The Struggle: Chapter 4
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A/N: One of my reviewers last week mentioned that I made a mistake by Harry and Snape disapparating from inside Hogwarts. My bad! I am very sorry for this, just try to ignore it. Anyway, please read, enjoy, and review!
"Welcome," Snape said with a smirk.
Harry and Snape walked up to the large mahogany door. Snape took out his wand, tapped the doorknob twice, muttered an incarnation, and the door flew open. Inside, was something Harry never expected.
The mansion looked like a home. It gave him a vague reminder of The Weasley's house, except much larger and neater. It seemed as though it was decorated by a woman, because the feminine touch was something Harry did not expect from Snape.
They stood in the foyer silently. Snape let Harry look around with his eyes for several minutes. Harry was awestruck. There were beautiful paintings and tapestries hanging from each wall. Well placed tables held little nick-knacks that tied the rooms together. And in the main room, straight down the hall, Harry could see a brightly lit fire place, sparkling and cracking.
A house elf suddenly scampered past and stopped quickly, looking up in awe at Harry. Harry looked down at it, frowned, and offered a little wave. The house elf looked up at Snape with worry.
"Master Severus has brought a guest with him? No guests have walked through the main door in years!" said the house elf in a squeaky voice. Harry concealed a laugh. Of course no one had, Snape probably just lived alone and brewed potions all day, he thought with a smile. Snape shoo-ed the house elf.
"Potter, follow, I'll show you what you need to see of the house and direct you to where you'll be sleeping," said Snape in a monotone voice. Neither were excited, but Harry followed Snape slowly, observing the house.
"Kitchen, dining room, living room, my room, which is off limits," Snape put emphasis on the last two words while continuing to point into rooms as they walked down a hall. Everything was well decorated, the theme of the house seemed to be Victorian themed. It was surprisingly well lit, unlike the dungeon Snape taught in.
As they passed Snape's room, Harry tried to peak in, but the door was half way closed. All he saw was that it was decorated and painted in a reds and golds, oddly like Gryffindor. Right before he pulled his eyes away he saw a moving picture on Snape's nightstand, beside the huge bed, but he couldn't make out who was in it.
"Your room, Draco's room, the bathroom, and the broom closet," Snape said, pointing to each one. Harry's room was at the end of the hall, and Draco's was on the left. Harry stopped and frowned at Snape.
"Draco? He stays here?" Harry asked, trying to crane his neck to see into Draco's room, which was painted dark green and quite dim.
"He is my Godson, so he often will come spend weekends with me, yes. Do you have a problem, Potter?" Snape suddenly snapped, noticing Harry's craning neck attempting to see into Draco's room.
"What? Oh, no, sorry," Harry murmured, turned around and clutching the handle on the door to his own room. From the clock on the wall, it was nearly eight o'clock and he hadn't eaten yet, but didn't want to pester Snape about it.
"I suggest while you stay here you mind your own business and stay out of trouble. You may go in any of the rooms on this floor, except Draco's, unless he visits and gives you permission, and my own room. The top floor is off limits," Snape warned. Harry nodded, processing the information.
"For the meantime, I suggest you settle in and get comfortable. There is a Muggle alarm beside your bed, which I do hope you know how to use. Meet me in the living room by eight o'clock tomorrow, we'll discuss rules and discipline while you stay here," said Snape. Harry simply nodded again.
"Your trunks are in your room," Snape finished, and with that, turned on his heel and walked down the hall. Harry felt his stomach growl, but the last thing he wanted to do was ask Snape for dinner. The man already seemed in an irritated mood that someone was intruding on his house.
Harry turned around and opened the door to his room, and stepped in. Surprisingly enough, it was not anything like what he could see of Draco's. The room was painted red with a gold trim, and it was very spacious. There was a bed, at least queen sized, with red sheets and fluffy pillows with gold pillow cases. Beside it was a nightstand, the same dark mahogany color as the front door, with only an alarm clock.
On the right side of the room, opposite the bed and dresser, was a large wardrobe and a full length mirror propped up against the wall. The only other furniture in the room was a desk and wooden chair, and Harry's trunks sitting at the end of the bed, along with Hedwig and her cage, who clicked her beak happily.
"Hey girl," Harry whispered, picking up her cage and setting it on the desk. She nibbled his finger and then clicked at the lock on her door.
"Want to fly, eh? Alright, I don't think Snape will mind," he murmured, unlatching the cage. Hedwig waited until Harry opened the window above his bed, and then happily flew out into the dim evening sky. Harry smiled and collapsed against his bed. No, Harry, the bed. You're in the room. None of this is actually yours, he tried to remind himself.
He closed his eyes and sighed, trying to get his mind off everything. He almost wished the bed and the room was his. It reminded him so much of Gryffindor. Why did Snape decorate his house in a Gryffindor style? It was so well lit and cheery. He expected something much more like what he saw of Draco's room, very dim and painted dark green.
