Chapter 24
"Harry!"
Harry sat bolt upright as someone shook his shoulder roughly. And regretted it immediately. His body shrieked its protest at him. Ron was next to his bed, hopping from foot to foot as he put a shoe on, his shirt buttoned wrong so that it sat hopelessly skew on his narrow frame.
"Hurry up mate, we've already missed breakfast." Harry got up gingerly, wincing as his sore muscles stretched. He was so tired. Despite his exhaustion the night before, he'd hardly slept. He kept having visions. He knew he aught to have gone to tell Dumbledore but they were incoherent and he had simply been too exhausted. It was Tuesday, that meant Charms first. He really needed to shower after the previous night's session. There wasn't enough time though; he'd have to go without. He hurriedly shrugged on a clean shirt and pulled his robes over his head, trying to ignore how his back muscles protested the movement.
"Why didn't anyone else wake us?" Harry asked, forcing his feet into his shoes as he grabbed a tie out his trunk, and proceeding to half run out the door with Ron just behind.
"Dunno, guess they thought we were already awake." Ron said, swearing under his breathe as he tripped over his undone laces.
"And Hermione? Surely she realised before she went down to breakfast?" Harry asked as they climbed out the portrait.
"Uh" Ron looked down.
"What?"
"We got into it again last night." Ron said uncomfortably. They were jogging down the stairs, aware of how late they were by the lack of people in the hallways. Harry was trying to ignore the stiffness. But every stretch and pull of his muscles sent bolts of pain up his legs.
"About?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.
"Just the usual, you know lik-"
"It was about me, wasn't it?" Harry stopped abruptly, wincing. Ron skidded to a halt and looked at him.
"Yeah." Ron said it awkwardly, like he was apologising. "She's worried Harry and well, I am to." The red head looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "Its just you've been so…"
"I'm trying, Ron." Harry said quietly, looking up at him. He was trying to put the fatigue in his mind aside. His scar twinged unpleasantly as he spoke. He reached up, tracing over it with his finger. His head was starting to buzz uncomfortably.
"I know." The redhead glanced at his watch. "We are so late. Come on." He frowned when Harry grimaced as they started walking again. "You alright?"
"Yeah, just stiff." They reached they door and tried to slip in quietly.
...
Severus watched the 6th years troop out of his classroom. He had lectured them on theory for the full lesson. He didn't have the strength to watch Draco or any of the other students to ensure they weren't trying to kill each other.
Potter had sat through the entire lecture slumped at his desk, one hand over his forehead as he rested his head on his palm. When he had lifted his hand away Severus saw that his scar was red against his pale, drawn skin. He was so tired in fact, that Severus managed to give him a detention for not concentrating in class when he failed to answer a, perhaps unreasonably difficult, question. The other gryffindors had turned to look at him reproachfully.
He reached for his migraine potion out of the drawer and took a generous swig before getting up to join the rest of the school for lunch.
/\/\/\/\/\
Harry was in a foul mood. He was tired, stiff and sore, his scar was throbbing abominably and he had received detention from Snape for not knowing the answer to a ridiculously hard question. Although he knew it was just an excuse for their occlumency lessons, the rest of his peers did not, and they rather thought he was letting the house down by receiving so many detentions so early in the year. And to cap it all off, Ron and Hermione refused to even look at each other which made sitting between difficult and irritating.
He stabbed his fork into his stew, putting it in his mouth only because he didn't want anyone breathing down his neck for not eating properly.
"Harry?"
"What?" He snapped. He looked up to see Ginny's surprised and hurt look.
"I just asked if you could pass the mustard." She said, a bit alarmed.
"Sorry," He muttered, feeling even worse. He passed the offending jar. "Here you go."
"Thanks."
The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. Harry stood with the rest of the table, joining the mass of students hurrying to get to the afternoon lesson. They had double Transfigurations. He quite frankly didn't know how he was going to get through it. But nonetheless he walked down the hallway with the rest of the class, hoping that it would not be as bad as it seemed.
...
Harry slipped into the Potions classroom without knocking. He had mistakenly left his map in the tower with his bag. Hr assumed Snape must be with the other teachers at dinner. He closed the door behind him and slid into one of the desks, grateful to take his weight off his sore legs. His scar throbbed angrily. He rubbed tiredly at it.
