Chapter 17
Morning arrived spilling early sun into the room and over Harry's face. He was calm and content as he slowly opened his eyes. Feeling ten times better than he had in many days but for only the briefest moment before his surroundings fully registered. Groping for his glasses on the bed side table Harry sat up quickly and shoved them onto his face. Snape was standing in front of the wardrobe putting on his cloak with his back to Harry. His lank black hair gleamed brightly in the morning sun making it look as if it had been recently dipped in water. But no droplets formed, so it could only be the thick layering of grease and grime associated with the Potions Master. Harry wiped his own face face, almost assuming his hand would come away covered in the same layer of oil. Thankfully it wasn't and Harry quickly looked away feeling, for reason other than his recent illness, that he might be sick.
Next to the foot of his bed Harry saw his own trunk waiting with his stack of library books setting neatly upon it. Harry visibly jumped as Snape's voice broke the silence, "Your stuff has been moved permanently here Potter."
Harry didn't reply. Great, so he was stuck with the slimiest git in the world as his roommate, he shivered as he thought 'Snape's more than just a roommate', and Draco Malfoy got to stay all alone in his old room. Harry would have normally been fuming, Draco and Snape ruining the memory of his families home, but instead Harry felt only dully angry and more than a little numb.
"I won't tolerate your sloven nature in here Potter so unpack properly." Snape made a careless gesture towards the dresser, a few empty drawers slid out and one of the wardrobe panels swung open.
"Don't tell me what to do Snape." Harry snarled quietly at Snape. "This is my house."
Snape made no comment but merely turned towards his desk in the corner of the room. Another small desk now sat under the window with a wooden chair snugly tucked under it. His pre-packed backpack sat next to it, as it did in Harry's old room, still untouched and packed exactly the same way as he had done it at the Dursleys. Once again a thick silence filled the room, neither occupant willing or wanting to speak but simply ignoring the other. Looking down Harry picked at Snape's grey night shirt that he was still wearing and quickly stood up. Snape didn't look up as Harry opened his trunk and fished out some clean clothes. He stood with the small bundle in his harms and made towards the door, stuffing down the dizziness that swept over his body.
"Where do you think you're going?" Snape asked snappishly.
Harry gestured with his clothes, "the loo." Clenching his jaw and gripping the quill that was in his hand Snape stood up glaring at Harry. Harry raised his eye brows, surely he was allowed to change and relieve himself in peace. Gliding towards him Snape continued glaring at Harry expectantly.
"Well, move!" Harshly pointing towards the door as it swung open. Harry glared back at Snape and continued out into the hallway with Snape following him like giant bat. As quick as he could Harry entered the privy and tried to quickly shut the door, Snape stopped it with the toe of his shoe. "What part of constant contact don't you understand?"
Furious, Harry pulled on the door trying to crush Snape's foot. "What is one door going to matter? I don't need your help in here!" For several moments inky black eyes stared into emerald green until Snape removed his foot and before he could say anything else, Harry slammed the door in his face.
In fact as soon as the few inches of wood separated Harry from Snape the dizziness swept over him again. Clutching the sink and gritting his teeth Harry slid over to the toilet and pulled off the nightshirt and threw it onto the ground. A wave of nausea swirled around Harry's stomach. Taking several slow breaths Harry relieved himself, painfully picked up his clothes from the floor and dressed. It took a long time, each movement sent waves of lightheadedness and anxiety through his body, but Harry continued on; forcing himself to be strong, forcing himself to fight the affect Snape had over Harry. Finally Harry inched to the door and pushed it open, a strong wave of relief washed over Harry immediately making something like a snarled come out of Harry's mouth.
Snape it seemed had been leaning against the door frame clutching it with white-knuckles and his face seemed, if possible, even whiter. Snape's made a jerky movement towards Harry, as if to gram is arm again but it stopped mid-action and Snape turned on his heel heading back towards their room. Without thinking Harry followed.
