. Harry backed away by that reaching, large hand, but he couldn't scoot back far enough. The hand grabbed him by his arm and yanked. A loud popping noise, followed by Harry's agonizing scream, caused the monster to drop him onto the floor.
The pain was intense, it took Harry's breath away. He tried to move, but he was frozen. And somehow through the fear and pain, Harry knew these memories were only dreams, and he willed himself to wake up. He tried to scream for help, for Severus or Remus to come wake him. Harry tried to move his limbs, screaming at the top of his lungs, in hope that his body gave any sign that he was trapped in his nightmares.
Then suddenly, Harry opened his eyes. He was covered in a cold sweat and his shoulder was throbbing. The fear he felt, caused by his nightmares was strong, making his heart beat fast against his chest.
Taking deep breaths to prevent a panic attack, Harry looked out the bedroom window and he saw the rising sun. It was just a dream, he was safe and far away from the Dursleys. It was just a dream, he repeated to himself over and over, trying to calm down, trying to stop shaking.
And he knew with a heavy heart that the only thing that could possibly help him, was to cut. He wanted to cut, but this time he felt strong. Harry refused to give in to the longing, and so he had to distract himself. He got out of bed, quickly used the restroom and brushed his teeth; the whole time avoiding his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
The cabin was cold and silent as Harry walked into the living room, finding the sleeping forms of Remus; who was covered in a pile of blankets, and Severus, on the sofas. The sight of them calmed Harry down a bit, for they gave him more reason to stay strong.
Harry remembered how he'd felt after his relapse, the self-hatred he had for himself, for being so weak, giving into his negative thoughts and emotions by cutting himself. It made Harry sick to the stomach thinking how messed up he was that night. And he knew, if he gave into his longing to feel that satisfying pain right now, Harry would feel those emotions ten times stronger when he was done.
And that made him realize, cutting himself up wasn't going to take away his fear caused by the nightmares. It was only a temporary fix that would only leave Harry feeling worse than before. And seeing his two dads sleeping in the cabin they've brought him to, to help him, to show him how much they loved him, reminded Harry that he wasn't alone. He was strong, and he could get through his momentary fear and pain, without having to cut.
Not wanting to wake them, Harry silently picked up one of the many blankets on top of Remus, and made his way outside to the porch. Harry made himself comfy on the swinging bench, the blanket smelling faintly of Remus provided him with warmth against the morning chill.
As Harry stared out into the frozen lake, and the snowy woods around it, his thoughts landed on Remus, and what he had told Harry the other night. About his own depression, the demons he'd been battling with inside of him. His confession had showed Harry how much he and Remus had in common, how much Remus cared enough for Harry to tell him something that must've been so hard and painful.
They had almost the same pain, and Remus understood Harry's. That had knocked fractures into Harry's brick wall, allowing him to trust Remus like he would a parent. Harry had started to see Remus as another dad. That realization caused Harry to suddenly feel safe enough to tell him about his darkest morning during the summer, when he'd almost jumped into that waterfall.
Harry couldn't believe the state he was in all those months ago, ready to just kill himself and end it all. He could still remember the feelings of hopelessness and darkness weighing him down. Harry had let the weight of the prophecy, his grief for Sirius, and for Remus who was missing at the time, had let the pain he carried deep inside caused by the Dursleys, succumb him deeper into the darkness, but not this time. Harry was tired of feeling that way. He wanted to get better, to be happy, to be stronger. He wanted to live and to do that, he had to stop giving in to his fear and pain, into the addiction of cutting himself.
And Harry realized as he watched the sun climb higher into the sky, that despite of the prophecy hanging over him, there was still hope that he could defeat Voldemort, and when he did, Harry was going to live, and enjoy it…
So no more cutting… Harry thought to himself, then began to make a list of things he wanted to do. They seemed impossible at the moment, but he'll give it his all to try. He wasn't going to let the Dursleys win. Harry was going to be strong. He owed that much to Severus and Remus for taking care of him during his worst moments. No more feeling sorry for yourself…give Ginny a chance…stop believing you're a freak…trust Severus and Remus, let them in….stop lying to your friends…stop hiding behind the wall, open up more…
Suddenly the door opened and out stepped Severus, wearing a dark-grey bathrobe over his pajamas with the Slytherin crest on the front corner. He held his wand up, levitating two steaming mugs and a stack of toast on a plate.
"Can I join you out here, son?"
Harry nodded, switching his gaze out onto the frozen lake. The sight of his dad, joining him out here with tea and breakfast…made Harry feel loved… It was such a strange thing to experience, even after all these months of being officially adopted to the professor. Small gestures like that, still surprised Harry at times.
"This place is beautiful, secluded, and off the radar. Perfect, if you shall ever need to go into hiding," Severus observed. He handed Harry hot tea and placed the plate of toast between them.
"Do you think the war would get to that point? Where I might need to go into hiding?"
Harry held the mug with both of his hands, bringing back warmth into his fingers. The scent of herbal tea wafting towards him, calmed him down, chasing away the lingering fear from his nightmares.
