Disclaimer: I do not own the creation of Harry Potter or anything to do with it. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.
This is the second part to our Detention with Snape.
Chapter Five: Detention Part Two
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Snape swept to the back of his office and walked out of a door Harry had never noticed beside a cabinet of potions before. Harry warily followed on into the warmer room, feeling more and more wound up as he entered what seemed like Snape's personal quarters. They weren't anything of particular consideration or beauty. There was living room which consisted of a mahogany table with three matching chairs, two black couches with green and sliver draping's and two doors opposite the office door which Harry assumed led to a bedroom and a bathroom. There was a very small kitchen across from the two sofas which also contained a fireplace. Harry turned around to face Snape who was holding a vial containing a deep blue liquid.
"Drink this; it's a calming potion mixed with a soluble numbing solid. It'll cause the stinging to lessen whilst treatment," said Snape steadily handing over the container. Whilst the calming potion would essentially do what it says on the tin, the numbing solid, whilst blurring the pain during treatment, also had the tendency to also numb the mind, and in result loosen one's tongue and not necessarily be wholly consciously aware. Snape decided to withhold this information.
"Why are you helping me?" said Harry eyeing the potion suspiciously.
"Merely my duty. Trust me Potter, I seek no joy in having you in my company, nor do I intend to poison you. Someone would surely notice don't you think?" Snape sneered. This was true; this was not particularly a situation Severus wished to be in on the first day back at school.
"Of course. The Chosen One gone missing I'm sure," he replied, drinking the whole vile. The resentment in the teenager's voice did not go unnoticed by Snape.
"Sit down on the couch Potter," said Snape calmly. It would be much easier to deal with him now. Harry silently obeyed, his head swaying.
"Now; point to me all the areas it hurts the most." Harry hesitantly indicated around his chest and the left side of his hip. Snape cautiously leant forward and examined these areas with his wand, a soft blue glow coming from the tip; when he reached near the bottom of Harry's chest, the blue glow turned to a distinct yellow. Snape looked up at Harry grimly.
"You have a broken bone within your ribcage; easy to heal with a dosage of skel-grow no doubt, but nevertheless a broken bone. The hip seems to be the cause of intense bruising but you can treat this with a mere healing balm which we can use for your eye and cheek." Snape summoned said potion and balm and they came within an instant.
Harry remained silent throughout this whole ordeal, a slightly glazed look upon his eyes; even Snape could not blame him for being in shock. As Severus poured the correct contents of his potion into a vial and set it aside for later, he struck a conversation with Harry. "Is the memory you conjured true?" he asked guardedly.
"Sir I'm pretty sure you've figured out this one for yourself," said Harry tiredly, rubbing his non-bruised eye; there was a dull headache at the back of his head that seemed to be getting closer and closer to the forefront of his mind. Harry was ashamed – no beyond ashamed – he was humiliated by this whole tribulation. What misfortune did he have that on merely the first day back at Hogwarts, someone had already discovered his secret. But Harry was also confused, why was Snape helping him? Surely the Potions Professor could have just gone to Pomphrey and be done with him, but no – there was something holding Snape back. But what?
"I'm going to now apply the healing balm; this will soothe the pain and the bruising should go down in the next three days, providing you reapply this twice a day. Do I have your consent?" said Snape as he opened the container. Harry nodded impassively and indicated Snape to go on.
"So is he one of your relatives you live with then?" asked Snape for the second time that night, as he began to apply the healing balm to Harry's bruised torso and hip. Snape was aware that soon the numbing solid would begin to kick in, and Harry would become less aware on what he was talking about; perhaps it was better this way.
"Yeah, that's my uncle."
"Vincent Dursley if I am correct?" Snape replied, wracking his brains for any memory of Lily's older sister's husband.
"…Vernon, Sir," corrected Harry reluctantly. The less Snape knew the better, surely.
"Has he done this before, or any other form of mistreatment?" questioned Snape further.
"No Sir. He has never slashed me with a knife before or after this incident. But yeah, there's always been beats, not this bad, but I think it is okay. I think it's well deserved Sir," said Harry quietly, in a soft ramble.
Snape narrowed his eyes. What on earth did Potter mean by his blather of 'It's well deserved'? He had been expecting the fact that he had been abused before, but, the slash? Then how did Potter receive the other cut as well as the overall three across his arm and waist? Snape voiced his thoughts, trying to keep worry from his voice. Was there more than one abuser?
