Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. The only thing that I would own was the plot. My Sprite is gone, so you can't have it! Even if you sue!
Warning: Dark, again, and unsettling news that I know for sure is not an original idea. It's been done before, so don't get all grossed out on me.
A/N: Well, hey everyone! Thanks for the great reviews! I swear, I was nervous opening them and reading them. I see that I caused some confusion on a sentence of the 12th chapter. When I said, "Snape woke a few hours later to an intense pain on his left (A/N: Is that the right arm?) forearm," I meant right as in correct. Um, I guess I should have said that rather. My mistake. Someone said that my story was a little weird in some parts. Lol. That's really a compliment to me. I like being weird, and different, you know? Thanks for the compliment! Lol. Um, I'm writing this story right now at 12:39 Midnight, and I'm not really supposed to be up, so I dunno how much I can type tonight. I'd be dead if I was caught, but I really wanted to type. Lol. Ok, I'll get on wit' da story, now. Here you all go!
Chapter 13: Deepest Darkest Secret
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Last time: Harry turned his hands over so that he was staring at his palms. He could see the blood stains from his escapade at the Dursley's. Harry began to furiously scratch at himself. He felt the need to scratch all of his skin off, so he wouldn't feel dirty anymore. He scratched at his face, arms, legs, anywhere he could reach. He scratched so hard that he started to bleed. He hated himself! Why did he have to live? Why did he have to go through that? Harry scratched himself harder, more blood coming out. He suddenly felt the urge to scream, which he did. He gave an anguished scream, choked with sobs. He hated himself. Die, Harry thought to himself.
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Angry was an understatement of what Harry felt. Harry was having mixed emotions. He felt furious and anguish at the same time. He continued to scratch at himself. Harry's broken, dirty nails kept cutting into the skin making jagged but shallow cuts. Suddenly, the front door burst open and Snape walked in.
You could tell that he'd been under the cruciatus curse. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and he had a little bit of mud smeared on his face. His robes were torn a bit, but that was it. Snape came in with his usual scowl plastered to his face. He didn't notice Harry until he stepped completely into the house. Snape's eyes widened. "My God…" Snape whispered in shock.
Harry's head immediately whipped up to the direction that he had heard Snape's voice come from. Harry looked into Snape's eyes. They stayed that way for a few moments when realization suddenly hit Snape. He looked into Harry's tear filled eyes, and then to his scratched and scarred body. He cautiously walked over to Harry, and kneeled in front of the chair. He received the most unexpected thing in his life. Harry threw his arms around Snape's neck and cried into his shoulder.
"I-I-I didn't t-tell anyone. N-No one! Th-th-they never knew! No one cared. When I c-cried no one was l-l-listening! No one's listening." Harry cried. "I'm listening, Harry. I'll always be listening. Even when I'm not around, I'll still be listening." Snape said. Harry just continued to cry on Snape's shoulder, like he didn't even hear Snape speaking.
Suddenly, Harry pulled back. "I shouldn't be doing this." Harry said darkly. Snape looked confused. "What do you mean?" Snape asked. More tears streamed down Harry's face. "I shouldn't even be touching you, or anybody else. I'm dirty, filthy. Can't you see it? Can't you see the filth on my skin? It's there, and it will never come off!" Harry began scratching at himself again.
Snape grabbed both of Harry's arms with each of his hands. "Stop it, Harry. Look at what you're doing to yourself! You're not dirty. You just feel like it. I know. I know what that feels like. Like things are crawling all over you and you can't get them off. Harry, I've tried the same exact thing before. This kind of thing doesn't help. You need to talk about it, not hurting yourself." Snape said, looking Harry straight in the eye. Harry didn't say anything. "Here, why don't we go over to the couch, and we can talk, okay?" Snape asked. Harry just nodded.
Snape had somehow completely forgotten about Harry's gun wound. How Harry had even gotten down the stairs, he didn't know. Harry was about to step out of the chair when and immense pain shot through him. Harry cried out in pain as he remembered his stomach. Snape sighed. "I don't know how you got down here, but it must have been some nightmare to give you that kind of will power." Snape said. He gently picked Harry up, and brought him over to the couch.
Snape sat Harry on the couch, and he sat directly next to him. Harry looked in the opposite direction from Snape as more tears welled up in his eyes. "Harry, what happened tonight? Did you have another nightmare, or was it something else?" Snape asked. "Memory." Harry mumbled. "What happened in this memory? Was it with you uncle?" Harry nodded. "You've never acted this way before." Snape said, looking at Harry. Harry turned his head to stare at Snape. He looked into Snape's eyes, and the tears that had welled up were now flowing down Harry's scratched face. Snape's eyes widened as he realized what this memory was about.
Harry burst out crying again, burying his face into Snape's chest. Snape knew that he presumed right, but he had to be sure. "Harry, did your uncle rape you?" Snape asked so quietly it was almost a whisper. Harry cried louder, indicating that Snape was correct. Snape sighed his, now, infamous sigh. He had suspected something like this happened when Harry told him that his uncle abused him. Snape should have guessed that this was coming, for he did the exact same thing when…well, he didn't want to think about it right now.