"I can't tell you where the war will take us, but it's best to be prepared," Severus answered, with his gaze on the rising sun over the frozen lake. "Just remember your safe places, like here or the Forest of Dean. Places no one would think to look for you, and remember what I've taught you during our camping trip, just in case you can't rely on magic."
"I won't forget," Harry said, then after a small pause as he sipped his tea, and Severus helped himself to toast, then Harry said, "You're right about this place, it's peaceful, making it easy to forget the war right now."
"We could all use the break." Severus sipped his coffee. "It's bloody freezing out here. Aren't you cold?"
Harry shrugged, then watched as Severus casted the Bluebell Charm into a nearby dusty lantern. The blue flames provided heat for them, taking away the freezing cold Harry didn't realize he was sitting in, until now.
And Harry realized how lucky he was to have two great father figures in his life right now, especially after everything he'd lost. He wasn't alone anymore, and suddenly he felt ready to finally tell Severus more about his childhood. This time he wasn't going to let himself close up. Harry wanted to tell his dad why he was sitting out here so early in the morning, in the freezing cold.
"Severus…" Harry turned to face his father. He wanted to trust him. He wanted to let him in. He was ready to give Severus a chance. He no longer wanted to push him away.
"Harry?" Severus studied him with his earnest dark eyes, waiting for him to continue.
"I'm out here because… I had nightmares last night… and I…" Harry stopped, taking a deep breath.
Why was this so hard? Harry really wanted to get better. Harry wanted to trust Severus. And he willed himself to continue, remembering his thoughts on wanting to live and be happy, and the list of goals Harry had set for himself.
Stop closing up! You can do this! Harry inwardly berated himself.
"I … I woke up wanting to cut. I came out here to distract myself," Harry finally stuttered out.
Severus' gaze was full of warmth and concern, as he said, "I'm here, Harry, if you want to talk about them."
"I do… but remember our deal? I tell you something and you tell me something," Harry said, his body shaking, and his stomach churning with nerves.
Severus nodded at his words. "Of course, Harry. Whatever makes it easier for you. Do you want to go first or shall I?"
"I'll go," Harry replied, trying to stop his body from shaking. It was so embarrassing for Severus to see him falling apart over some silly nightmares. He probably looked like a pathetic little kid to Severus. He turned his gaze back to Severus, who was frowning at him, as if he knew what Harry was thinking. Forcing himself to stop thinking so low of himself, Harry gathered up the words he wanted to say.
"When I was five, in kindergarten, Aunt Petunia always made it a big deal when Dudley came home with artwork. She'll put them on her fridge as if they were University Degrees. She was always so proud of Dudley. I wanted that. It made me jealous of Dudley.
So one day in school, we had an assignment to draw our family. Instead of drawing my parents and how I thought they would've looked liked, I drew Privet Drive, and the Dursleys. I thought it was my chance to make Aunt Petunia proud. I worked really hard on that drawing, and was super excited to give it to her…"
Harry felt the familiar pain of rejection squeezing his heart. His eyes began to burn and he rubbed them, refusing to cry.
"When I gave her my drawing after school… she hated it. She ripped it up… called me a freak…and told me I wasn't part of her family. I cried really hard…I think I threw a tantrum…." Harry choked out. "I don't really remember, but she ended up sending Uncle Vernon to punish me. It's one of the first beatings I remember that was really bad."
Harry stopped talking, his whole body shaking harder than ever. And he felt himself closing up again, unable to speak, and he hated himself for it. Harry wanted to keep going, but it was so hard. Harry's relatives had conditioned him to never speak up about his feelings. And pain suddenly shot through his shoulder from the old injury. Harry clasped his hand against it in shock. He'd never felt pain there before until now. Harry gasped out from the sharp pain. What was happening to him?
"Harry!" Severus exclaimed at his sudden show of pain. His eyes were wide with shock and horror from the story Harry revealed to him.
"Do you remember the proximity exercise you tried to do with me?" Harry continued, rubbing at his shoulder, massaging out the pain and not letting Severus speak, for he didn't want to lose his courage to speak about his childhood.
When Remus had told Harry about his depression, leading Harry to admit that he'd tried committing suicide, it caused fractures in Harry's brick wall. That brick wall was his mental shield that he'd imagined, keeping all of his pain and childhood memories safely behind it. It was where Harry imagined himself hiding when he felt himself closing up, whenever Severus or anyone tried to talk to him about his feelings or when the Dursleys had hurt him. It was his coping mechanism through the years.
And maybe those fractures in Harry's wall were the reason why he was plagued by nightmares last night, why Harry suddenly wanted to tell Severus about them. Those nightmares were based on painful childhood memories Harry had long ago buried, maybe they had slipped through the cracks...
Remus may have caused the fractures, but Severus had crushed his wall with a sledgehammer, by simply coming out to check on Harry, bringing him tea, and making sure he was warm, listening to him talk... The Dursleys never cared to think of Harry. He remembered the last beating he received from Uncle Vernon, how he laid on that floor, and no one bothered to check on him. They never cared for Harry like parents should've, but Severus did.
And at that realization, Harry's once strong, but now fractured, brick wall was crumbling down, causing everything deep inside him to spill out, making him realize he could truly and deeply trust Severus and Remus as parents. And that is what gave him the strength to not close up, to keep talking….