Another suspicion rose in his head. Who was in the picture on the nightstand of Snape's room? He thought hard, and recognized that there were certainly people in it, two or three, he couldn't remember. Who they were, Harry was clueless about. Who would Snape keep a picture of on his nightstand? As far as he could judge, Snape lived alone and had no visitors. Who was worthy enough of a picture, but not visitation?
And what was upstairs that he didn't want Harry to see? Harry couldn't think of anything so bad that Snape would have to hide an entire story of a house from him. He sighed and grabbed the blanket from under him, twisting it over his tired body.
Harry's mind drifted around thoughtlessly before he began slipping into a deep trance. The last thing he heard before falling asleep was Hedwig landing on the window ledge and flying back towards her cage.
–
Snape sat in front of the fireplace, holding a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand, sipping it occasionally. He watched the fire burn, his mind wandering else where. He set the half empty glass on the ground and leaned back, observing the house.
Severus sat still for several minutes, thinking about what rules to establish in the house, when he heard a muffled scream. Severus stood up quickly from his chair, looking around. The house was silent for another minute before he heard the scream again.
Severus quickly glided down the hall, thinking to have heard the scream from the back of the house. Potter, he thought, groaning. Probably tried to climb out the window, ungrateful little idiot.
The scream started up again, this time louder and longer, along with some painful moaning. Severus rose his eyebrow and stepped towards Harry's room, pressing an ear against it. The moaning was loud, and did not seem to be a pleasurable sound. He heard another scream and quickly opened the door.
Potter was lying on his bed, thrashing back and forth. He seemed to be asleep, but Severus couldn't tell, his head was buried deep in his pillow. He took a step forward, and Harry screamed again.
"STOP! DON'T!" he shouting. Severus observed him for several more seconds. Potter's entire body was shaking, and he could hear his heavy breathing. Carefully, Severus got down on his knees beside the bed and grabbed Potter's arm. He tried to lash out of his grip, screaming even louder.
"NO! DON'T! PLEASE DON'T!" Potter shouted, his legs kicking wildly. Severus sighed, standing up, and took both of Potter's arms, flipping him over firmly and shaking him very hard twice.
"Potter, wake up, it's me, wake up," he hissed, shaking the boy's arms a couple more times. Harry opened his eyes and sat straight up, pushing Severus off impulsively.
"Stop! Don't! I—oh," Harry lowered his voice drastically when he saw that only Snape was beside his bed, who had both hands in the air, looking quite innocent.
"Sorry, did I wake you up?" Harry asked quietly, lowering his eyes and fidgeting with the blanket. He was nearly drenched in a cold sweat, still shaking from his nightmare. He could feel the heat spreading into his cheeks. He hated Snape seeing him weak.
"No, I was awake," Snape replied calmly, stepping towards Harry very slowly. Harry looked up, eying Snape curiously.
"You can leave, I'm fine now," Harry replied, with a little more annoyance in his voice that he had originally planned. Snape restrained from snapping back at him, as he felt a surge of sympathy running through his body.
"I think we should discuss what you were dreaming, Potter. Recovery is not only physical, but mental as well," explained Snape.
"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said in a very shaky voice.
"You don't have to tell me everything or go into specific details, Potter."
Harry sighed deeply, trying to calm down. "I was just remembering a time at my aunt and uncle's, that's all," he said, trying to look convincing. Snape rose an eyebrow.
"Elaborate, Potter. You were screaming for someone to stop," Snape said slowly.
Harry struggled to think back to the dream. He remembered it in vague details, and tried to piece them together carefully. He buried his face in his hands, trying to think. He suddenly remembered the dream entirely. The memory, one of his worst, rushed back like it was only yesterday.
"Boy! Did you clean the bathroom?" his uncle screeched. It was the beginning of the summer, and the abuse had only just started back up. Harry was washing dishes in the sink, and his uncle was in the living room, as he remembered.
"No, sir, not yet, I will as soon as I am done, though," Harry replied quickly. He only had three dishes left, but his uncle stood up and stormed into the kitchen anyway.
"I told you, you stupid, useless boy, the bathroom should have been cleaned before dinner!" his uncle yelled, grabbing a plate from the sink and throwing it at a wall. Harry jumped back several feet, dropping a plate himself.
His uncle screamed with fury, grabbing Harry by the collar and lifting him. He carried him by his collar to the stairs leading to the basement, and roughly dropped him. Harry tumbled down five or six stairs before regaining his balance.
He scrambled down the rest as his uncle came after him. Harry's arm throbbed and he suspected his ankle was probably broken, or at least fractured.
"Get back here!" his uncle screamed as Harry tried to navigate around the mess in the basement. His uncle grabbed him roughly and shoved him against a wall, dropping him, and holding him down with his foot. Harry squirmed helplessly.