Nobody spoke as the day slowly progressed. Tilly brought in a plate of food for breakfast, lunch and dinner bowing and smiling at Harry each time she did. Harry lay listlessly on the bed for long periods of time, then would get up out of pure boredom, and because Harry had no wish to speak first to Snape, unpacked his clothes into the dresser and hung up his cloaks in the wardrobe. For a moment memories of his first class with Lupin in his third year flickered across his mind. Snape approaching Neville menacingly then suddenly transformed, and wearing his Grandmother's clothes. The sides of Harry's mouth twitched upwards but the memory was pushed away leaving Harry bored and agitated again. He had moved all of his books to the small desk and finally unpacked the contents of his backpack; a few clothes, his invisibility clock, some wizard money and a sneak-o-scope wrapped in a dirty old sock. He stashed his wand into one of the desk drawers and sat down heavily on the stiff wooden chair.
The Orders meeting filled Harry's head as he stared out of the window. Voldemort had the new Minister of Magic under the Imperius, which Harry's avid imagination quickly started playing out worst case scenarios. Some of the least of which included decrees being passed to legally hunt Muggles and Half-Bloods, and Voldemort sitting behind a mighty throne at the Ministry of Magic watching as his Death Eater resumed control. His lay-abouts, organizing and musings were broken up only by going twice more to the privy and Tillys short visits. Staring again out the window at the brown dried up grass and frail dead bushes littering the landscape around Godricks Hollow, Harry's thoughts turned over and over until they landed finally on the grimorie mark.
A mark that had Snape, Dumbledore and Lupin clearly worried and had strangely appeared on the back of Harry's neck. Unconsciously feeling the back of his neck he reached out to the worn old tome laying on the desk, titled Old Magic. Flipping it open and scanning the chapter index. The titles betrayed nothing so glaringly obvious as, All About The Grimorie Mark, but remained vague and unhelpful. Flipping to one of the chapters Harry hadn't read yet he slouched in his chair and began to read.
The chapter called, Mystic Signs from the Outer, gave no help to Harry either about the Mark or a spell to take down Voldemort. Cautionary Curses, Potions for Prevention and Maladies of the Soul all remained unhelpful. The last chapter seemed promising, but as Voldemort had no soul that Harry knew of, it didn't lend any help. Harry's eyes were burning as he finished reading and tossed the book away from him with hollow thump. The noise broke the eery silence that had suppressed the room and Harry jumped despite himself. Glancing at Snape, only to see him furrow his eyebrows but remain focused on a pile of parchments, Harry stood up from the desk and wished for more than once that day that he could go and find Ron and Hermione. He needed help with figuring out this mark, and was sure that Hermione may have come across it in one of her other classes.
It was reassuring that even though Harry had been acting like a total prat, they were still on his side. Not Dumbledore's side, not the Orders, but Harry's. He only had to wait six more days, six more days until he could freely talk to Ron and Hermione or summon up the courage to ask Snape. Harry laid on the bed, letting his limbs fall carelessly and closed his eyes.
Harry woke up to quiet whispers and a dimly lit room. Only one candle was left burning on Snape's desk and a small crake of light seeped in from the partially closed door. Squinting across the room Harry could make out Snape's frame blocking some of the light but he blocked the view of whoever he was talking to. Snape's voice was too low for Harry to hear but the others was not.
"Please Professor, I need to know if she's okay." Pleaded Draco Malfoy, "My mother what's happening to her?"
Snape responded but it obviously wasn't what Draco wanted to hear, his voice rose, "You don't know! You have to find out! How-" but Snape cut him off and stepped further into the hallway and out of sight. Harry heard the opening and closing of a door close by and felt the pull of anxiety tug at his middle. Quickly it passed as Snape re-entered the room, not even sparing a glance in Harry's direction.
Snape extinguished the candle and the room was filled with darkness, the curtains had been closed so even the moonlight couldn't seep in. Sounds of cloth swishing, a door creaking open and close, and then footsteps towards the bed where Harry lay. His glasses were still on his face from when he lay down earlier but Harry shut his eyes tightly feigning sleep as if Snape could see through the darkness. His quiet footfalls walked around to the other side of the bed and it dipped slightly and Snape sat down.