Ron had finally badgered him about his wincing enough that he told them that the Potions Master was teaching him combat. Now they were both mad at him for not mentioning it sooner. Which had irritated him enough that he snapped back at them. So instead of sitting through an entire meal of antagonistic silence and reproach, he'd skipped it, stopping only long enough to ask Ginny to tell her brother. He hadn't planned on going straight to this room but the memory of Malfoy jumping him the previous week still stung enough to make him feel uncomfortable walking around without knowing where everyone was. So he'd made his way to Snape's classroom, checking around every corner with his wand in hand.
He laid his head on the desk, resting it on his arms. Everything hurt and the fatigue that had shadowed him all day felt like it was weighing his limbs down with lead. He would rest until it was time for his lesson…
"What, Potter, are you doing in my classroom?" The voice demanded coldly.
Harry jerked upright, knocking his elbow on the table as he fumbled for his wand. He stopped himself when he realised it was Snape, trying to quell the sudden panic that the man's voice brought. He hadn't heard him come in. He berated himself, aware that he had fallen asleep in the few moments he had closed his eyes.
Snape stood in front of the desk he sat at, arms folded, looking down on him imperiously.
"I-I I-"
/\/\/\/\/\
Severus sat at the Head table, grimacing as the emotions of everyone in the Hall washed over him. He speared a carrot rather more forcefully then was really justified, putting the offending root in his mouth with a scowl. He stopped as the monitoring charm he placed on his classroom chimed in his head, indicating someone was there.
"Excuse me." He murmured to his colleagues who were half way through a discussion on essay marking. He hadn't dained to mention his feelings on the subject.
His eyes swept over the Hall as he glided down the outer aisle, landing on the Gryffindor table were Potter was conspicuously absent between the Weasley boy and Granger. His eyes darted across the Slytherin table, quickly checking that Draco was sitting there.
He swept out the Hall and down the stairs that led through the dungeons, walking straight to his classroom. Although he already suspected who was in there, there was always the chance that it was one of the other students trying to pilfer ingredients. Woe betide them if it was he that caught them.
He opened the door silently and closed it behind himself. There, as he had suspected, head on arms at one of the desk, was Potter, apparently asleep. He strode towards the back, stopping a little way from it.
"What, Potter, are you doing in my classroom?"
The boy jumped at his voice, scrambling to get his wand out, suddenly halting as he looked up and saw him. The boy's sudden panic washed over him in a cold wave. Severus internally berated himself for his irritability. It was not a good way to start.
"I-I I-"
"Potter." He said sharply, cutting the boy off from his incoherent stammering.
The boy stop, then took a breath. "W-waiting s-sir."
"You did not think to do so in the Great Hall rather than gracing my classroom with your presence?" He asked tartly.
The teen looked down, "I didn't w-want to be with everyone else."
/\/\/\\
"Why, pray tell, could you not avoid them elsewhere?" Snape asked, one eyebrow arched, seemingly uninterested as to why. Harry was grateful. He didn't want to explain his social life to his teacher.
Nonetheless his cheeks burned, feeling embarrassed to admit the reason. "I didn't want to run into anyone like last week." He said, looking at the floor. The man would, no doubt, think him afraid again.
"It appears that you are not as brainless as you seem, Potter." Snape said, apparently brushing it aside. "However you should not be skipping meals." Harry could feel the man looking over him intensely. "Seeing as we are both here, we may as well begin. Combat again tonight."
"Y-yes sir." Harry grimaced at the thought. His sore body was going to make it even harder than usual. He felt the man's appraising look again. He slowly reached over his head and pulled off his amulet. He still felt wrong without it. But he wasn't going to raise Snape's ire more over it. He pulled his robe off as well, throwing it over a desk as he stood awkwardly. He felt the man's eyes again, and tried not to squirm.
Snape had already conjured the boxing bag from the previous lesson. He instructed him to begin with the same routine. Harry gritted his teeth and did as he was told, trying to ignore the protest of his muscles at the vigorous movements. The man stood and watched. It made Harry nervous to be the object of such scrutiny.
"Potter." There was something ominous about Snape's voice that stopped him dead.
"Y-yes, sir?" Harry stayed the irrational impulse to start backing away. His limbs were burning.
/\/\\\/\
Severus watched Potter get up and move to the bag he had spelled. The boy moved overly carefully, taking his stance. Severus instructed him to start with the previous routine. He stood and watched. Harry was definitely not moving right. There had been something off about him the whole day. Severus held his irritation in check. Had Draco had another go at the boy? Surely he would have found out...
