"Severus, it's Harry. Something's happened. I'm at the Malfoy Manor. Please help." The letter is written in chunky, blocky letters. It's almost illegible with how bad his handwriting is, but it gets the point across.
He bypasses owls completely and instead goes to a room of the house he's not allowed in, Lucius and Narcissa's. It's covered in a thin layer of dust, no one has been upkeeping it or allowed in.
"Mippy," he says.
At once an old house elf appears before him. Narcissa's personal house elf, and still the matriarch of the house elves on the property. She's one of the more powerful elves in the Malfoy's employ.
"Masters Harry?" She asks, timidly, not used to people calling on her anymore.
He holds the letter out to her. "Can you please, please get this to Hogwarts." He begs her, unashamed.
"I don't know masters..." She trails off, turning the letter over in her hands. "It's very hard to apparate there."
"Please Mippy, I need this to get to the Headmistress or Professor Snape."
She frets with the letter for a little bit longer, looks up at Harry, then to a portrait of Narcissa Malfoy on the wall, then back to the letter. "Well, alright... I'll try my best but I don't know if I'll be able to."
Mippy leaves and Harry has no idea if she makes it to Hogwarts or not. He doesn't even know if she can apparate to Hogwarts. She makes it sound possible, so Harry at least holds out hope.
He has so much hope, in fact, that he starts packing. He can't let himself consider his decision for even a second. Sitting down will give him a chance to think, and get in his head. He has to keep moving.
His suitcase has only the essentials. Some clothes, his potions books, the invisibility cloak, Severus' mortar and pestle, and several more trinkets that he's worried about Draco having his hands on.
The last thing Harry places in the suitcase is the heavy black box with his wand in it. He still doesn't take it out, but he's not leaving it here.
After that, Harry goes down to the living room and paces. He counts at first, how many times he goes from one end of the foyer to the other, but he loses count around 78, huffs, and carries on unmetered.
I shouldn't leave, I shouldn't leave, I shouldn't leave plays through his mind to the beat of his footsteps. He's glad he acted so fast this morning, he can't take his plan out of motion now that it's happening.
Severus, I'm very sorry, I take it back, Harry.
That would go over well.
Harry is so zoned out in his thoughts that he jumps when he hears the Floo roar and someone stepping through. Draco. He swallows and looks around for a place to hide the suitcase.
"Harry?"
Harry's mind is calmed.
"Severus?"
There he is, standing at the door from the foyer to the sitting room. Of course he floo'd, his chambers and the Malfoy residence are surely connected.
Severus takes a step toward Harry and regards him gingerly. Harry steps toward him. Severus raises a hand up to Harry and Harry walks into a loose embrace. Severus is so gentle and careful not to touch Harry's bandaged arm but still makes all the tension run from Harry's shoulders with the intimacy of the hug.
"I want you out of here." Severus finally breaks them apart. He bats Harry's good hand away and grabs the suitcase for him.
"If you can apparate us both, I think I can break the wards." Harry's been considering this all morning. He's felt the wandless magic a few times and he's fairly certain with how angry he still is at Draco he can at least somewhat channel it.
Severus nods and grabs tightly to Harry's upper arm.
Harry closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths in and out. He tries not to think of anything in too many specifics, but he feels the emotions that he had last night and lets them course through his veins. Within moments there is a familiar electrifying energy surrounding him, crackling like a fire.
Harry grits his teeth, focuses, and gives Severus a nod.
The next instant, with a crack like a rifle shot, they're somewhere else.
Severus moves forward instantly to put the floo out.
"Hogwarts, Harry, we're at Hogwarts," Severus explains when he notices Harry looking around the room, his body slumping as he lets the magic leave him.
They make eye contact and Harry's eyes brim with tears. Haven't I done enough fucking crying?
"Is that okay? We can go back to my shop." Severus offers immediately and Harry quickly shakes his head.
"No, no, this is perfect." It really is, it's exactly what he's been wanting. "I'm just so overwhelmed."
Severus steadies a hand on Harry's shoulder and holds his upper arm, guiding him to sit gently on the plush green couch. It looks like the twin to the proud Victorian couch in Severus' potions lab. Harry is so shell-shocked that he lets himself be led.
Severus takes a seat next to him.
"What can I do, Harry?" He asks, so kindly and softly that it makes Harry sniffle.