Harry suddenly was full of anxiety, not the same feeling he had when Snape wasn't close enough to him, but another kind entirely. His heart and lungs seemed to be suddenly drenched in an icy cold bath and his stomach clenched tightly. Barely breathing Harry waited as the anxiety mounted, he had never fallen asleep while Snape had be there, in the bed so close. He had always fallen asleep first, and perhaps been aware of Snape's presence in the morning but this was quite different. It was alien and wrong, Snape was and had always been his most hated teacher. A person he despised more than Malfoy and only slightly less than Voldemort. Harry struggled to maintain his feelings but his hands began to tremble and he squeeze his eyes shut screwing up his face, clenching his teeth. The enemy was in his bed, or Harry was in his, but either way the feeling of pure wrongness was filling up his body and mind.
Horrible, tense and painfully long minutes stretched out before him, Snape unmoved from his seated position and Harry failing to control his dread. "Potter" croaked out into the silence causing Harry to involuntarily suck in a large amount of air loudly. "Empty your mind," Snape said continuing without comment, "stop thinking and clam down." Harry had been trying that already but he couldn't shake the feeling.
Snape cracked his neck and a few loud pops reverberated around the room. "Calm down" he repeated again and though Harry couldn't be sure, it sounded like Snape was speaking more to himself than Harry. Sucking in several deep and shaky breaths neither Harry nor Snape moved, slowly ever so slowly the pain ebbed away from Harry's stomach and the icy clutch around his heart was releasing. After what seemed like an hour had passed Harry was still awake but was much calmer. His face was still pinched clenching his jaw, but he had taken off his glasses and wrapped his arms around himself resolutely closing his eyes. He was still laying on top of the bed covers but had no inclination of climbing under them. Another hour must have passed by before Harry's mind was starting to fall into blessed sleep when Snape shifted his position on the bed. He stood up with a barely audible sigh, pulled back some of the covers and eased himself into the bed. Noticeably trying to make as little movement as he could Snape stretched himself out along the length of the bed and lay as far away from Harry as possible.
The next two days passed exactly the same as the first. Not speaking more than two words to each other all day and grudgingly following their routine of passing every moment in each others company. They only left the room to go the short distance down the hall several times a day, then promptly returned before they hand a chance to run into anybody. Snape began to routinely start pacing the length of the room, sometimes muttering to himself under his breath. Sometimes Harry, so bored and restricted in activity watched Snape's greasy head move back and forth across the room. Snape rarely looked at Harry, if their eyes met Snape would simple look away while Harry would scowl. The days passed in the tense silence but every night was the same scenario. Harry would lay awake frozen in bed, over the covers and feigning sleep until Snape sat down. He would remain quite still only speaking in short clipped tones, "Clear your mind" "Clam yourself" "Stop thinking Potter!" Until finally Snape would get into the bed and sleep would overcome them.
It was during the mid-afternoon on the fourth day that things began to change. The tension in the room was palpable, both Harry and Snape were itching to free themselves from one another and each annoyance seemed to set them off. Harry would set a book aside too loudly which would cause Snape to viciously snap at him, which would in turn infuriate Harry so he would slam the book down harder. At one point as things between Snape and Harry began to really flare Harry swiped his arm across the top of his desk sending all of the books crashing to the ground. "I can't stay in this room another minute!"
"Don't force me to dose you Potter." Snape seethed and he stood leaning over his desk towards Harry, his palms flat against the desks surface. "You know you cannot go out!"
"Like you have problems forcing me!" Harry yelled back storming over his trunk and throwing the lid open. "Like you have any problems telling me what to do!" A harsh laugh escaped Harry sounding more like a bark. Not really looking for anything in his trunk, Harry slammed the lid shut again and in a moment of anger that had to be physically expressed, he grabbed the sides of the trunk and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. Harry had regained most of his strength since Snape had been back, and the trunk itself was mostly empty except for an old cauldron and some bits of trash at the bottom. The trunk flew into the wall with more force than Harry had meant and broke into it leaving the inner construction exposed.