As Severus nodded at his remembrance of the proximity exercise, tears began to fall down Harry's cheeks, but he wiped them away. He couldn't cry yet. He had to tell his dad about his nightmares, why he woke up wanting to cut, and how he wanted to stop and be happy and have a life, accomplish his goals…and this was the first step of getting there.
"I was so frustrated with that exercise, because it triggered this memory of the nightly punishments I've told you about, and the monster that hid in the shadows… it was how I saw my uncle when I was little." Harry took a deep breath, then said in a shaking voice. "I was four years old….Uncle Vernon, he came home late after work, drunk, and in an angry mood. He grabbed me out of the cupboard by my arm. I was terrified…I was a little kid...and like I've said, I thought he was a monster. I tried to get away from him. He yanked me out so hard…he…"
More tears were coming out. Harry stopped, wiping them away in frustration. He didn't want to cry. And a warm hand suddenly rubbed his back. Harry for once didn't flinch away, he leaned into the touch.
"Go on, Harry, you're doing great," Severus encouraged. He didn't say anymore, just silently waited for Harry to pull himself together.
Once Harry regained control of his breathing, he choked out, "He pulled my arm out of the socket. I still remember the noise it made. I remember the pain, and how loud I screamed. When he realized what he'd done, he dropped me to the floor and left. The next morning, Aunt Petunia popped it back into place, but she didn't talk to me about it. She didn't even ask if I was okay…..and whenever Uncle Vernon stood an arm-length away, he would grab me into a beating, just like that night. That's why I got so triggered with that exercise. I wanted to tell you this during the camping trip, I really did, Severus, but it was so hard…I was so angry with you for pushing me!"
Harry didn't say anymore. His body was shaking so hard, yet he was glad that he hadn't bursted out sobbing.
"Harry, the first thing I want to say is that I was wrong to push you with something that made you uncomfortable. I apologize for ever making you feel that way. And I want you to understand that you didn't deserve to be hurt. None of it was your fault. Your aunt and uncle should've been locked away for the abuse they've put you through!"
Flinching at the word abuse, Harry's gaze went down to the tea he was holding in his hands. The steam wafting off of it was visible in the cold air.
Severus must've seen the flinch, for suddenly he gently pulled the mug out of Harry's shaking hands, placing it on the small side table near his own steaming mug of black coffee and the bluebell jar.
"I really want you to see that those were not punishments. They abused you, Harry."
They've had this lecture so many times already, and Harry knew Severus was speaking the truth. Harry wasn't in denial anymore. Now it was the acceptance of being abused, that was causing him so much pain and turmoil inside.
"I know… I know they did. It was just easier to believe that I deserved the beatings as punishments from something I did. Then simply being beaten because they'd just hated me and didn't care if I was hurting. Severus, I… I … was abused," Harry made himself say, and once the words were out, he felt sort of free. Like an inch of his childhood pain was soothed as he verbally admitted that he was abused, that he was finally talking about it. That feeling gave him the strength to go on talking to his father.
"I was abused, and Aunt Petunia, she let it happen! She didn't care enough to protect me, she was supposed to protect me. What's wrong with me?"
"My son, there is nothing wrong with you," Severus' voice choked, causing Harry to look up, shocked to see his dad's dark eyes bright with unshed tears.
"What those muggles did to you, it was unspeakable. There is nothing wrong with you, nothing you've could've done to prevent them from raising you like that. It was their choice, and not all your fault. You deserved to have your artwork to be hung up on that fridge. You deserved the most loving family. They are the true monsters, the freaks for what they'd done, not you!"
Harry pulled his gaze back towards the frozen lake at Severus' words, feeling a bit self-conscious. He'd never thought of himself as someone who deserved to have a loving family. It always seemed like a privilege, that a freak like him could never have.
"Look at me…" Severus said gently. Harry slowly raised his gaze back to the professor's dark eyes, which were still bright with tears, reflecting the sorrow and pain that was heard in his voice as he spoke. "I know you're thinking that you didn't deserve to have loving parents as a child. I know you're thinking of yourself as a freak, that you might've deserved to be abused. Don't let them win by believing those lies, that you don't deserve anything but hate and pain. You deserve much more than that."
"Dad…" Harry could only say, his voice raw with pain.
"Harry, I love you very much. Nothing makes me happier than having you as my son. The Dursleys missed out on knowing you, that is the real punishment for their crimes. It's what prevents me from going right now to Privet Drive to punch the living daylights out of your uncle for what he's done to you. It breaks my heart to learn the pain he'd put you through, the emotional neglect your aunt did to you. They will never know the kind-hearted kid you are now, and the strong, young man you're growing into. They are missing out on having you as their son, and I feel sorry for them."
"Severus, I …."
I love you, too... Harry desperately wanted to say, but those simple words, full of meaning, were trapped inside him. And so he could only say, "I'm sorry, it seems like I don't appreciate you…it's just hard….like, I don't even call you dad as often as I should. I'm not used to having someone care for me like a son… but I want to get better, I want to be strong, and stop cutting. I want to enjoy my life, I'm ready to fight for it, dad."