"Potter." If he hadn't been so annoyed he would have found it amusing how one word made the boy freeze.
"Y-yes, sir?"
"Did I or did I not specifically tell you to tell me if you were hurt?"
"I-I-I'm not hurt, sir." The boy's eyes were wide. Severus could see that Potter was doing his best not to back down. He crossed his arms, eyes boring into him. The boy fidgeted uncomfortably.
"I'm just stiff, sir." He mumbled, looking down.
Stiff? Severus relaxed, relieved. If Draco had been responsible he would have been in a very difficult position. He was still annoyed the boy hadn't said anything.
"Potter, I will not remind you of the condition I set out again. If you will not cooperate with me then you will leave me no choice." He spoke more harshly than he intended. The boy flinched back at the tone. But despite the anxiety his voice caused, Potter looked up defiantly, brisling angrily under the tone. But before the boy could retort, a silvery shadow shot into the room, startling them both.
"Death Eaters attacking the south wall." Lupin's voice sounded coolly before the patronus evaporated, leaving them both staring at where it had been.
Severus withdrew his wand, but the fired flared green before he had the chance to flick his wrist. Albus' head floated eerily in the flames. He moved to the fireplace, casually blocking the Headmaster's view of his classroom, and more specifically, of Potter. He could hear the boy scrambling to get his amulet on.
"Severus." The man sounded maddeningly calm although Severus could see his frown in the flickering blaze.
"I've just received the message, Headmaster."
"They are attacking the south most point. No doubt they think we may have neglected the furtherest wards. It will not be long before they move up to Hogsmead." Severus could almost see that the man had his fingers steeped in front of him.
"Your orders?"
"The students are being settled in the Great Hall as we speak. I have set Remus and Minerva to watch those who you felt may use such an opportunity. The other teachers will be with me on the battlements and trying to get the villagers inside the grounds."
"I will join you shortl-"
"No," Dumbledore cut him off. "Is Harry with you?"
"Yes, Headmaster."
"I think it best that he stays in your rooms tonight. That way we will avoid any chance of the faction of students taking an opportunity and avoid you being put into a situation where you will have to reveal your allegiance."
"Yes, Headmaster." Severus bowed his head. He saw the sense in the plan. It still burned to have to sit back and hide indoors while others risked themselves. He also understood that Albus was entrusting Potter's care to him.
"Do not leave your rooms until I come for you." With that the fire extinguished.
Severus looked up at the boy, who was watching him with wide, uncertain eyes.
/\/\/\\\/\
"Come, Potter." Snape said impassively, sweeping towards the door to his office.
Harry picked up his robes, hurrying after the man. His stomach twisted nervously. He followed Snape into his office, wandering where they would go from there. As far as he could remember there were no other doors in the room. Snape walked to the back wall and placed his hand on it. After a moment Harry felt a slight change in the atmosphere of the room and a dark wooden door appeared. It must have been the wards on Snape's chambers, he realised.
He followed the man through tentatively, the door closing shut behind him. His stomach kept twisting. He didn't like it at all.
They walked into a sitting room type area. There was a couch and two armchairs arranged around a fireplace with a coffee table, and a passage leading off to one side. Through an open doorway he could see a kitchen. That struck Harry as odd: he had always assumed teachers got whatever they needed from the Kitchens. In fact the whole place struck him as odd. He wouldn't have thought that Snape's rooms would be so... normal.
"I haven't got a spare bedroom, Potter, so the couch will have to do."
"T-thank you, sir." Harry stood awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing what to do.
"You said you were stiff?" Snape asked him, eyebrow arched. The question threw Harry slightly.
"Y-yes sir."
"I suggest you go through your movement patterns. It will help loosen your muscles." Snape flicked his wand, and one of the armchairs shifted back against the wall, leaving enough space.
"Thank-you, sir." Harry said, standing by the couch uncertainly.
The man swept out through the passage, leaving him alone in the room. Harry draped his robe over the arm of the couch, and then moved into the open space. His hand moved up to the stone pendent but he didn't take it off. He had no intention of doing so unless Snape made him. The Headmaster or anyone else could show up at any moment and it wasn't something he was going to risk, even if it meant making the Potion Master angry.
Still Harry eyed the passage anxiously. However reasonable it sounded, it still made him edgy; he was disobeying the man.