"You little shit! You know what happens when you don't do what I say? You get punished! Get me the broom!" his uncle shouted. Harry crawled away from under his uncle's foot to the other side of the basement, grabbing the old broom. He crawled back, dragging the broom behind him.
"Get up, get up!" his uncle demanded. Harry stood, shaking, his leg ready to give out any second. His uncle grabbed the broom and held it under his arm.
"Undress! You little shit, faster!" Harry quickly took off his old shirt and jeans until he remained in just his boxers. He saw his the corners of his uncle's mouth turn up in an evil, deceiving way.
"I said undress. I mean everything," his uncle said very quietly. Nervously, Harry shuffled out of his boxers, standing completely nude. He was shaking, extremely cold and extremely nervous. He felt his uncle grab his shoulders and turn him around.
No, no, he wouldn't, that's terrible, he couldn't...Harry's mind trailed off as he felt the solid wood from the broom come in contact with his arse several times, smacking him hard. Harry cried out in pain each time, his sweaty hands sliding down the wall.
"You like that, huh, you little queer? You want something more? Yeah, I'll give you something more," his uncle hissed. Harry shook his head, slowly crying. He hated his uncle. He hated this. He wanted to curl up and die. He felt the broom move down his arse, and slowly...
Harry pulled himself from the memory before he cared to relive another moment of it. He couldn't help but choke out a sob as tears started flowing down his face. Snape sat on the side of the bed, watching Harry. He didn't know how to comfort the boy.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Snape asked carefully. Harry pulled his head from his hands and wiped his eyes, turning bright red and not making eye contact with Snape.
"It was just another b-beating, he just b-beat me with the b-broom," Harry replied. He didn't want to say anything about the sexual abuse. As far as he knew, no one knew about that, and no one had to.
"Just another beating? Potter, I hope you realize your uncle beating you is far from normal," Snape quickly said, frowning. Harry didn't look up from his lap.
"I need you to be honest with me, Potter, or this will be getting his no where. Tell me what happened," Snape quietly said, resting his hand on Harry's knee in a comforting way. Harry flinched and drew back quickly. Snape took the hint.
"I had forgotten to clean the bathroom before dinner, I was going to right after, but my uncle...he wanted it done before. So he...well, he threw me down the stairs and hit me with the broom a few times. And...well, that's it. Yeah, that's it," Harry said, his voice shaking. Snape nodded, but could sense that Potter was not telling the entire truth.
"Is that all he did?" Snape asked. Harry began nodding, and then slowly shook his head. He broke out into hysterical sobs.
"N-no," he cried, still staring into his lap. There was no reason for him to spill all of this to Snape, but he needed to get it out to someone.
"Harry," Snape started, flinching a little at using Harry's actual name, "you don't have to tell me anything. I would like if you did, and it would help to get it out."
Harry nodded, trying to calm down his sobbing. He felt Snape's hand on his knee cap again and did his best not to flinch away.
"He did other things with the broom," Harry finally muttered after a few minutes. Snape understood immediately. The room became painfully silent. Snape nodded a couple times and then stood up.
"I am going to bring you a Dreamless Sleep potion. Drink a small sip, it will be more than enough. We can talk in the morning, you look painfully tired," Snape said. Harry nodded, no longer crying, but did not look up. Snape left the room and returned in several minutes, handing Harry a flask with something yellow in it.
Harry took a long sip, the liquid warming his throat and body. He sunk down into the blankets, covering everything but his head. He no longer cared what Snape thought of him or how weak he looked. He didn't care about anything.
Snape took the flask back and set it on the dresser. He checked the alarm clock, which was unsurprisingly not set. He didn't bother to set it, simply turning off the lights with a quick "Nox" as he left the room.
Snape glided into his own room, settling down on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He no longer felt the same level of hatred towards Potter as he did the previous year. He did not like the boy, but he did not hate him.
He turned towards his nightstand and stared at the picture. He smiled sadly and touched it. It was a beautiful woman with long, reddish brown hair, with her arms tightly wrapped around a man's waist. The man was tall, pale, very scrawny, and had wild black hair. They were standing beside the Big Ben, laughing. She stood on her tip toes and kissed the man's cheek. He turned pink instantly and smiled like a fool. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She blushed a little as well, and kept laughing. Snape only looked away when he heard an owl hoot.
A brown owl sat on the ledge of the window, a letter in it's mouth. The owl flew over to Snape, dropping the letter on his lap, and then flew away quickly. Snape picked up the letter with curiousity and looked at it. In the center, it read Severus Snape in cursive, swirly letters. Snape traced each letter with his shaking finger. It was Lily's handwriting.
A/N: Ok, hope you guys enjoyed! Please review! Also, for anyone wondering, I haven't yet decided who I will pair Harry with, but I can guarantee it will not be Ginny or Cho. Any other ideas as to who you would like? It might involve some smut in later chapters, but more than likely just some sweet romance :) REVIEW!