Why is it so hard for me to say I love you back? Harry silently thought.
It wasn't as if he hadn't said it before. Harry had managed to say it once during the summer, after Severus depleted his magical core to pull Remus out of his wolf state of mind. Harry remembered the fear at the thought of losing Severus, especially because during that time, he was just starting to feel safe with him, accepting him as his guardian. And Harry realized, he didn't want to feel that again, the fear of losing Severus without ever telling him how much he loved him.
And Harry mentally added, tell Severus I love him, to his list.
"Hey, there's no need to apologize. Take all the time you need, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Tears finally escaped Severus' eyes, and he pulled Harry into a tight hug. "Just remember that, kid, I love you, no matter what happens…"
"Dad…" Harry said, as he hugged Severus back. He was shocked to see Severus cry, and Harry tried to say it again, in hopes to make his dad feel better… I love you, too…but it was another chance Harry couldn't take.
And Harry wondered what Severus was thinking to make him break, to finally let himself cry in front of Harry. And he suddenly thought over of what Severus had just said…no matter what happens… Did this have something to do with that strange look in the professor's eyes, that Harry would often see?
"You know something about the war," Harry blurted out.
At those words, Severus pulled out of the hug, staring directly into Harry's eyes. The pain in his dark eyes was strong. And Harry knew his suspicions of Severus bearing a secret was confirmed.
"One day, you will understand. Just please remember what I've said to you, remember this moment. Trust me."
And without a heartbeat, Harry replied, "I trust you."
He knew Severus had his reasons of why he couldn't tell him. It was because of the war, most likely on Dumbledore's orders. And just Severus admitting there was something he was hiding, yet couldn't reveal it to him, was all Harry needed. This time, no fighting, no arguments, he was just going to accept the fact that Severus had secrets. He was just going to trust him.
"The nightmares you had, were they about these memories you've told me?"
Severus asked, as he handed Harry back his tea.
Harry drank the warm tea, soothing the nerves in his stomach, just enough to pick up a piece of toast and nibble on it. It had been awhile since he'd properly eaten. He didn't notice the small smile flash across his dad's face at the sight of him eating.
"Whenever you're ready you may continue," Severus said, drinking his own coffee and helping himself to another piece of toast.
Once they've both eaten, and finished their warm drinks, did Harry began to describe the nightmares centered around those memories. How he was paralyzed in his nightmares, screaming for help. Until Harry awoke in the early dawn hours in fear and triggered to cut. How he couldn't look in the mirror at his own reflection, afraid to see the freak that Aunt Petunia shouted at him in his dreams. When Harry mentioned the pain in his shoulder, Severus stopped him.
"You woke up and it was hurting?"
Harry nodded.
"How often does that happen?"
"This is the first time its happened… when I dreamed about it."
"The pain can just be psychological. Do you mind if Madam Pomfrey does a scan on you later? To see if there was any damage, just in case."
"No, I don't mind," Harry shrugged.
"You've mentioned the mirror a few times in your nightmares, can we talk about that?"
Harry only shrugged, thinking how he could barely look at his reflection the past few days, ever since his relapse. His self-esteem had plummeted down again to how it was during the past summer. His Aunt Petunia's words Freak whispering in his mind every time he caught his reflection.
"I know you're going to say I'm not a freak. It's just sometimes, it's hard to believe you… and sometimes I can. This past weekend I could barely look at myself. I think my relapse affected my self-esteem. I think that's why I dreamed of the bathroom mirror last night."
"I think so too…" Severus said. "Can you close your eyes for me? I want you to remember when I conjured up the mirror for you, during our camping trip. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
Harry remembered that day. It was the morning when he failed to jump, Severus had found him. They were walking back to camp when he stopped their walk to conjure up the mirror, making Harry see his reflection. Making him find the lost child Harry used to be before Aunt Petunia forced him to believe that he was a freak.
Harry closed his eyes, focusing on that memory. Remembering his reflection that day.
"Yes, I remember."
"Do you mind if I conjure the mirror up again? I simply want to remind you who you are, son, the person Remus and I see, not the freak Petunia Dursley has made you believe."
"I'm okay with it," Harry said, a bit uncertain.
"Speculo!" Severus said. "You may open your eyes now."
Harry slowly opened his eyes, and was met by his reflection. And to him, it looked distorted. He looked like a freak, a weak kid who couldn't handle his depression and resorted to cutting himself. He hated what he saw, and he desperately tried to cling onto the positive thoughts of wanting to stop cutting, of having a life and the things he wanted to do, but it was hard with being faced with his distorted reflection, reminding him how he'd lost control that evening.
"Severus…" Harry's voice shook.
"I'm here, son. Now tell me, what do you see?"
Harry suddenly remembered himself as that little kid, long ago, before the mirror. When he was younger, he used to fight against Aunt Petunia's disdain for him. He used to try ways to get her to love him. Like drawing her pictures, following her around and helping her with chores. He'd always tried to see the good in his aunt, no matter how much she hated him. Then one morning, after Harry's first real sign of accidental magic, she forced him to stand in front of the mirror, forcing him to call himself a freak. Harry flinched at the memory, seeing what Aunt Petunia saw, a reflection of the freak he was.