Taking a deep breath he pushed the thought aside, trying at the same time to relax his tense muscles. He slowly started going through the movement patterns, trying to focus on them. It was difficult. He felt out of place and kept checking the passage Snape had gone down. After ten minutes he gave up. He couldn't get into rhythm. He was worried about what was happening. His scar started to throb again. He realised Hermione and Ron were probably freaking out because they didn't know where he was. He sat on the couch, staring blankly into the fireplace. His stomach growled loudly in the silence, demanding the dinner he had missed. He wasn't going to ask his professor for food. An idea popped into his head.
He walked to the fireplace, eye's scanning the mantle. Sure enough, in a small china pot on the end, there was the fine green powder he had hoped to find. Taking a small pinch and kneeling, and glancing anxiously over his shoulder, he threw it into the flames. Instantly the fire flashed green. He muttered 'kitchens' into the flames, leaning his head into the heatless emerald blaze. It still felt odd to him, the cool sensation and the sudden view of the kitchens that accompanied the action.
"Excuse me?" He said politely, as he watched the elves scurrying around the big stone room. One stopped what he was doing, which seemed to be warming water in a big pan above Harry's head.
/\/\/\/\/\
Severus stood in the doorway of the kitchen listening as Potter quietly murmured into the fire place, and with a few seconds later a tray of food appeared. Trust the boy to know how to bend the rules. Although, he was glad that the boy was hungry enough to want to eat. That at least was an improvement. He picked up his tumbler of whiskey that he had poured and walked in quietly as Potter sat eating. The teen had a pinched expression, his scar vividly red against his pale complexion, more so than it had been earlier in the day.
He placed the tumbler on the side table and sat in his armchair, as Potter glanced up, realising he was there with a start. The boy flushed, glancing guilty at the tray.
"That is how you managed to break into my stores, isn't it Potter?" He asked calmly. It actually amused more than irritated him that he hadn't realised sooner. Anyone else would have set off the monitoring charm or his wards. No one would have thought a house elf to be the offending party.
The boy blanched. "Please sir, it was my fault, I asked him to help me, I-I-"
"Calm down, Potter." He said coolly.
The boy looked up uncertainly, half afraid. He took a deep breath, "I-if you need to punish someone, sir, please p-punish me and not Dob-the house elf. H-he was only t-trying to help me."
"I'm not going to punish you or him, Potter." Severus spoke quietly but sternly. "Do not do it again. If you need help, you will come to me and ask me. Do I make myself clear?" He let a little menace slip into the last sentence.
"Y-yes, sir." Potter said, looking down and almost pressing himself back into the couch cushions.
Severus reached for the tumbler, taking a sip. He felt edgy not knowing what was going on outside. He knew it was unlikely that the Death Eaters would breach the walls of the castle. It was too strongly protected. He noticed Potter staring at his glass with a stricken look. He put the glass down slowly. The boy's eyes followed.
"Are you finding it easier to eat?" He asked, trying to discern why it was worrying Potter. The boy flinched, then seemed to catch himself.
"Y-yes, sir."
"Have you thrown up again since the incident in the bathrooms?" Severus questioned, watching carefully.
"No, sir"
"Have you used the Brenson's Brew since?"
The boy shook his head. Severus wasn't sure why the teen was suddenly so forthcoming. Usually it was a fight to get any information out of him. He could see Potter was uncomfortable, although he assumed that it was to do with being in his chambers.
"S-sir?" Severus looked up at the hesitant question. "Why does Professor Dumbledore think that its better I don't stay with all the other students? Is the hall not safe?"
/\/\/\/\
Harry forced himself to sit still and not tense up further. It didn't matter that Snape was drinking. The man wasn't going to hurt him. He wasn't going to let the man hurt him. And he wasn't going to let the man know how uneasy the smell of the alcohol made him. He was going to be strong. He forced himself to ask the question that was plaguing him.
"S-sir?" Snape looked at him as he spoke. "Why does Professor Dumbledore think that its better I don't stay with all the other students? Is the hall not safe?"
"It's perfectly safe for the students, Potter. It is not, however, safe for you." The man answered.
"Why?"
Snape raised an eyebrow, his lips twisting mockingly. "Potter, do not be dull witted. Surely you can think of a reason after all that happened last week?"
"But-" The man looked at him unmoved, "Professor Dumbledore mentioned a faction of students. Surely-"
"Surely what, Potter?"
