Title: When Destiny Is All You Have
Author: FlossPyromaniac
Rating: M
Notes: Thank you to then people who did review and said such nice things. This chapter for Batsutousai who wrote me a huge review. Much angst-y confusion in here. Unbeta'd and as usual, SLASH, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, BAD LANGUAGE and for next chapter CHARACTER DEATH (mwhahahahahaha) Feel free to try and guess whom…
IMPORTANT! This chapter is mixed POV. It goes Harry/Sev/Harry/Sev and is seperated by 'ccccccccccc'
Disclaimer: I have my own personal Severus to do with what I wish – don't all ofyou have one?As usual - I own nothing except the 'plot' contained within and a few of the spells. All other credit to J.K Rowling
Chapter 11: A Further Problem
Harry Potter was confused. There was no other word for it. He was snuggled up against something warm and firm, his arms around whatever it was in front of him. He didn't understand. Every morning he woke up and wished he hadn't. Wished that he could just drift away. This time Harry was feeling decidedly content. He ran a hand lightly down whatever was in front of him and discovered it was a person, a male person at that. A very nicely formed male person. Harry was then totally unsurprised when his body reacted to the proximity of whomever it was lying next to him. He honestly couldn't remember how he got there. Why he had got there for that matter. Random fucking was something he had indulged in when he actually cared about dying at Voldemort's hands.
Harry almost smirked. Wouldn't the wizarding world be shocked to learn their young saviour was a raging fairy? Actually, Harry severely doubted they would care. Not now. He was done.
He looked over the body again. It was very, very nice. Long and thin with light muscles and a few scars scattered around. Had it all been a dream then? Was the bastard still alive? He had killed him hadn't he? Yes, he was a murderer now. Or a saviour. Harry wasn't sure which was worse. He saw the scars on his wrists and knew it wasn't a dream. Flashbacks of the past few days ran through him. Those weren't real were they? Snape listening to him, understanding him without words, with pressure as no one else could. Sharing his chambers and even his first name with the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Wish-He-Hadn't. The one whom Harry had come to trust, just a little. Who actually seemed to care, just a little.
It then occurred to him whom he was in bed with, and just who it was he was getting hard from looking at.
Fuck.
He had come to respect Severus over the last few days, something he hadn't thought possible at the time, hadn't realised until now. He had planted seeds of doubt in Harry's mind. Did Severus care? Did that mean other people did? Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Things were so much easier when the thought he would be dead. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to be dead anymore.
He would do if Severus ever found out what he was thinking.
Harry was brought back to the present with a jolt. He liked his teacher. His teacher. That couldn't be right. It was true though, even though he knew it was Snape he was staring at, it had dissipated his… enthusiasm for the body in front of him. He hadn't notice the man only wore bottoms to bed. He was grateful though.
No he wasn't. He wasn't. This man had helped him, in his own way. He hadn't kicked him out yet. He had offered him potions help. He would not repay the man by pressing the attentions of a freak like him onto Severus. He was nothing. A used up weapon with nothing left to give and he wouldn't feel like this about his Professor.
The thought he would have to let go of Severus soon was almost painful. It twisted that part of him that told him to make a run for the bathroom and a razorblade.
He would have to be careful around Severus now. He couldn't let on about this latest development; it would do nothing but horrify the man. That this murderer would want him… it was safest to hide.
Could he do it? Of course. Hadn't he been hiding everything from his friends for well over a year? It would be easy to keep it from him. It had to be.
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Severus was dreading the day ahead. When he woke up the boy had already been awake, which worried him greatly. Almost sensing his concerns, Harry presented both of his wrists for inspection with a clear air of exasperation and… hurt? How could that be?
His skills at reading people had obviously faded with his removal from the Da-Voldemort's service.
The sense of relief he felt when he found the wrists held not knew scars was definitely an alien feeling. It was one Severus had rarely felt before. He had come to… care about this young man, this person so broken by circumstances. In every memory he searched, there was no other time when that had happen. It had been such a short period of time. How could he have gotten so close so quickly? Come to care, to want so much?
He could no longer put off the potions he owed Poppy for the infirmary. They needed to be started now to be ready in time for the beginning of term. How would he cope being with Harry all day? He would be so close… No. There was no way. The boy was suicidal enough as it was. There was no way Severus would add to his already impressive pile of problems with unwanted attention from the greasy git. How he had cultivated that image for so long, to get people away from him. No ties, and a lot of fear. There perfect position for a spy. The last teacher anyone would ever have a crush on.
Not that he wanted them to.
He wanted Harry to though didn't he?
Severus was beginning to really hate that little voice. It was eerily reminiscent of the mutt.
He drifted through his rooms in as close a condition as he ever got to being lost in thought. He still jumped when the Daily Prophet owl dropped the paper on the table. Only the usually post-Voldemort celebrations were shown. His eyes scanned down the front page. Fudge wanted to give Harry the Order of Merlin First Class.
Shit.
Best not to let him find that one out.
Breakfast was ordered again, or at least as much as either of them ever seemed to want breakfast. It seemed to consist of a lot of tea for both of them, with a good dose of caffeine to kick-start the day.
They drank in silence, Severus refusing to make eye contact until he was more focused. Until he could hide again.
'Harry.'
The boy almost dropped the teacup as his name was called. Obviously he had been lost in thought too. Severus needed to divert the boy more often. It was not good for him to have so much time with his own thoughts.
'Sir? Did you want something?'
It occurred to Severus that he had gained the boy's attention and then neglected to say anything else. This was an excellent start to what promised to be a exemplary day.
'We will be brewing healing potions for Madame Pomfrey today. She requires the basic pain potions and dreamless sleep, along with thing that are more complicated such as Skele-gro.'