"I see myself as a freak, just like she said. A weak and pathetic kid who cuts himself. Messy hair and green eyes, too skinny, and with scars on his arms. I can't…" Harry choked out.
"Harry, looker deeper. Do you know what I see?"
Harry shook his head.
"I don't see a freak. I only see you. Find yourself, son."
And just like the first time when Severus made Harry look at his reflection in the mirror, Harry examined his reflection even closer, trying to find that lost child that he had once gotten a glimpse of. The small boy that still fought against his aunt's mental abuse, the one that still tried to see the good in her. It was hard, for what Aunt Petunia did to him that day, was worse than any beating Uncle Vernon had ever given him. And anger began to rise in him, making his stomach queasy.
"Severus, I can't find …. I… I …" Harry didn't know what to say.
He wanted to say that he couldn't find himself, that he couldn't find the boy he once was, but he sounded crazy! Harry felt like he was going mad with these thoughts in his head, and it was all her fault!
"I hate her for doing this to me!" Harry snapped out. "I hate her for forcing me into believing I'm a freak! I'm not a freak! I'm not, I'm not bad! I just wanted her to love me!"
And the sudden anger turned into hurt, into the rejection that Harry refused to let himself feel for so long. It came out of his crumbled down brick wall, raw and powerful. Harry feeling the strong emotions, bursted into tears, letting out a strangled sob. He finally let himself cry.
Severus pulled Harry close against him. Wrapping him into a tight hug, his dad whispered words of comfort to him, until the pain began to cease, and he felt numb with grief for what Petunia had done to him.
And when Harry finally looked back at the mirror, still floating in front of them, Harry realized his reflection no longer looked distorted. He was finally seeing the lost child he once was, the one who used to believe in the good in everyone, who saw the good in his aunt, no matter how horribly she treated him.
"I see me," Harry whispered, causing Severus to hug him tighter for a brief moment, before waving the mirror away.
"I see you too," Severus whispered back, then said in a louder voice, "I'm so proud of you, Harry, thank you for finally trusting me enough to talk to me. And forgive me for conjuring up that mirror, and forcing your reflection on you. I just wanted you to express the emotions you've been holding inside, from all the pain you've endured from your relatives. It's the only way to take care of these nightmares. They are the result of you closing yourself up. And whenever you have more nightmares, Remus and I will always be around to help you through them."
Harry nodded. "You're right… I don't even feel like cutting anymore."
And those words were true, for Harry had finally stopped shaking. His stomach feeling tight from nerves and hunger was finally feeling better, and full from the tea and toast. He was so glad he didn't cut himself up. He was glad he talked to Severus…this feeling was so much better than the relief of a blade…
Then Harry gave Severus an expectant look. "It's your turn now."
"You're right," Severus replied, thinking for a few moments, then began to tell his story.
"My dad was a muggle, and my mom, she hid the magical side of her until after I was born, after I experienced my first signs of early magic. She waited so long, because she was afraid he'll leave her," Severus began.
"When I was seven, I wanted my dad to play with me, but he was busy. He was reading, and he told me to be patient, to wait until he was done. I got angry and my accidental magic caused his book to fly across the room. It freaked my dad out. He was shocked, afraid, and he grabbed me by the arm and locked me in the bathroom. I cried for him to let me out." Severus stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing.
Harry could see how tensed Severus was, that it was hard for him to talk about his childhood, just like how it was hard for Harry to talk about his nightmares.
"I wasn't let out until my mom came home that night. My dad had drank the whole afternoon. He was drunk by the time she'd come home. They were fighting when she slammed open the door, hugged me, and made me go to my room. I could hear their argument through the walls. That was the first night he'd hit her."
Severus stopped, his eyes glazed over as he was lost in the memory.
"He was never the same after that. The dad I knew, was gone since that terrible day."
Severus suddenly looked at Harry, his dark eyes full of grief and hurt.
"I used to blame myself, Harry, just like how you blamed yourself for being bad and believing you were receiving punishments rather than being abused. Do you see the similarities?"
Harry only nodded.
And Severus continued. "For the longest time, I had blamed myself for my dad becoming an alcoholic, abusive and angry towards my mom and I. I used to think if I'd controlled my emotions a bit better that day, if I'd only done what he said, then that wouldn't have happened. Overtime, I grew to learn that it wasn't my fault at all. It was his own choices that had caused my father to lose himself, not me. He could've handled the truth better, but he chose to drink away his life. Just like it isn't your fault that the Dursleys hated you for simply being magical. It was their choices on how they had handled you."
"Harry, this is me saying to you that I understand the impact the Dursleys' blame and hatred had on you as you grew up."
Harry found his gaze locked onto Severus' dark eyes as the professor spoke, and for the first time, Harry was able to maintain eye contact for a good while without feeling uncomfortable.
"I understand the childhood pain, the rejection and longing to be loved by those who were supposed to care for you. I understand, just like how Remus said he understood your depression. And I'm so proud that you told him about your attempted suicide. You don't know how amazing you are, son, by having the courage to talk about one of your darkest moments. I just wish you can see that."