"I know Malfoy has had it in for me, sir. But there aren't others? I-"
\/\/\/\/\
Severus cut the boy off. "Potter, you are the Dark Lord's most hated symbol. The only person to have ever given any hope of his defeat besides the Headmaster. Anyone who wished to join the Dark Lord would be welcomed with open arms if they were to present you as a prize."
"Malfoy is trying to take me to Voldemort?" Potter asked nonpussed. Severus caught himself before he hissed at the name.
"Mr Malfoy thinks he will bring honour to his family name, by taking you to him, yes."
"And there are others?"
He nodded. Potter should have been able to work this out on his own. But nonetheless, it was better that the boy understood the situation. The boy looked down fretfully, fidgeting with his hands.
"Ask Potter." Severus said wearily.
"Ron and Hermione don't know I'm here, sir."
"And?" Severus asked, trying not to sound disparaging.
Potter faltered, "They'll worry and I-"
"Out with it, Potter."
"Is it p-possible to ask Professor McGonagall to tell them I'm safe?"
Severus stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Gryffindors. Really a terribly emotional lot. But Potter was talking to him, and managing to keep some semblance of calm. Maybe it was the beginnings of some sort of trust. Maybe.
"I'll tell her you are here, Potter. She will do what she sees fit with the information."
"T-thank you, sir."
Severus stood, ignoring how the boy cringed. With his wand he conjured a blanket and pillow, dropping them on the couch. He did not pick up the tumbler from the table.
"I will be in my office, Potter."
"Thank you." The boy repeated, looking at him uncertainly.
/\/\\/\\/\
Snape left him alone again. Harry sat and finished what he could of the meal, not caring that it was mostly cold. When he was finished, he took his shoes off and lay down on the couch, wishing he had bought his bag. At least then he could have distracted himself with homework, and get his mind off what was going on outside. The man had left his smoking glass on the table. The smell lingered. It set Harry even more on edge. He debated whether the man would get angry if he put it in the kitchen. He decided to risk it. He got up quietly, glancing guiltily at the door the man had gone through, sure that the man wouldn't like him wandering around. He took the glass gingerly and hurriedly went to the kitchen, putting it down on the first counter and quickly returned to the couch. He pulled the blanket over himself, staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to sleep. He felt…exposed, being in such an unfamiliar setting in threatening circumstances. He was so tired though. Exhaustion weighed on him heavily, making it hard to think straight now that all the excitement had passed. It was going to be a long night…
...
Severus started abruptly, his legs swing off the bed, and was out of his room before he even fully understood what noise had woken him. He walked through to the sitting room. It was Potter. The boy was curled into a ball, pressed as far into the corner of the couch as possible and muttering in his sleep. He could couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard Black's name. Potter cried out unintelligibly again, arms crossed over his chest protectively. The atmosphere in the room was dark. The boy was having a nightmare.
Severus stood indecisively, not sure whether or not to intervene. He personally would hate the idea of someone watching him in such an intimate display of emotion. But then Potter was not him. He leant over and shook the boy awake by the shoulder. Potter woke with a jerk, hands flying up to his face, a whimper escaping his lips. Squinting at him in the dark, his eyes widened and he pressed back even further, trying to escape. It took a moment for the teen to realise what was happening.
"S-sorry s-s-sir," The boy stammered, not lowering his arms.
Severus muttered at him to clear his mind and went back to bed. At least he tried. The cold, threatening emotion of the boy's dreams seemed to creep insidiously into his own room. He strengthened his own mental shield and went back to sleep. An hour later he woke to screaming. Potter again. The boy was tangled in the blanket, crying something out loud that he couldn't discern and fighting to escape the covers. He tried to reach over as he had earlier but the teen has thrashing about too much. After a moment's hesitation he sat on the edge of the couch and grabbed the blanket, using it to hold the boy down. Wrestling to keep the boy pinned, he shook his shoulder, trying to wake him.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
The dream changed. He wasn't running, he was being held down. He couldn't move, couldn't get away. He struggled frantically, trying desperately to escape the restraints. Someone was moving around him but he couldn't see. He knew, with absolute certainty what was about to happen, but he couldn't get free. A hand reached out and grabbed him-
He woke up suddenly with a gasp, terror making his heart pound frenziedly in his ears, and realised it wasn't a dream. He was being held down. He couldn't move. Someone was touching him. Panic flooded him, as he twisted, trying to free his arms, struggling desperately. Abruptly whatever has holding him gave way, but just as quickly hands wrapped around his wrists...