It was difficult not to notice the flinch that came with the last one.
'Harry? Do you have a problem with that potion? You are not allergic to anything in it, unless I have been greatly misled by Albus.'
Though he wouldn't put it past the old coot.
Harry didn't seem to want to meet his eyes.
'D'you remember the Quidditch match in my second year Pr-Severus?'
Honestly? No… but Severus nodded anyway.
'The bludger broke my arm as I catch the snitch.'
Vague stirrings of memory… something about Lockhart?
'Lockhart removed all the bones in my arm.'
Ah. That would definitely explain the reaction to the mention of Skele-gro. It was one of the more singularly unpleasant experiences anyone could have, and in a former Death Eater's opinion that was saying something.
'My condolences.'
An almost-smile from Harry made his poor attempt at humour seem almost worthwhile. Almost.
They moved together into Severus' private lab and Severus watched as Harry glanced around, taking in all the vantage points and probable exits and entrances. Severus always did the same thing when he went somewhere new. It made him sad to think that someone so young would do the same thing and be marked by paranoia for the rest of his life.
He was drifting again.
They spent of little while just going over the ingredients Severus had, and the different types of cauldron, and how that would affect different potions. The knowledge that Harry had shown a little of earlier was astounding in comparison to his class performances. Severus was beginning to wonder just how good an actor Harry was, to fool everyone for so long and hide all his abilities. They had discussed theory for well over an hour, throwing idea back a forth, Harry barely even seeming to be paying attention, but somehow a little more focused in what he did. Those cool jade eyes seemed to gain a little life as he talked. To Severus, it was nothing short of breathtaking.
They had moved on to actual potion making very quickly after that.
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Harry was beyond confused. The bone–deep sadness that had been present since he had heard the prophecy, since had had lost Sirius was still there. Still strong, and twisting something inside of him. There was just something that… wasn't. When they had been talking about potions, him and Severus it was like something almost normal. He had been more alive, more awake and had been near basking in the attention of the Potions' Master.
This couldn't be healthy.
Harry internally snorted. What about his life was? Did it really matter how he felt when he was just biding his time?
Harry wasn't so sure he was anymore. Did he still want to die?
Yes.
No matter how he felt about Severus it would do him no good in the end. The man was 20 years his senior and would have no interest in a suicidal saviour with a familial connection to James Potter. He was stuck with this… problem and no way to fix it. A stupid child who had served his purpose in life with the deadliest curse. Voldemort was dead. He was done.
Harry snapped back in to Severus saying something about Skele-gro. He couldn't stop the flinch that came with that. That had to be one of the more painful experiences of his life. All things considered, that was saying something.
He made some sort of response to Severus questions, barely focusing now until one soft, sardonic comment floated into his mind. So simple, and so like him. That voice didn't hurt either.
Bad Harry. Stop That.
Harry worked quietly all afternoon, absorbing the close proximity of Severus, the warm of him. So strange to think of him as warm. He was here under orders though, as Dumbledore instructed him. He didn't care really. Did he? Could he?
The afternoon passed in a blur of slicing and stirring. Healing potions were not exactly taxing to the mind. Not one that had trained so much anyway. Harry was focusing all his attention on trying to listen to that voice and not come there and then.
Gods, that was difficult.
Eventually, who knew how much time later, Severus announced it was time to stop for the day. Harry had to near physically stop himself from staring at the huge number of vials that were set before them. How had he done so much and not noticed?
What if that was it? Had they finished? Severus would leave him then. All alone in the room, while he dealt with more important things. People that mattered. How much could one hospital wing hold?
He wouldn't ask though.
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Severus had struggled, as predicted with Harry's closeness all day. They way his hands had moved across the ingredients. It was so…
Severus decided to stop that thought before it went somewhere that would get him into even more trouble.
He barely noticed the evening go by, as they sat in chair reading and passing the occasion comment. Talking about potions, and defense. Safe subjects that were not too connected with the Order. With Voldemort.
He spent most of that time studying Harry. He was undoubtedly beautiful in himself, with a slight androgynous look, presumably from his size as well a his features. Harry had always been small. It was his eyes that drew people though, Severus could tell. Large jade coloured orbs clouded by pain and harsh experiences and things that no one should have seen. Severus had seen that look in his own eyes, in those of the Order. It didn't belong on a young man's face. It gave an ethereal sense to him that was so captivating though.
It then occurred to Severus it was time to go to bed. The bed he shared with Harry.
Something around here really hated him.
He felt like a third year with his first real crush. It was by no means a dignified position to be in, and dignity was all that Severus had left now.
He sent a mental prayer out to any deity who could hear him, or Albus, who he had no doubt could hear him to, to deliver him from this torment.
Nothing came and Severus lay listening to the breathing of his pupil until he drifted off into frustrated dreams.
TBC
A/N: READ ME - IMPORTANT! Okay people it's time to pay attention again. I am totally rushed off my feet. I have so much work to do it's just not funny. It's taken me far too long to write this cos I wanted it to be longer for all of you. The next chapter will be out… hell I don't know when, but hopefully next week. It's all going to get very complicated…
Right now, I have very little drive to write. I know there are lots of you reading this, because there are 51 people on story alert, but only 10 of the people who read this reviewed. Please, please say something. Do you like something, not like something? Is the characterisation of someone going dodgy? Do you have any ideas or requests for the future? Any ideas as to whom is going to die (next chapter people!)
Help me please, and I can try to get this stuff out faster for you.
My thanks to:
lollenk/Angelus McCauley/Batsutousai (thankee for the huge review honey)/Sophia/kizunakat/Setg' –in/Gryffens/Kumaralovergirl/mikemack/kears
xxxxx
Floss