Anger filled Harry quickly and more intensely and he swung around to face Snape who had stormed out from around his desk so they were only a foot apart. "Reparo" Snape pointed his wand and the wall and Harry's trunk was forced out of it as pieces of dry wall sprang up into their previous positions. Snape stepped towards Harry so they were nose to nose, he grabbed fistfuls of the front of Harry's shirt and pulled him close, his greasy hooked nose was only inches from Harry's. "Control. Yourself. Potter" Snape growled through clenched teeth and shaking Harry with each word, but the anger inside Harry was welling up and pressing on him like a dam about to burst.
Harry's hands reached without thought and closed around Snape's neck. He was seeing red and squeezing with all of his might, shaking in fury and concentration. Snape's mouth opened and closed a few times noiselessly as he released the front of Harry's shirt and instead grabbed his wrists. Almost too easily Snape pulled Harry's hands away from his neck, leaving long, angry red marks where Harry had dug his fingers in trying to hold on. Snape was angrier than Harry had ever seen him before, his hands were shaking so badly that Harry's own fist knocked into his face, cracking his glasses and punching his own nose. Harry's anger seemed to match Snape's, red-hot boiling inside him, Harry opened his mouth at the same time as Snape's did but Harry's words caught in his throat and instead they screamed. Their voices mingling together in such agony that it would have made the coldest man feel pity.
Harry and Snape fell to their knees as Harry's scar ripped his forehead apart. Still inches away from each other. Snape started to push Harry away from him but it was too late they were falling and the sounds of their screams faded in to the distant background. Harry was circling around three kneeled figures like a predator surveying its prey. A high cold laugh emanated deep from Harry's chest and he stopped in front of the figures. "I have been betrayed," he stated coldly.
"My Lord, please I have not betrayed you!" The first figure said groveling and sliding to his stomach in a posture of submission. "I have always been faithful!"
"Crucio!" Harry's voice range out around the room and mingled with the screaming of the first man, " crucio, crucio!" He said twice more and the other two figures fell began to twitch and scream. The second mans mask fell away from his face. Revealing to familiar characteristics of Kenji. A sudden movement with Harry's wand and the three men fell silent. Voldemort began pacing around them once more. But Harry's mind began to separate from Voldemort, words were becoming garbled once again and the scene began to change. Like Harry was floating up towards the ceiling. Time sped up, Harry watched immobile from above as the first two men were decimated and were strewn about the floor in bloody pieces.
Harry felt himself start to dip back towards Voldemort, but something was pulling at his mind. Frozen once again he watched as Voldemort bent, gripped Snape's arm and pulled him to his feet. Embracing him with one arm Harry thought for a fleeting second that Voldemort was going to forgive him, but in his other hand a long sliver object appeared poising to strike behind Snape's back.
A howling, foreign noise filled the hall before Voldemort could plunge the knife into Snape's back and Harry's vision was filled with red and green lights and the head of a man running into the hall.
Sucked back into his own mind with force Harry's head hit the floor with a sickening crack. Not two seconds later another similar sound was made and Harry lay panting as dark sporting danced in front of his eyes. There was no anger left in Harry he only he felt empty and cold. The spots grew larger and larger until Harry sank into oblivion.
Tilly found the pair crumpled on the floor and when Harry finally roused she was franticly bobbing around him. "Master Harry! Master Harry!" She cried shrilly, Harry groaned and pushed himself up. Half of Snape's body lay across his and slid with a dull thud to the floor. "Master Harry! I cannots let them in! You is hurt! Badly hurt, they is outside to help!" She was jumping and pointing towards the door, fat tears were falling down here face and had already soaked the dingy rags she wore.
Harry tried to respond, but only mumbles came out and a fresh wave of nausea hit him. The contents of his last meal poured out onto the floor as he retched. Tilly began to sob and quickly vanished the sick away, "Say I's can let them in! Master Harry I's cannot help you!" She was tugging at her pointy ears and continued jumping. The sight of her moving made Harry feel sick, but he managed a weak, "let them in." And the door to Harry's room burst open.