"He found the letter you sent me." He doesn't know why he says it, it's cruel of him to put this on Severus. It's not even like Harry blames him, he just can't stop thinking about it. "And then he attacked me. It was bad. It was really, really bad."
It all comes out so quickly. Harry's words are wet and frantic toward the end. He's never said any of it out loud. Even if Severus knew, he didn't really know quite like this.
Severus doesn't speak for a moment. Harry looks at him. His mouth opens once, then closes. "Thank you for trusting me."
"I don't know what to do."
"You already did it. You left." Severus clarifies.
"Draco owns so much of me." He spits out.
"The courts will end your marriage, it'll be like it never happened."
"No," Harry says, bluntly. He looks back into Severus' eyes. "Severus, Draco had me declared unfit by a wizarding judge. I don't own my bank accounts and I haven't used my wand in over a year. The ministry can track all the magic on it." His voice feels dead.
Harry remembers signing the contract. Draco had taken care of everything, Harry never even saw the inside of a courtroom. One day he was making the biggest mistake of his life and the next Draco was making it all go away, all he needed was Harry's signature.
At the time he was glad to sign away his responsibilities. He didn't need magic because Draco would take care of him, plus he could go back to it whenever he wanted, Draco promised he would have the terms refined. He didn't need his bank accounts because Draco was an accounts manager anyway. 'It would probably just be wiser to have me in charge of them,' Harry remembers him saying, remembers agreeing so wholeheartedly.
"How?" Severus sputters. He never heard any such thing about Harry Potter, he figures that would have been one of the top headlines of the century.
Harry looks away.
"I'm sorry, you don't have to answer."
Harry scoots toward Severus and Severus puts his arm over the back of the couch, close to Harry's shoulders, but not touching. The subtle contact is reassuring.
"You left, that's what's important. Stay here, with me, or I'll find you somewhere else safe, as long as you need."
"Can I really stay here? Severus, I don't know how long it's going to take... I'm really nervous." The end comes out as more of a whisper, Harry is so embarrassed to say it, that he's scared.
Severus' hand on Harry's shoulder squeezes. "I mean it Harry, as long as you need. There's a spare bedroom, it's yours. I talked to Minerva before I left. She's fine with you being in the castle. You will have the password to my quarters and if you're up for it, you can sit at the head table during meals."
"Not yet," Harry protests immediately, tightness in his chest.
"No, of course not. You can have your meals here. You can come and go from these rooms, and the castle, as you please."
Again, Harry feels relaxed and safe. It's more than usual, but even so, there's still dread and doom in his stomach. The ball has to drop, he reasons. Maybe not soon, but it will.
Harry curls his legs up onto the couch, toeing his sneakers off onto the floor. He wraps his good arm around his legs and rests his chin on his knees. His other arm sits pathetically next to him. He can move it, but it hurts to flex the muscles.
They don't speak. Harry isn't sure how much time passes. He doesn't remember what time he left the manor. Early afternoon, one or two.
He thinks for a long time. The scene from this morning replays in his mind. It was twice that Draco violated him while he was asleep or unconscious, at his most vulnerable. He's so disgusted with himself for not fighting back harder, for just letting it happen, and for being so pliable. Self-loathing roils off of him and his mouth is set in a deep frown.
Harry shivers, a small, full body shake when the memory of the beater's bat on his arm plays through his head. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn't even consider how sick the feeling of his arm shattering had been last night. He wants the bandages off. Maybe Madame Pomfrey can heal it better than St. Mungos... but then I'd have to leave this room.
Hogwarts is inviting and safe, but Harry is too scared right now. He spies a clock sitting above the mantle. 4:28. Draco doesn't even know he's gone yet. Harry shivers again, then feels sick to his stomach.
Nausea slams into him and Harry lurches to his feet. "Ah, bathroom?" He asks Severus, quickly, as his mouth fills with warm, watery saliva.
Severus looks like he's been dozing off, but he opens his eyes quickly and points just behind the couch to a door.
Harry presses into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him, and expells his breakfast.
The first vomit only serves to make his nausea worse so Harry retches again, and again. His stomach contracting so forcefully that it brings tears to his eyes. He's on his knees, gripping the edges of the bowl and resting his tired forehead on his arm in between bouts.
Slowly, everything is pushed out until he's only retching with nothing coming up. Harry flushes the toilet but hovers over it still. Every few moments another tremor runs through his body. His abs hurt terribly from clenching them with the heavy bruising and he's left panting and covered in tears.