"Professor, they have had to deal with me since the age of one. They know how unsafe my being in the house is for them. Surely you can understand the burden I am upon their family; if it wasn't for me, their lives would be so much easier and they wouldn't have to have anything to do with the magical world that they hate so much. To them, I'm a freak, and why wouldn't I be? I have a form of power that they do not have, and that scares them. I mean, it really scares them. And I don't blame them; in their eyes I'm dangerous so it's understandable they hate me. I deserve their rejection and I accept how they feel about me," Harry spoke fast, dejection dripping on every word.
Snape shot Harry a look of pure loathing which was most certainly not directed at him and decided right there he was going to pay a visit to Privet Drive at some point. He simply couldn't fathom the prospect that anyone, even Potter, would place the blame for his trouble on himself, rather than the foul man who caused the red handprint marks around his neck, and the woman who let it all continue. Snape particularly despised this notion as his godson, Draco, was very similar in this aspect; instead of acknowledging Lucius' maliciousness as a trait in his dark disposition, Draco was ridiculously determined to find a fault within himself, in order to justify his father's actions. But there is no rationalisation for this, in any case.
Severus blinked aside the paralleling observation he made and arrived at another puzzle: How had no one recognised this seemingly regular occurrence? Not him, who had spent the past five years guarding Potter quietly, not Minerva, who was his Head of House, and finally not the omnipotent Professor Dumbledore, who appeared omniscient above all? Not even that oaf Hagrid whom which Potter was nonsensically attached to. How had they all equally failed when they were keeping an eye so close?
Surely someone should have noticed the scrawny underfed appearance Potter came back to the Magical World with every year, the exaggerated flinch and ducking reflexes, the lowered self-worth that caused Potter to make all those ridiculous stunts each year?
But Severus had noticed. He just simply hadn't cared.
Severus had seen the memories through Harry's occlumency lessons last year. The cupboard, the neglect, the bullying, but never had it crossed his mind that the cruelty would have gone further than that. In fact, Snape had never even seen abuse like- wait. How had Potter hidden this?
"Potter; regarding our occlumency sessions last year – how did you manage to conceal this information?" said Snape, cocking his head to the side.
"Sir… I honestly don't know. I somehow just managed to keep the things I truly didn't want you to see."
"Such as what Potter?" growled Snape, magically cleaning his hands.
"You know… Embarrassing things… like when I was seeing Cho… or the bad features at the Dursley's," said Harry softly, his eyes blurring at the slight pain caused by the now heavily applied healing balm.
"Mr Potter. Had I not taught you anything last year? You do realise, occlumency is exactly what you were doing in order to cover the 'embarrassing things' in your pathetic little life? It is a deep acknowledgement from within, a whole-hearted desire on every layer of your mind to conceal factors and reform them, willingly bringing forward another fabricated diversion. If you had acknowledged this, rather than make the sessions a living hell for the pair of us, perhaps your Godfather would not be dead!" said Snape furiously, eyes flashing maliciously as he got up in search for the burn salve.
Harry looked up miserably, those usually bright eyes, now pale and dull. "You think I don't know that now? But I can't do it, I don't know how, it's pathetic, I'm pathetic and I've had enough of people constantly dying because of me! Can't you see! That's why no one can know about this!"
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, his back towards the thin Gryffindor on his couch. He took a few steady breaths before saying, "Who actually knows about this? Can you count them on one hand or two?"
Harry looked at Snape's back thoughtfully and began to speak, his voice slurring with the numbing solid being in full action, "Obviously my aunt and uncle, Dudley – that's my cousin, then Piers who is his friend, and probably his gang because they always seemed to-"
"From Hogwarts Potter."
"Oh," said Harry sheepishly, "Well, I'm not sure. But Madame Pomphrey had seen something in the past, she questioned me once, in first year, but it was never brought up again."
"What about your friends?" said Snape incredulously, "Or the Weasley family… Did Black even know?"
"No! No. No one knew… And they can't, otherwise the past five years would have just been a complete waste. No. One. Must. Know," said Harry, his voice on the brink of panic despite his calming potion.
"Why ever not, Mr Potter? These wounds… Are unacceptable. I do not see, why no one can know, in particular the Headmaster. And moreover, why did you not fight back once you had the power to do so? You used your idiotic Gryffindor disposition to greet the Dark Lord on not one, not two, not three, but four occasions, decided to slay a basilisk single-handedly and you participated in the Triwizard Tournament, but you wouldn't defend yourself against your obese excuse of a relative? Why did you not bring up something was wrong?" said Snape, temper rising. Despite having retrieved the salve he was in search for, he did not return to the couch just yet, but watched the forlorn boy from afar. His mind was racing, if Madame Pomphrey had discovered something, as a minor, it was law for her to report this to the Head of House or the Headmaster. Why hadn't she?