Madame Pomfrey threw herself into the room so fast that Tilly had to disapparate or be trampled by her. Her medic bag was already open and on the floor by the time Harry could register her appearance. Others were filing into the room around her but she spoke loudly before they could move much closer, "OUT, STAY OUT!" The others, shocked, stumbled back out of the room but hovered in the hallway beyond the door. "TILLY!" Pomfrey cried, "Give Harry this potion."
The house-elf was back by Harry's side and taking a vial from the nurse a few feet away. It was taking all of his energy to stay upright so Tilly had to tip the vial into Harry's mouth for him. A hot peppery liquid slid down his throat; the nausea and weakness fled in body and Harry sat up further, hunching over and clutching at his head. The Pepper-Up potion could only do so much for him, there was nothing beyond dreamless sleep that would stop the pain.
Pomfrey had slid a few feet away from him but continued to scrutinize Harry carefully. A muffled groan from Harry's other side said that Snape was regaining his senses. Harry didn't look as Pomfrey instructed Tilly to administer the same potion to Snape.
"Severus?" Pomfrey inquired after the Potions Master. "Severus-"
"I am well," He said gruffly. Snape tried to stand but stumbled and fell back to his knees, "No!" Motioning to Pomfrey to stay where she was, "I am well." Successfully standing this time Snape made his way to the potions cabinet and downed a vial of pale blue liquid. He pulled another vial of the same potion and moved back towards the still seated Harry. "We'll be fine, tell the Headmaster it was the same vision."
Pomfrey made noises of protests but surrendered in the end and backed out of the room with critical the red scratches around Snape's neck. The door shut firmly once more, Tilly disapparated, and Snape forced the vial into Harry's hands. His head felt clearer, fresh and though still aching, considerably better. Feeling stupid for remaining awkwardly on the floor Harry pushed himself up and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed while Snape leaning against his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"This isn't working." Snape said quietly, Harry didn't look at him but instead at his limp hands resting in his lap. "How Albus could ever-" he stopped himself from finishing and continued in a different direction. "The resistance to the bond is too great, and.." he trailed off again but Harry interjected this time.
"Well what did you think was going to happen?" Harry said still looking at his hands, "that I'd just take it, give in? You're the last person I'd ever... that I could possibly," Harry paused his face twisting like a very unpleasant taste had just filled his mouth, "care for," he finally spit out.
"Care for?" Snape repeated, then laughed out right. "That has nothing to do with the bond. It's not about love," Snape sneered at the word. "It's about magic, about power, and the binding and sharing of that power between two people."
"Then why isn't it working?" Harry demanded.
Snape hesitated before answering, "As much as I hate to admit it, we are much too similar." Harry practically snapped his neck turning to look at Snape, who looked as if the same awful taste in Harry's mouth was in his. The taste grew wretchedly stronger and the two wizards both grimaced. "Stop it!" Snape declared. "See what I mean?"
"NO!" Harry shouted back at him.
"Our reactions, our emotions, that we find hardest to keep in check around each other are too similar!" Snape's tone was self-loathing. "The drama we go through every night before bed, the anger we felt just moments ago, and this sickening taste in my mouth." Snape literally spat on the ground next to his feet and sneered again at Harry. "You detest this as much as I do Potter, you loathe me as much as I do you, and yet!" Snape began to shout, "and YET, HERE WE ARE!" gesturing around the room.
Harry sat dumbstruck staring at his hysterical Professor, but Snape's eyes rolled madly and he whipped around turning his back to Harry. Running a shaky hand threw his greasy hair Snape let out shuddering breaths. "If we don't figure something out, and soon, we are going to be...Stuck. In. Here." punctuating each word by banging the side of his fist on to the desk top, "Forever."
Starting at the back of Snape, his body radiating self-loathing, Harry couldn't help but say, "now who's being melodramatic?" and had to quickly duck as Snape threw his jar of quills at Harry's head.