A letter on the kitchen table, a cup of tea and a fluttering heart.
WARNING: This fanfiction contains swearing, malexmale, violence, child abuse
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Characters ©
Chapter 31
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Harry woke to the single ray of sunlight slowly crawling it's way across the covers. He bit his lip as disappointment welled in his chest. The bed was empty.
He had dreamt that someone had held him, that everytime he had shifted a hand had been there, lightly touching.
But Seveus had never returned.
He threw the covers off violently, disturbing the small ray of light, and struggled out of bed. He fought off the foolish need to cry, his head feeling heavy from tears spilt the night before.
He shouldn't have been stupid enough to believe that Severus would come back. Especially now that he knew the truth. Knew how dirty, how weak he was.
Harry ran a hand through his long hair, gazing wearily around the room. He paused, his clothes that he'd kicked off, were folded neatly over the chair, another set which were too small to be his, placed on the desk beside it. The house had no house elves.
Severus had come back. Maybe he hadn't dreamt it all.
He blinked, before a small smile forced itself on his lips. He stood there in the middle of his room, giddy with the sudden joy, the relief.
"I can't believe..." He moved forward a little, his hand reaching out to brush the folded clothes. He smiled, before heading toward the bathroom.
Performing his morning rituals brought the reminder of what the day could bring, and what yesterday had revealed. The smile faded and he bit his lip at the reminder and scrubbed his skin just a little harder.
Now in the light of day his reaction to Sirius had been mortifying, how could he have reacted like that? Sirius was his Godfather, he'd never harm Harry, even though Harry deserved it. Deserved to be punished for all the lies he'd told, all the truths he had kept hidden from him.
Hadn't Harry almost led his Godfather straight to the Ministry of Magic to be killed?
He squeezed his eyes shut.
What he suffered, he deserved.
The Dursley's were right to punish him.
He only ever brought pain and suffering.
They'd always told him that. He was a freak to be dealt with.
Now he'd let his freakish ways taint the life he had tried to keep separate. Everyone would know that he would need to be punished, that he was weak, that he was dirty, he was stained.
But Severus had come back.
He blinked at the thought, startled by the bright red his skin had turned from the hard scrubbing he hadn't realised he had been doing. The water had run cold.
It was a soft voice in the back of his mind.
But Severus had come back. Hadn't he?
He frowned slowly drying himself, noticing once again the scars that ran like small silvery ribbons across the pale skin. He trailed one up his abdomen.
It looked almost like the one left by Vernon's belt across his thigh. He hoped the potion's master hadn't noticed it.
Had Severus come back?
He shook his head, the long wet locks swaying. Maybe he hadn't, maybe Harry was just overreacting, seeing thins he wanted to see, assuming. And he knew that assumptions could lead to trouble.
Besides why would Severus have come back? It was because of Harry that the man had suffered so much. Not just the recent events, but in the past as well. Hadn't the dark haired potion's master always tried to protect him? He was always injured when he tried to pull Harry out of danger.
He had kept so much hidden from everyone and it had made the danger greater and greater. They needed to know. Needed to know that he wasn't worth saving.
Severus deserved the truth.
As did Sirius.
And Remus.
Taking a deep breath Harry finished dressing. Gathering what little shredded courage he still had he moved toward the kitchen. He would have to face them all today, have to see the expressions on their faces, deal with their disgust, their pity, their judgements.
But he would do it without a mask, without false stories.
They deserved the truth.
And he deserved whatever they gave back.
Gritting his teeth he stepped into the empty living room, before shuffling to the kitchen.
It was empty save the letter on the table, a few scattered postcards and the still steaming tea kettle beside it.
Sitting down he noticed a hastily scrawled note on top of the letter.
Drink the tea Potter. You tossed and turned all night.
Do not disturb me in the lab. The letter is important.
SS
Harry froze.
Severus had come back!
His heart a little faster and he smiled as he poured himself a cup. Picking up the letter he skimmed it while sipping the warm brew.
The postcards were to be their only way of contacting the wizarding world except for the occasional visit. A muggle postal system that wouldn't attract any attention. The letter included instructions on how to post them.
Harry skimmed on, the tea calming his nerves, relaxing his fluttering heart, the tenseness that had been gathering between his shoulder blades, waiting for an attack on his already weak mental state. He noticed the calming drought and the bitter taste of sleeping potion, he would have enough time to read the letter before stumbling to bed.
He thanked Severus silently in his mind before he continued reading. It was probably better for him to face everything after a proper sleep. Look at everything calmly.
His heart fluttered a little and he tried to suppress it, and continued reading.
The word Crusade jumped out at him. It gave a detailed description of a group that was attacking families which had been in league with the Dark Lord before the war, though since then they had been found innocent.
It sounded nothing at all like the harmless pranks that had been occurring at the school. But this gave accounts of spilt blood, torture, and occasionally death. Harry felt his face paling as he read an account of a family he knew to be free of Voldemort's influence, targeted only because they were related through distant blood. Their six year old daughter had been tortured and killed.
The letter described the lack of action taken by the Ministry of Magic, the blind eye turned towards the
attacks. According to them the Crusades were a force of vigilante's; they were doing what the Ministry weren't legally able to, wiping out those labelled as dark.
Harry grit his teeth. Another case where the Ministry was useless. The less the Ministry had to do with anything tasteless the better for them, but meanwhile people suffered.
The letter then explained what the Order was doing to prevent this. Targeted families were given a secret haven at the school over the holidays, attacks were impeded, but they were gaining in number and menace. But they had little information to go on.
The letter was signed McGonagall.
Harry frowned, flipping the parchment over.
There was no news of Dumbledore.
He yawned tiredly. The tea had seeped into him, relaxing his muscles.
It was time to go before he fell asleep at the table.
Stumbling he only got as far as the lounge room before collapsing on a couch.
SS
Severus sat quietly, perched on a high lab stool, watching for the moment when the red liquid would begin to glow lightly around the edges. His hand was poised ready with two lacewings.
He had woken early, untangling himself quickly from the boy. In his sleep he had thrown his leg over the others thigh, his arms around the long pale neck. The morning had presented an embarrassing and potentially dangerous problem.
Cursing teenage hormones, and the body he was stuck in, he had escaped with only his own shame and mortification.
The shower had been quick and cold.
The letter skimmed with little thought to the contents, he had figured as much. The Crusades would not have been started by children, it was too organised, too calculating. Children acting out their parents wishes, before they too became involved.
He had slid down to his dungeons with the intention of ignoring Potter for the rest of the day. The thoughts of that morning were to be pushed out of his head, the closeness he was starting to enjoy with the boy straining his nerves. There was much that would need to be discussed.
But he would deal with that and Potter later. The name had felt out of place in his mind, and he tried to forget that he had been calling the boy, Harry and not Potter, for far too long now. He needed to try and forget for a while.
The lacewings fluttered before they were caught on the surface of the potion, dissolving almost as soon as they touched.
Severus held his breath.
It turned green, vibrant, almost the colour of Lily's eyes.
Harry's eyes.
He frowned, a quick flick of his wand and the potion disappeared, the cauldron clean once again.
He started again.
He took a deep breath trying to clear his mind.
This would take all of his concentration.
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To be cont'