Taking in the words his dad was saying to him, Harry indeed felt seen and understood. He felt loved. It was everything that he had craved for as a kid. He finally found it in Severus, and in Remus as well. And that moment was what made Harry hold on tightly to his resolutions, to try his very best to not cut anymore, to try and see himself better; as not a freak. He wanted to be strong, ready, to fight Voldemort so he could live a happy life with his two dad's.
And Harry was going to say those three words…I love you… when a gentle knock on the door interrupted their conversation. And Harry lost his brief courage.
Remus stepped out onto the porch, wrapped in a blanket, his greying golden hair a mess.
"So, this is where you two are hiding. It's freezing out here."
Harry quickly turned to see Severus' face expression softened at the sight of the sleepy werewolf. He didn't miss the way his dad's eyes lingered on Remus for a moment, before shyly looking away. It caused Harry to smile.
"Why don't we warm up inside, Harry?" Severus suggested, his dark eyes warm with affection, gazed down at him.
And seeing that, made Harry feel very happy, happier than he'd felt in a long time.
And he wanted to say those three words again, to both of the men on that porch with him, but instead…
"Yeah, can we have a movie day before we go back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked, mentally berating himself for being too afraid to say it.
What is wrong with me?
"Cub, you were just reading my mind. Have you seen Back to the Future?" Remus asked.
"Only parts of it. I wasn't really allowed to hang out with Dudley and his friends when they watched it."
"I don't watch muggle pictures," Severus frowned.
"Oh, Severus," Remus sighed. "I can't be friends with you if you've never seen Back to the Future." Causing Severus to scowl out loud in annoyance, and Harry to laugh.
After spending nearly the whole day watching three muggle movies called Back to the Future, which Severus found a bit entertaining, yet couldn't help rolling this eyes at the obsession Harry and Remus seemed to share for them, they were back at Hogwarts.
He was in the kitchen, making dinner for Harry who was catching up on his weekend homework in his room, and for Remus who was sitting at the kitchen table, softly playing his guitar and stopping every few moments to write something down. Severus had invited Remus to stay, before returning to his own quarters. It was nice having the werewolf constantly around, and Severus wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet.
As Severus cooked, he thought again about Remus' and Harry's enthusiasm with the muggle movies, that he couldn't share. Perhaps, because it was a bit hard for Severus to understand, which he'll never admit to them. Watching the muggle movies, made Severus realize that he was growing out of touch with the muggle world and their technology.
Severus then lost himself in thoughts of Harry and the emotional and long conversation they had shared that morning. When Severus awoke, he spotted Harry sitting outside on the porch swing through the window, lost in thought. At first, Severus was afraid Harry might've hurt himself again, but was then surprised at how determined he was to tell Severus why he was out there, and the progress his son had suddenly made. It seemed like the weekend getaway was exactly what Harry needed. Severus also felt like Harry's relapse had sort of snapped him out of it, preventing him from succumbing deeper into his depression and giving him the strength to hold on, and the will to try to stop his self-harm.
Severus turned to take something out of the icebox, and found himself staring at the bare closed door. With Harry in mind and the stories of his childhood he revealed, suddenly Severus had an idea. He lowered the flames of the stove and turned to Remus.
"Can you watch this for a minute? I have to get something."
Remus nodded. Severus watched as the wolf put down his guitar, standing up and making his way to the stove, before heading quickly to his bedroom.
Severus riffled quickly through his research notes and books, looking for the drawings, until he found them wedged in one of his research books on child abuse.
Severus studied the pictures. He hadn't looked at them in months. Harry didn't even know they were in his possession. One of them was a drawing of a small Harry holding hands between Lily and James Potter. The word my family was scribbled in blue crayon. The clouds and sun symbolized that the stick figures were all spirits.
When Severus had first laid eyes on this drawing months ago, he had felt like it was a sign of suicide or childhood depression. He still felt that way, studying the drawing a second time. A child to draw himself with his dead parents in the sky, wasn't a normal thing for a child to draw.
Severus frowned, flipping the picture underneath the next one.
The second drawing in his possession was just as dark. Severus observed it carefully. It was of a young Harry sleeping in his cupboard, dreaming of green light. Black crayon resembled the dark hallway filled with monsters that resembled Vernon Dursley.
The monster in the shadows…
Severus had forgotten how dark he thought this drawing was. How the signs of abuse were clearly drawn into it. Now knowing more about Harry's past and the nightly punishments, Severus felt like he understood even more about the pain a young Harry must've been in as he drew this.
Did you draw this before or after it happened?
And with his gaze still on the drawing, Severus remembered the story Harry told him, about his arm being pulled out of the socket, and for a moment he could hear the young Harry's screams in his head. Severus felt tears well up from behind his eyes.
Severus sighed, these drawings wouldn't do. He didn't want to trigger Harry every time he wanted to get something out of the ice box. He put the drawings back inside the book. He'll have to pay a quick visit to the Dursleys.
Severus made his way back to the kitchen.
"Remus, can you take over the cooking and watch Harry for me? Just for an hour at the most. There's something I need to do."
