Previously in To Have a Home: Severus looked down at his student, watching as pupils rolled behind closed lids. Seconds later, the familiar green irises slowly became visible. The professor couldn't help but lean forward in his chair as Harry slowly blinked, not quite aware of his surroundings.
"Harry?"
Green eyes slowly roamed the room, before finally landing on the two adults. Waiting with baited breath, Severus locked eyes with the boy, attempting to be a lifeline, just as he had done the night before. The potions Professor noticed the cold stare and couldn't help but feel the complete and utter hopelessness that radiated from the Gryffindor. The lack of life within the gaze was a painful reminder for the man, bringing up memories from thirteen years prior that he had tried so hard to suppress; the memory of finding his childhood best friend on the ground, with open eyes that stared without seeing.
It was far from the usual boisterous and foolhardy attitude that usually came from the teen, and It sent a shiver down his spine all the while bringing an entirely new wave of guilt crashing down upon him. The sight before him disturbed him more than he would ever care to admit, though it was the words that left Harry's mouth that would haunt him forever.
"Why couldn't you just let me die…?"
The boy spoke in a hoarse whisper, so soft that Severus had to strain to hear it. Those seven words, coupled with the lack of emotion behind them, caught the Slytherin off guard. He could handle anger, he could handle sadness and tears. Merlin knows how many times he has sat in his office with one of his distressed students. It was the tone of voice that was completely devoid of anything that resembled the boy he thought he knew that would be etched into his memory. He motioned for Poppy to give them some privacy, as he was sure that Harry did not want an audience at the moment. Feeling his throat constrict with emotion, Severus leaned in close, resisting the urge to lay a comforting hand on Harry's arm.
"Harry," He started, intentionally using the boy's first name, "I know things may seem bleak right now, but please… Hear me out. I know what it is like to feel alone, to feel like there is nowhere to turn and that the whole world is against you, but you are very much loved." The potions master whispered.
Severus slowly placed his hand on Harry's arm, and was not surprised to feel the immediate flinch under his touch. It was an all too familiar feeling; one that he himself had felt constantly throughout his childhood. He saw himself at five years old, cowering underneath the kitchen table in order to escape the wrath of his father after exhibiting some accidental magic for the first time. He saw himself at eight years old, stepping in between his father's hand and his mother's face, to try and protect her from yet another blow. He saw himself at eleven, feeling complete and utter relief as he boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time, alongside his best friend Lily Evans, knowing he would have a reprieve from the abuse, even if it was just for a little while.
The death of his mother had hit Severus harder than he let on. He had put up a mask, both physically and emotionally, making sure to hide the amount of pain that he truly felt. His emotions weighed him down like an anchor on a daily basis, constantly threatening to pull him under and drown him in a pit of despair. With his father's alcoholism, it had been him and his mother against the world for as long as he could remember. When she died, Severus felt as if a piece of him died as well. Losing Lily on that fateful night in 1981 tore another piece of his already fractured heart out and destroyed it, and now, Severus didn't know how much of his heart and soul were left.
Bringing himself out of his memories, Severus looked down at his student, the boy who had survived so much for so long, only to beg for the sweet embrace of death by his own hand as his world crumbled around him, leaving him alone in the aftermath. The Gryffindor had been let down too many times by the people he had considered to be family. Snape knew it was only a matter of time before the boy snapped, however, he never imagined that he would be the one to pick up the pieces.
For the past 13 years, Snape had played a passive role in protecting Harry, having made a vow to Lily prior to her demise that he would do everything in his power to keep her child safe, should she fall at the hands of the Dark Lord. The Professor initially felt nothing but sheer hatred for Harry, only seeing him as the son of his childhood bully. However, throughout the years, Harry had unknowingly begun to chip away at the walls that Severus had built around himself as the man slowly started to view Harry as not only James' son, but Lily's as well.
When he received no response from the teen, Severus tried once more to reach out.
"Harry, you have overcome so many obstacles. You mean so much to a lot of people, and although I haven't said so in the past… You mean so much to me."
Severus paused, surprised at his own admission. He had never thought about it before, but yes, the reckless, impulsive Gryffindor before him had changed him. His usually cynical attitude towards the world around him had been changed to a hopeful outlook on life, after having bore witness to the many triumphs of this young boy throughout the years. Granted, many of the situations the young Potter found himself in could have been avoided in the first place, it astounded Severus that with 'sheer dumb luck' - as Minerva had accurately described it as so long ago - the boy had pulled through and saved not only his own life, but the lives of those around him.
"You don't care. No one does. You think you know how I feel but you don't." The boy said in his monotonous tone.
At least he's talking… He thought, seeing this as progress.
"You're right." He paused. "I don't know how you feel. But you are incorrect in the assumption that I do not care about you, Harry. Despite the fact that I have not actively shown it in the past, I truly do care about your wellbeing and safety."