Finally, he sits back again the wall, still facing the toilet in case he's not done.
There's a gentle rapping on the door frame. Severus stands just out of sight, trying to give Harry privacy with the door open.
"You can come in," Harry pants out. He winces when he shifts his stomach again and clutches at his side. His eyes flutter.
Severus has water and a potion. "This will settle your stomach, but it doesn't taste pleasant," he warns, kneeling beside Harry in the small bathroom.
Harry downs the potion all in one, shooting it so he has to taste it as little as possible. Severus is right, it tastes horrible. Harry chugs the whole glass of water after that.
"I'm sorry. That was really gross."
Severus shakes his head. "That's alright, Harry."
They sit in silence again, Harry regaining his breath, Severus sitting on his haunches beside him.
Completely sure that he isn't going to throw up again, Harry tries to push himself up with his good arm. Severus immediately jumps in to help, bringing Harry gently to his feet.
"You don't have an extra toothbrush, do you?"
Severus turns to the sink and pulls the mirror open above it. He pulls out a new toothbrush, in its packaging, and hands it to Harry.
"Bringing a lot of, hah," Harry pants, his stomach cramping again, "hookups 'round Hogwarts?" He finally finishes, desperately trying to break the tense air. He needs levity right now, a distraction.
"Only you, Albus, and Minverva have ever been in my private quarters. And you're the only one I've let in willingly." Severus opens the toothbrush for Harry, sensing a potential problem with only one arm. He even spreads a blob of paste on it before handing it to Harry.
"You're such a gentleman, I find that hard to believe."
"My Hogwarts private quarters, Harry. I'm not in the business of bringing shags back to school." Severus clarifies, standing in the doorway of the bathroom now.
Harry has to pull the toothbrush out of his mouth and spit into the sink, or else he would have gotten it all over himself from laughing. "Blimey, Professor Snape just said shag." Harry groans in distaste.
"Do try not to make a mess, Potter." Severus drifts out of the doorway and Harry finishes brushing his teeth. He slots the toothbrush into a little cup that holds another, more well-used one. He kind of likes the look of their toothbrushes together.
He feels better, and more human after having a laugh and a clean mouth. Padding out of the bathroom he takes a better look at Severus' little apartment. The living room is small, just large enough for the couch, an armchair, and the fireplace. Behind the couch is the bathroom, and just down from the bathroom is a short hallway with three doors. On the other side of the bathroom is a moderately sized kitchen with a little table. It's charming and reminds Harry of Severus' London residence as well. Small, cozy. Not exactly what Harry would have expected from Severus- well, before. With how Harry knows the man now, it suits him very well.
"Your room is the first door on the left. Mine is at the end, study is on the right." Severus comes up behind Harry. "I'll put your bag in your room."
"Thank you, Severus."
Harry follows him into the room. There's a single full bed with a quilt that looks comfortable, a trunk at the end of the bed, and a dresser. The room feels cold, though, too clean, not lived in at all.
"Are you hungry?"
His stomach grumbles, Harry knows he should eat at least something. "A bit, yeah."
It's dinnertime now so Severus calls a house elf to bring them plates for dinner.
The clock says 5:46 now. Draco is probably home. Harry looks uneasily at the front door of the apartment and tries to calm himself. I'm on an island, in one of the most impenetrable wizarding buildings in existence, surrounded by powerful witches and wizards, and in the company of a man that I'm sure can handle Draco Malfoy. I'm safe.
I'm safe. He repeats it to himself several times as he takes a seat at the table.
I'm safe. He has to think again before he can eat.
Harry knows he's zoned out a bit again, but Severus doesn't comment, doesn't prod, just keeps him company while they eat.
Honestly, Harry does feel safe, but for some reason that only makes him even more nervous.
Nine o'clock finds Harry tucked away in his own room. He tried to postpone it for as long as he could, asking Severus about anything and everything he could think of. 'How are your classes?'; 'What's your plan for tomorrow?'; 'How's Minerva doing?'
Severus lasted longer than Harry would have thought, patiently answering all questions while they sat in front of the fire. Harry curled himself up in the armchair and Severus lazily held a book in his lap on the couch, paying more attention to Harry than his reading.
Eventually, though, Harry couldn't stop noticing Severus' little yawns and fluttering eyes. The man was stubborn and Harry ultimately had to be the one to call it a night.
They both linger in front of the doors to their rooms. Severus triple-checks that Harry knows where everything is (the apartment, while charming, is not very big, and there isn't much room for Harry to get lost) and then finally says goodnight.
