Chapter Fifteen - Where I may not remove nor be removed
Ron's disgust, fear and loathing rippled over Harry's skin like the tongues of a cat of nine tails, chipping at his peace shredding his skin. "Ron…" his voice was low and quiet, and Hermione squeezed his hand as if to remind him that she was there, almost as if she expected a knock down no holds barred brawl. Well he was in no shape for that, and he didn't think Severus would like it very much. Severus. When had he started thinking of the prickly potions professor by first name? was it in those strangely comforting dreams where he was held safe in the mans arms, or was it simply that he owed the Slytherin head his life and that destroyed formality. "…Ron…mate…I need to be here" His voice was a whisper by the end he felt like he has swallowed broken glass, his gaze was fixed firmly on the floor, finding the dips and hollows in the weathered stone unutterably fascinating.
"Harry…" Ron's voice was strained, as if he too had sipped from the waters of the Pool "you need to be with your friends, with your own kind" My friends; he looked up and quietly surveyed Ron and then Hermione Sssuch friends my darling they never noticed, never sssaw past their own tiny concerns to yours… Harry closed his eyes against the hissing temptation that rang across his mind, the feeling like feathers brushing across his brain, muffling his own thoughts, that they were not his own kind no one was. The Wizarding world's saviour, born to die.
His hand came up and traced the invisible line around his throat, and knew then that he wanted to stay, perilous attraction and wizards debt out of the way, he had never been as content as he was now in the perfect working silence he had built with Severus Snape. Snape asked more of him than he was willing to give, but somehow gave even more, it was like being a willing slave with a master that you knew would never beat you "Harry…" this time it was Hermione "Are you sure?" Bless her for her tact she asked for nothing and so deserved to receive something, he squeezed her hand lightly observing that his palms were sweating slightly and turned his body so that his eyes could meet worried brown "I'm sure 'moine I'm…." he struggled with the word for a moment "content"
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Content? The boy was content living with him, with all the horrors Potter had managed to live with over the years and yet he had found a fragile peace in a tetchy spy's quarters. It was something of a revelation to Severus Snape that he could give that to Dumbledore's Golden Boy, he'd been sure that as soon as the boy saw his friends he'd be off like a shot, back to Gryffindor heaven. But then, they didn't seem to see past the surface, whereas he had learned to look beyond that. The boy was so badly broken that he could hardly be considered a threat to Voldemort, or maybe the façade would hold long enough for that to happen.
He doubted it.
Voldemort was a master of breaking the noble, and with Potters shattered body and notably unstable psyche he'd be nothing but a breakfast snack for Tom Marvolo Riddle. Severus looked up from his survey of the floor to find Granger watching him; he raised an eyebrow inviting her to speak and she took the invitation "Where's Harry going to stay?" Clever little Witch had counted doors, academic malpractice was once again whispering in his ears Dumbledore's permission or not "A place will be found for him, have no fear" As soon as the boy could be detached from his bed, a flicker of, was it fear crossed Harry's face and for a moment Severus almost reached out to reassure Potter instead he tightened his hands on the arms of his chair. He could lower his guard for one battered Gryffindor but not to two other obnoxious brats.
"Harry" his voice was even but he saw the spurt of surprise in Weasley's face, but he couldn't call the boy Potter, not when it brought back suddenly graphic images of the-boy-who-wouldn't –bloody-die naked in his bed "No one, I repeat, no one, can make you go anywhere, Dumbledore has approved your stay here" Snape watched as the boys fingers traced his throat, where his nightly phantom wore a velvet collar, before Harry nodded his head.