Harry lent forward, his fingers caressing over one of the scars on his left arm, "Because nothing is wrong, Professor. This is the way it needs to be, whether I want this or not. Listen, I realised long ago, when I first started Hogwarts that something wasn't right over there, that I was being treated differently. But I asked Dumbledore years ago, damn it, I pleaded, and he explained to me the blood wards. You know about them right?"
Snape gave a curt nod in agreement as he finally returned with a sickly looking orange paste before Harry continued, "Okay, so this is how it is. If I get away from the wards, I'm no longer safe. If I go to my friends, like the Weasleys or Hermione, they're no longer safe either. Don't you get it? Wherever I go, I'm no longer protected from blood wards, Death Eaters can get to me, and no one is safe all over again. If Dumbledore knows I know that he knows, he HAS to remove me from there, and then no one is safe again, people will die, so that's why I need to pretend everything is okay, and that everything is fine; there is simply no better alternative."
Potter probably was not fully aware he was telling his most hated teacher the depths of his insecurities, but quite frankly Snape decided this was not a burden he should be holding anymore. He'd had enough of this ordeal, it was simply draining and this weight was too much upon his shoulders. How could the Golden Boy truly believe that Dumbledore knew all along? Was the boy insane? Just as Snape was about to open his mouth, Harry spoke up again.
"Sir I need to say something," started Harry anxiously, twisting his hands between each other.
"Continue; I have a paste here I am going to apply to your burns – do I have your consent?" asked Snape, adding the orange sludge onto a small cloth. Harry nodded and with much effort raised his head and looked at his teacher.
"I need to say I'm sorry – about last year with the pensive – I… It was wrong of me and I should have apologised earlier. I g-genuinely thought you were hiding something regarding the corridor I just kept seeing, so I took the opportunity – If I knew, really if I did – I wouldn't have done it- It was horrible and I know I don't have the right, but I want to apologise on my father's behalf too."
Snape subdued, his breath hitched by what he had just heard. Potter was apologising for his father? James Potter would be rolling in his grave if he knew what was happening right this moment. Snape wanted to believe that the apology was fake, false, some bizarre joke of his, but after all Snape had discovered this evening, and the fact the Gryffindor was dosed with a numbing solid, there was no case to justify that possibility; Harry Potter was telling the truth – he was apologising to Snape for his and his father's actions against him. Snape coughed uncomfortably, "Apology accepted Mr Potter, but not for your father, that's not your place."
"Right, yeah," said Harry, reddening slightly. Snape finished the paste application and spelled Harry's clothes back on.
"As for the Headmaster, I assure you he would have not have left his most preferred pupil, that he shows an arrant amount of favouritism too, in an environment like that. He may appear omniscient, but I assure you, he is not. I'm going to fetch him now, Mr Potter, please wait here."
Harry's face lost colour instantly. "What? You said you wouldn't! You promised!"
"Well I revoke my 'promise', Mr Potter; I do not have to 'promise' a pupil anything. What I have discovered here I must report, I can clearly see the potentials that threaten you, and you expect me to turn away?" said Snape getting up. He was not guilty for breaking his word, and he would convince himself he was not feeling guilty! Potter covered his face with two shaking hands.
"Don't pretend you care," said Harry, his voice barely audible, "You never have, so don't start to pretend now, you hate me like you hated my mother and father-"
"I did not hate your mother," Snape blurted out before he could stop himself. He stilled immediately, his composure cold, but Harry hadn't seemed to notice.
"Whatever- Just please don't-"
"ENOUGH!" yelled Snape, ignoring Harry's abrupt flinch, "Enough. I am sending message to the Headmaster, and you will do well to comply with all questions that come your way, and answer honestly. I will not deal with late adolescent whimpering."
And with that, Snape walked to the fireplace in the kitchen, grabbed a handful of floo and called "Headmasters Office," not sparing a second glance at the distraught boy on his couch.
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Chapter End
So didn't quite get to get Dumbledore making an appearance without it becoming far too long of a chapter. Hope this was satisfactory nonetheless. Please let me know what you think! Harry wasn't too angsty was he?
I've been listening to No.12 Harry and Hermione from the Soundtrack Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. It really is quite beautiful; one of the best songs on that soundtrack in my opinion.
Thank you to Murgy31, Allie Danger, Zireael07, FaeSong and Spellecho for your reviews in the previous chapter.
Please spare me a review if you get the chance, I'd love to know your opinions on the story so far!
Best wishes
Raiise