Harry has slept in a bed completely alone once in recent memory, Severus'. He's gone to sleep alone of course, while Draco stayed up, but at some point, Harry always had someone else in bed with him.
He gets prepared robotically, going through all the motions that feel right, but there is an inescapable feeling of wrongness lingering over his very essence.
His bags are still strewn a little messily around the room, he hasn't bothered to put everything away in the dressers yet. For one because he hasn't had much time since arriving just hours ago, but for two because this still feels very impermanent.
I mean, I'm going to go back.
He shakes the thoughts out of his head and pulls at his hair, trying to draw himself back to the present.
Pajamas. I need to put pajamas on and go to bed.
So that's exactly what he does. He is glad that he had so long to pack and pulls out one of the few pairs of flannel pajama pants that he stowed away, and a large, thin sweater. It isn't until he has the shirt over his head that he realizes it's the one Severus gave him two months ago to walk back home. It feels like Severus has been in his life for so much longer. He has, technically, but not in this fashion. Not as Severus.
It takes Harry a while to get the sweater on. He again has to gently thread his arm through the sleeve. It's wrapped in a compressive gauze, Harry wonders how bad the cuts from the glass are under the bandage.
Pulling the quilt back on the bed, Harry feels a brief chill go through his spine, making him tremor a little. He goes back to the door to his room, there's no lock on it, no way for him to secure it, but he reminds himself that Severus' quarters as a whole are locked.
He finally gets in bed, sliding under the sheets and quilt and laying down as he typically would to fall asleep, glasses folded on the side table. He's on his side, one leg straight, the other with his knee brought up toward his stomach, facing the wall. And Draco on the other side of him, sleeping on his back.
Harry reaches to turn the bedside lamp on and looks behind him. No Draco.
"Get it together," he mumbles to himself and turns the light back off, laying back down.
Harry can't get the thought out of his mind though, that Draco is right behind him, so he turns over to face the other side of the bed, very uncomfortable with his bad arm. He has to rest half on his back. There, that ought to convince me.
He closes his eyes. It's not a gentle closing of them, he's forcing them shut, willing himself to go to sleep.
Every few minutes Harry opens one eye to peek. No Draco.
The night continues like that for a while: Harry forcing himself to shut his eyes, tossing and turning, keeping a watchful eye for an impossibility. When he catches sight of the clock in the room it's been just over an hour and a half.
Harry sits up in bed, rubs his eyes, and whispers to himself: "He's not here. He can't be here. I'm safe and need to go to bed." He repeats it three times in a row and actually does feel a bit better.
Laying down this time Harry feels the distinct sensation of slumber drawing at his mind. Eyes still forced closed, he drifts into a twilight quasi-sleep. His dreams become weaved with blearily blinking eyes. In one moment he's flying brooms with Ron and in the next he's rolling over again, pulling the blankets up to his chin. The dreams feel real, intersecting with reality.
There's a brief mirage of him and Cho Chang on a date. His eyes open when they kiss. Harry groans, wishing he could just fall asleep for real. Then Draco is there, in the bedroom with him.
Harry stares at him, almost like he's looking at a stranger or a distant acquaintance he doesn't quite remember the name of.
Draco is at the end of the bed and comes around to the side, holding a hand out to touch Harry. Harry reaches out to meet his hand.
In one moment Draco is standing beside him, in the next, Harry has his legs open and Draco is between them. There's no lube, but Draco is fucking him. It doesn't hurt, it feels like the other morning when he couldn't feel his lower half.
Draco reaches a hand up to choke Harry. Harry doesn't resist, just lay there. Draco squeezes tighter and tighter. Harry stares at him in rapture, eyes bulging slightly from the lack of oxygen.
As he blacks out, he wakes up.
Harry is sweating and still on his back as he had been in the dream, but there is no Draco. His door is closed. It's 1:30 in the morning.
He's breathing heavily and his eyes dart around. He pulls himself into a sitting position, then draws his knees up to his chest. He's shaking a little, not a lot, just enough to be noticeable. He rubs at the sweat on his forehead.
With the thought of violation fresh on his mind Harry doesn't know if he can get back to sleep.
He's exhausted, the reality-bending dreams offered almost no actual rest. His eyes droop as he leans back against the headboard. As soon as he starts to drift again his body forces him awake, looking for Draco.