"Certainly, Severus, this will be ready by the time you return."
Severus didn't waste another minute. He left his quarters and walked quickly out of the castle with his black robes billowing behind him to the apparition point. He hoped this sudden journey to Privet Drive wasn't for nothing, and he was successful in his search for more of Harry's old childhood artwork.
Within seconds, Severus appeared right in front of Privet Drive with a loud pop, causing the alarms of the muggle vehicles to go off. Severus waved his wand, silencing the blaring noise. He quickly tapped roughly against the door of the Dursley's home, but all the lights were off and there was no answer. It looked like no one was home on an early sunday night; Severus couldn't believe his luck.
"Alohomora," he whispered, then quickly slipped inside and relocked the door.
"Lumos," Severus whispered again, the tip of his wand casting light in the dark hallways as he quickly went to the cupboard.
Severus opened the small door and pulled on the string that lit up a dim and flickering light bulb. He'd forgotten how small this cupboard was. Refusing to imagine a small Harry, laying on the broken cot, afraid, and alone in the dark and cramped space, Severus wasted no time.
He quickly began looking through the shelves that were full of cleaning chemicals, rags and broken toys, until he found a shoebox. He opened it and it revealed old stumpy and broken crayons and a few drawings. Severus stored the box in his robes, glancing around for anything else he might've missed, before deciding to make his departure as quickly as possible.
Severus didn't return to his quarters right away. He sat on the steps of the castle, going through the drawings. They were old, some of Harry's drawing were on bits of old paper. Most of them were as dark as the other two in his possession. Accept for one. It wasn't as old as the others, the paper was still in good condition. The drawing was neater. As if Harry was much older when he drew this. It was quite good actually, Severus never suspected that Harry was good at art.
It was a flying motorcycle over the village with Harry on it.
Why a flying motorcycle? Severus wondered. The boy never showed much interest in muggle transportation. Then Severus remembered how years ago, Hagrid had taken Harry to Privet Drive on Black's old motorcycle. Could this drawing be based on a dream, or a memory? There was no way Harry could've remembered that, he was only a baby. Severus shrunk the shoebox, stuffing it inside his pocket as he made his way back to his quarters, with the peculiar drawing of the motorcycle in his hand.
Moments later, Severus had return, and was sticking the drawing on the door of the ice box. Remus was standing at the stove, stirring food in a pot. Earlier that day, Harry had told Remus about his nightmares, and the conversation he and Severus had shared. So luckily, Severus didn't have to explain the full backstory of what he was doing.
"Is that Harry's artwork as a kid?" Remus asked, stopping what he was doing for a moment to observe the drawing of the motorcycle. "It's quite good for a child's drawing. Is that why you left? To retrieve it?"
Severus nodded as he took over the cooking. "Luck was on the Dursley's side to choose to go out tonight. They weren't home. I went into Harry's cupboard to find out if he had any artwork. I found a box full of them."
"Does this have anything to do with what he'd told you this morning, about what his aunt did to him?"
Severus nodded, and said, "During our talk this morning, I could hear the pain in his voice when Harry told me that story. It's something he really wanted as a child. That conversation we had… it was…I don't know… something broke in him. Harry opened up to me completely. He's had his moments of opening up in the past, then closing back up again, but this time, I think it's different. Harry was able to talk to me, able to look at me, he called me dad a lot. I think I got through to him, I mean we, Remus, I think we got through to Harry. I really think Harry's relapse made him see that he was drowning in his pain, and by me and you being there during his darkest moment, it made him see that he could trust us. And I just wanted to do this for him, grant him this one simple wish he had as a child… I don't know, maybe it's stupid." Severus shrugged, hoping he made sense.
"No, Severus, I think this is a great idea."
Remus' eyes suddenly sparked with mischief. "Let's not tell Harry right away. Let's see if he notices it."
Remus suddenly picked up the pitcher of pumpkin juice from the counter and placed it back into the ice box. "When he comes in, we'll tell him to grab the pumpkin juice."
"Careful, Remus, your marauder side is showing," Severus chuckled. "This is about ready, you did a nice job. I'm curious to try your cooking."
"Don't expect much, I'm no cook," Remus said as he placed dinner dishes on the table, and then started clearing up his muggle notebook and pens.
"What were you writing?" Severus asked him, as he placed a salad bowl on the table.
"Um, a song I've been working on for awhile. I don't have much, just a tune and a chorus." Remus blushed.
"Can I hear it?" Severus asked. "I didn't know you were a songwriter."
"Not really… It's sort of stupid."
"I won't think it's stupid. Everything you do is brilliant, except maybe Potions."
"Yeah, I suck at Potions and maybe cooking."
Their eyes met, and Severus realized that if the universe allowed it, he could stare into those hazel-green depths forever. And he genuinely wanted to know what Remus was working on, for he didn't realize music was so important to Remus. Severus thought the werewolf carried the guitar around because it reminded him of Black. Then he witnessed Remus working hard on his guitar, before Severus took his quick trip to Privet Drive. And he realized….that song he had once heard Remus singing alone in his office…did Remus write that for Black?
Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
Anywhere I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you
And Severus remembered the raw pain and emotions that were heard in Remus' voice that night, the emotions that were triggered in Severus as well. That song was gut-wrenchingly beautiful. And Severus wondered if one day Remus would ever feel as strongly towards him as he once did for Black, enough to write something like that for him.
With each passing day, Severus was falling more and more for this werewolf standing in his kitchen, with his guitar, and messy golden and grey hair, with his mischievous hazel-green eyes that sometimes shown golden. And the fact that he was indeed brilliant in everything he did, perfect, yet complicated and beautiful with flaws that Severus could relate too. Remus Lupin, who had this magic about him, in which Severus always found it natural to be himself around him.
And thinking about the lyrics of that song, Severus understood the pain and grief Remus held inside himself, hindering him from considering giving Severus a chance. Severus understood that Remus wasn't ready to fall in love again, and was trying his best to respect that decision by resigning to the fact that he'll spend the rest of the year pining after the werewolf in miserable silence. And strangely, Severus was okay with that. Especially since there was no use starting anything with Remus, when Albus' task was hanging over Severus' head.
Severus was used to crushing hard on people who couldn't love him back... Story of my life, Severus thought to himself, thinking briefly of Lily and the old feelings he once had for her.
But it was so hard with the presence of Remus being around. It was easy for Severus to forget all of his reasons to be cautious.
Remus sighed in defeat at Severus' gaze. "Okay… just don't laugh."
"I would never."
Remus picked up his guitar, playing the melody Severus had been hearing him work on. It was beautiful, soothing, heartbreaking and hopeful all at the same time.
And then Remus began to sing. Severus hadn't heard his voice in awhile. He had forgotten how beautiful and entrancing it was.
"Fall on me
With open arms
Fall on me
From where you are Fall on me
With all your light With all your light
With all your light…"
And Remus stopped singing, only playing the guitar softly for a few moments. Before gazing into Severus' eyes, waiting for a response.
"That was beautiful, Remus. Is that…?" Severus, unable to finish his sentence, suddenly couldn't breathe. Those lyrics… they sounded familiar.
"They are based on what you've told me when we were sitting in my quarters, and I told you about the dreams I was having of you, that turned out to be memories. Your phrase fall on me just stuck in my mind, and that night, after you know…"
Remus' cheeks blushed, and Severus knew the night he was talking about. It was that first night at the cabin, after Harry went to bed, and Severus and Remus were by the mantle talking, when Severus had slipped up, and accidentally pulled Remus close to him.
"That night I couldn't sleep. And for some reason that phrase was in my head. I kept turning it over and over until I began to write this…" Remus picked up his notebook.
Severus could see Remus was really shy talking about the inspiration of his song writing, and it touched him deeply for Remus to confide in him.
"I'm not much of a song writer, or expect anything to come out of it… it just distracts me sometimes from my depression…"
"Well, that sounded fantastic to me. I'm curious to see how it'll turn out," Severus only managed to say, hating how stupid he was sounding. Why can't I say something more meaningful?
"Thank you, Severus," Remus smiled.
Severus wished he could say more, like how beautiful he thought Remus' voice was, and how those lyrics, just a few simple words spoke to him deep inside. They had so much meaning in them that only Severus and Remus could understand, for they came from one of their deep conversations. Severus was so touched that Remus decided to write a song based on something he'd said.
What does he mean by writing that? Does this mean Remus is thinking about giving me a chance? Is it a sign that he's ready? Do I mean something to him, just as how much he means to me? And remembering how it felt when Severus was pulling Remus close that night, he remembered those eyes on Severus' lips. Did he want to kiss me that night? Should I just kiss him now, and see if he kisses me back?
And Severus, lost in his thoughts, realized that he hadn't said anything in return.
Remus was still waiting, holding his notebook close to his chest, his eyes tinged with gold, and his cheeks blushing from their conversation. Severus' stomach was suddenly feeling as if there were a million butterflies fluttering as fast as his beating heart, causing his legs to go numb. And he didn't know what to say to Remus. He didn't want to say or do something again that would make the werewolf feel uncomfortable.
Like kissing you….
And at the right moment, Harry came out of his room, taking away the sudden and awkward tension between them.
"Hey, kid, dinner is about ready, why don't you get us the pitcher of pumpkin juice in the ice box?" Severus said, pushing away his emotions, putting his mask back on. He couldn't let Harry or Remus see how much he was inwardly shaking at the thought of Remus and his lyrics. At the thought of what might've happened if he had just kissed him.
Remus smiled at Severus, the shyness in his eyes now replaced with mischief.
Harry nodded, opening the ice box door, and grabbing the pitcher of pumpkin juice. The door closed. Severus watched him staring at the picture, waiting to see how he'll react.
"Dad…"
Severus walked silently towards the boy, stopping right behind him, and Harry suddenly turned around and hugged him so tight. And Severus caught off guard for a second, couldn't breathe.
"I love you," Harry whispered, and those words meant the world to Severus as he hugged his son tightly.
Thank you LunePrimus, Imaginer.012 and Guest who left me wonderful comments! They made me super happy! This chapter was for you guys!
Next chapter will be in June!