Harry began to shiver. He felt so cold. Snape's robes seemed so soft and comforting, strange as though it may seem. Harry buried his head deeper into the warm robes. His crying was slowly stopping, and he was falling asleep. Harry's fists were clenched around Snape's robes as if someone was going to take him away. Harry was so very tired, and soft fabric made him feel comforted. Although Harry was in very bad mental pain, he fell asleep.
Harry had stopped crying, and he was breathing deeply, in a surprisingly dreamless sleep. A bunch of emotions were going through Snape's head. Snape looked down at the sleeping form snuggled in his robes. Even though this was a very disturbing circumstance, Snape let a small smile form on his lips. It was the first time that Snape had smiled in a long time. No one had ever come crying to him before, and now that someone had, it made him feel important. It also made him feel comforted.
Snape saw something on Harry's neck. It was a bluish grayish something. Something in the shape of a handprint. Upon further inspection, he found out that it was a handprint. He gently put a finger on it, and Harry jumped in obvious pain. Snape was wearing a confused look. He hadn't seen this before. He should have seen it. Harry's skin was so pale it went beyond Snape's own complexion. How could I've not seen this? Snape thought to himself. He'd have to ask Harry about it when he was a little better. Snape himself began to doze off.
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The next thing Snape knew, it was morning and a handbag was attacking him. The person holding the handbag was Hogwart's very own Madam Pomphrey. "What in the bloody hell are you doing, woman?!" Snape yelled. "Ignoring my instructions, are you?" Poppy said, slamming the handbag down on Snape's head. Snape threw his hands over his head for protection. He glanced over to his front door, and saw Dumbledore bent over laughing.
"A little help would be nice, Albus!" Snape said loudly. Dumbledore still couldn't control his laughter, though, so no help came. "I *whack* told you not to *whack* take him out of *whack* bed!" The medi-witch yelled. "Poppy, I think we should let Severus explain himself." Dumbledore said, laughter still in his voice.
Poppy stopped whacking Snape with the handbag, glaring at him. Snape gave an equal glare to Poppy. "Severus, what is Harry doing down here, and why is he in your arms?" Dumbledore said, amusement in his eyes. Snape sighed, and cast a nervous glare at Poppy. Dumbledore noticed this. "Poppy, do you mind if me and Severus talk for a bit?" Poppy gave one more glare at Snape, and then walked off into the dining room.
"Albus, I'm not even sure if I should be telling you this, but you have to know sooner or later. You might want to sit down." Snape said, before explaining the events of last night. Dumbledore's face was completely void of color after Snape was done. "Also," Snape said, indicating to Harry's neck, "You might want to see this." Dumbledore stepped closer to Harry, and glanced at what Snape was pointing at. "A handprint…?" Dumbledore said, confused. "You see, it wasn't there one day, and now it is. It's as if it came in his dreams." Snape said.
Poppy came bustling through the dining room door with a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup in her hands. "The poor boy needs to eat something. He's as skinny as a pole." She said, eyeing Harry warily. "Severus, can I talk to you?" Asked Dumbledore, going over to the dining room door.
Snape began to pull Harry off of him, but his fists continued to clutch at Snape's robes like a lifeline. "No, don't leave me!" Harry whispered urgently. Those words cut at Snapes heart. He looked back at Dumbledore with a pleading look. Dumbledore just looked back at him with a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face.
Dumbledore walked over to Harry, and began talking to him. "Harry, Professor Snape and I need to talk for a minute." Harry brought his head up to look at Dumbledore, and then at Snape. "Will you come back?" Harry asked. Again, those words seemed to wrap around Snape's heart like a cord. "Of course I'll come back, Harry." Snape said.
Reluctantly, Harry let go of Snape's robes. Snape got up, and went into the dining room with Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked very grave. "What is it, Albus?" Snape said. Dumbledore sighed. "I noticed that you and Harry have gotten very close." "A little bit, why?" "Well, there's no since in me beating around the bush. Severus, I have very grave news. For you and Harry, both. Especially Harry."
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A/N: Well, did you all like it? Please don't flame me! Um, sorry for the cliffhanger, but you gotsta add them sometimes, y'know? Um, feel free to ask some questions, cuz I'll probably answer. Also, feel free to send me e-mails. Um, don't know what else to say, really.
To: ^_~ (Nice….er…screen name): I'm sorry to hear that your Grandpa is dying. Mine's dying as well. From lung cancer. That's not really the reason why I'm depressed, though. I'm depressed cuz everyone in my family is dying off. First my dad, then my grandpa. I've got no one. My mom doesn't really count cuz she just sits around telling me how stupid I am and that I'm a bad child. Lots of more reasons why I'm depressed, but I don't wanna waste space for my self. I hope you feel better, though! I hope you can make it through this, cuz it's pretty tough to lose someone.
Sorry that I don't make a lot of personal comments to my reviewers, but there's too many. But, if you have a question, then I'll make a personal comment to you. Well, gotta go, my mom's in here and it's pretty uncomfortable to be in here when she just said that she should commit suicide because of me. Bye!