Not even a millisecond after the last three words left his mouth, Harry looked up at his Professor with pure unadulterated anger in his eyes. With fists clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white, the teen was nearly shaking from the fury that had been building up inside him. He threw off the blanket that covered him and stood up on unsteady legs.
"My wellbeing and safety?" He repeated in an incredulous voice. "I asked - no… I begged the headmaster at the end of first year to let me stay at Hogwarts instead of returning to Surrey. He refused, giving me some bullshit excuse about 'blood wards', telling me that the magic of my mother's love best protected me under my Aunt's roof, because in the words of the dear old Headmaster, 'A mother's love is one of the most powerful types of magic there is. The blood connection that you share with your Aunt can protect you from any harm that may come." Harry scoffed.
"Let me ask you something, Professor. How can blood wards protect me from the dangers of the outside world when it can't even protect me from the dangers within the walls of Number Four Privet Drive? There is absolutely no love for me at the Dursleys," He spat out the name, his tone of voice dripping with venom. "Unless you count corporal punishment as a sign of love." He added sarcastically.
"And now, you have the audacity to say that you care about my wellbeing and safety? Dumbledore knew what went on in that house. He knew what kind of person Petunia was. How dare you? After everything that has happened, you think you can claim that you care about me and that everything will be okay? I don't think so. You and Dumbledore can take your blood ward bullshit and go fuck yourselves" Harry shouted.
His voice had grown louder throughout his speech, which had of course attracted the attention of Madame Pomfrey. She rushed into the room and her eyes widened at the scene before her. Severus was standing as still has a statue, obviously trying to remain calm for Harry's sake, though it was clear that he was seething at the new revelations that came to light during Harry's tirade. The head of Slytherin decided to disregard the blatant disrespect and use of expletives, seeing as it would do no good to correct the irate teen. Harry, who was out of bed, despite the medical report stating that he required strict bedrest, gave a sneer that took the Slytherin by surprise.
Suddenly, with his wand and invisibility cloak in hand, having grabbed them from his nearby trunk, Harry fled the Hospital Wing, ignoring the protests of both adults. He watched as Harry slammed the door with such force, it shook the surrounding shelves, and without another word, Severus snapped out of his state of shock and ran after the boy. A fresh wave of panic came over him, as the Boy Who Lived was now roaming the castle while emotionally unstable, and suicidal, his mind supplied. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with a plan in order to keep Harry from endangering either himself or any other occupants of the school.
The next hour and a half for the Potions Master was spent frantically searching the castle for the boy who had put more years on his life than any Death Eater meeting he had attended. After questioning the Fat Lady and checking the Gryffindor Common Room and dorms, Severus leaned against a wall in order to catch his breath. While the man was not old, he was not as young as he used to be. Normally, he would never indulge in a Cat and Mouse chase with a Gryffindor, but the current situation was a matter between life and death. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he remembered something that Minerva had told him before he began teaching at the school. Hogwarts has wards in place that will set off a signal, should one of its occupants be in danger. The alarm will be raised if a student or faculty member is injured or is in mortal danger.
Severus closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. No alarms had been raised. Yet… His subconscious added. He breathed heavily for a moment, hoping that the teen just needed some time alone in a private area to collect his thoughts, and not a place to end it all. Severus knew that it was only a matter of time before the rest of the faculty arrived, as it was August 31st. Unsurprisingly, Severus was not looking forward to the start of term, having once again been denied the Defense Against the Dark Arts position that he had been after for many years. He dreaded his potions lessons with Gryffindor and Slytherin, fully anticipating yet another year where Neville Longbottom would horrendously botch his basic potions and end up in the Hospital Wing once again.
Severus made his way down one of the many long hallways, pausing momentarily to peer into nearby rooms. As he was about to round the corner to continue his search, the sound of a pair of voices made him pause in his tracks. Of the two voices, only one was familiar to Severus, and it belonged to a man he once trusted with his life. With the voices coming closer, he put up a mask to prevent any questions that may have come as a result of his disheveled appearance. Taking a steadying breath, he turned the corner and came face to face with the Headmaster.
"Ah, Severus! It's so good to see you. I trust you are ready for another year at Hogwarts." Albus greeted, the twinkle in his eye as obnoxious as it has always been.
He had so much he wanted to say to the older man. The Potions Master wanted to yell and scream; wanted to make it known just how much damage he had inflicted upon The Boy Who Lived. However, he bit his tongue, as this was not the time nor the place for that conversation. Severus looked behind the Headmaster, and standing in the middle of the hallway was a woman that he did not recognize. Short and stout, with features similar to a toad that Severus would use in his potion making, the woman stared the Slytherin down with her beady eyes.
"Hem Hem," the woman prompted in her sickly sweet, high pitched voice, causing Dumbledore to nod.
"Severus, I'd like you to meet our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Dolores Jane Umbridge."
And at that moment, as if the woman's name was a trigger, the castle's warning signals went off. Harry was in danger.