Harry balls his good hand into a fist and harshly pounds it into the mattress. He brings his forearm up to his mouth, bites down on it, and lets out the loudest yell he dares, trying to muffle it as best he can.
Sleep given up on, Harry gets out of bed and turns on all the lights in the room.
He paces for a few minutes, but the room isn't big enough to really let off any steam, plus he doesn't want to bother Severus with his moving.
Severus. He hasn't forgotten about the man, but Harry feels very isolated in his room with the door shut.
His feet bring him to the door of his room and he slips out into the hallway/living room. To his left is Severus' room. The man must be asleep by now.
Harry is so tired that he's unsteady on his feet. He considers the couch for a few minutes but is afraid he would feel even more vulnerable with only one door between him and... What? He isn't sure. One door between him and an entire labyrinth of a school where he would also be completely safe.
He considers his options for a few minutes, taking a seat on the edge of the armchair. He can try and go to bed in his room, get as much sleep as he can, even if it's marred by nightmares; he can go to Hagrid's hut, at least then he'd been sleeping in the same room as someone and Hagrid's presence would probably be calming; or, Harry looks at the door down the hall, he can potentially embarrass himself by asking Severus to share a bed.
The man has done so much for me and now I'm going to invade his bed as well? Harry tries to convince himself not to, but he also has the distinct impression that Severus will let him. At least he won't hit me if I make him mad.
He knocks on Severus' door gently and finds that it's already ajar.
Severus is sleeping peacefully. He sleeps on his left side, blankets down around his waist, no shirt on, and hugging a pillow gently in his arms. His hair is loose around his face and neck. He snores very gently, almost soothingly, a reminder that he's there.
Harry doesn't know exactly how to wake the man up. Severus obviously has his own trauma that he's dealing with, Harry doesn't want to potentially frighten him.
So Harry sits on the side of Severus' bed opposite of him and leans over to gently nudge Severus' exposed shoulder. "Sev?" Harry asks, quietly again.
He wakes, blinking slowly.
"Harry?" He asks, sleep clear in his voice. He pushes himself up on one hand, looking up at Harry. Severus' hair falls across his face and he shifts, freeing his other hand to tuck it behind his ear. "Are you alright?"
"I'm so sorry to wake you, it's just, I couldn't sleep..." He trails off, unsure how to explain himself. "I'm just so, uh," it's hard to say it out loud, he's been so vulnerable with Severus, "Scared. I'm really scared. I don't think I can sleep alone."
Severus sits all the way up and sets the pillow he'd been wrapped around back up against the headboard. "You sleep here. I can transfigure something, but I'll stay in the room."
"No, I can't kick you out of your bed." Harry protests. Severus is already getting out of bed and pulling the covers back for Harry.
Harry feels the anxiety steam out of his body at the sight of Severus in low-slung pajama pants and nothing else. Jesus I've been out of Draco's house for less than a day and I'm already eying up someone new? But the distraction is nice. Harry can be focused on Severus' surprisingly trim and toned physique instead of his horrible nightmares for a few minutes. And chest hair, the chest hair is nice.
"It's really alright." He stretches his arms above his head, Harry hears his joints crack and pop as he walks around to the side of the bed Harry is standing on, there's more room there for him to transfigure something, a cot or a sofa, something small.
Harry is still half-sitting on the bed. He reaches out a hand and puts it on Severus' bicep, getting his attention and pausing him for a moment. "Sev, we can share, I won't take up too much space. Please, I can't make you leave your bed" again.
Severus' eyes first go down to Harry's hand on his bare arm, then to the shirt that Harry's wearing, then up to Harry's eyes. They both have deadly serious looks. Severus nods and steps back, breaking the contact between them. He looks like he wants to say something, even opens his mouth, but doesn't, and retreats back to his side of the bed.
It's a large bed, bigger than the one in Harry's room, so they both fit on it easily.
Harry scooches himself to the furthest edge, getting comfortable with his arm. Severus has moved a few inches closer to the edge on his side but isn't trying to make it obvious.
Harry faces away from Severus, it's the only direction he can comfortably face with his arm.
They don't say anything else.
At first, Harry is still anxious. He can feel Severus' presence behind him, but he can't see the man, so in his nightmares, it could be Draco. The feelings are abated when Harry clearly hears Severus drift to sleep, and he resumes his small, barely audible snores.
It's Severus, no doubt about it.
Anxiety washed away, Harry falls into a (mostly) dreamless sleep.