/\/\/\\/\/
The boy woke, fear washing over Severus as he shook Potter's shoulder. But instead of calming down, the teen seemed to go into full panic, fighting wildly.
"N-no! Let g-go, le-" The boy was half sobbing, half shouting as he struggled.
"Potter, stop." Severus commanded, but the boy didn't seem to be rational enough to understand. He should have just left the boy alone. The child was more frightened now then he had been about whatever he was dreaming about. Severus relaxed the blanket so the teen was no longer pinned, instead catching hold of the boy's wrists, in the hope it would stop his panic. It didn't.
"Potter." He said firmly, having to use his weight to keep the boy held down. "Stop fighting, Potter."
/\/\/\/\/\
It couldn't be happening, it couldn't, not here, not… The realisation began to sink in. He heard his name, and the panic began to subside. But he was being held down, he wa-
"Stop fighting, Potter." Cold comprehension hit Harry. He was in Snape's chambers. It was Snape who was holding him down. He had been dreaming. Had he said anything? He knew he spoke in his sleep sometimes. Then he realised he'd woken the man up again, and the panic nearly took hold again. He forced himself to stop struggling, desperately trying to calm himself. He didn't want to anger the man more, he…
/\/\/\\/\\
Severus let go of the boy's wrists as soon as he stopped fighting, aware that Potter did not like being touched. The teen was breathing raggedly, fear bubbling just below the surface, squinting to see him.
He looked round and saw the teen's glasses on the table and leant over to get them. Potter flinched as he handed them to him. Severus stood, ignoring how the boy cringed, and muttered a charm to switch the lights on. The teen was watching him, shaking and pale.
"Do you often have nightmares, Potter?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even and quiet. The boy looked down and nodded slowly. He was ashamed. Severus wondered why. Potter had seen and dealt with a great deal more than most boys his age, and even more than some adults. And why was the boy still afraid? Severus had assumed that it was the emotional aftermath of his dream, but that should have passed by now. He decided not to ask the boy what they were about. The child was too flighty as it was.
"Calm your mind before you go back to sleep." The boy nodded, eyes wide.
He got up and walked back down the passage, passing the door to his room. He doubted he was going to get any more sleep between Potter's emotions and his own frustration in waiting to hear what was going on outside. He opened the door to his study and took a Potions journal from the bookcase. He padded back to his room, prodded the fire in the grate with his wand for more warmth, and sat down to read.
/\/\/\/\\
Harry propped himself up against the arm of the couch, struggling to even his breathing. He had to be quiet. He had already woken Snape up twice; if he did it again there would surely be hell to pay. The thought started his hands shaking again. Angrily he clutched the blanket.
Why was he losing control like this? But he already knew why. It had been almost three months back at Hogwarts. In the dorm it didn't matter if he woke screaming. The others were used to it. And he could always lie to them about it. It hadn't even occurred to him that he should worry about it earlier. He was so stupid. But still, being woken to find that he was being held… Harry's insides turned to ice at the thought. He had thought the man was going to, to-
He shook his head to stop thinking, and sat up further, trying to make himself uncomfortable so he wouldn't nod off. It was something he had had to do often before. The man hadn't liked being woken in the middle of the night because Harry couldn't keep his mouth shut. And Harry had learnt the consequences. He rocked himself, hitting his back softly against arm, with his arms wrapped around his knees. He would stay awake, then he wouldn't be able to dream…
/\\/\/\/\
Severus was half way through the journal when the screaming started again. But this time it was different. Something was wrong. He walked quickly through to the lounge, edgy, trying to understand what it was.
Potter must have fallen off the couch, and was now thrashing about on the floor between it and the table. No, not thrashing, so much as convulsing. His eyes were rolling in his head as he screamed wordlessly, his arms and legs beating and kicking wildly.
As he saw, he felt. It hit him like a wall. Pain, and fear, and crazed hatred and anger swirled viscously around the room. But it was wrong. He knew what Potter's mind felt like. It wasn't this. For a second he stood watching, surprised, trying to understand.
The penny dropped. Potter was having a vision.
He moved immediately, muttering the light charm automatically. He pushed the table away and knelt down, pausing only for a moment to steel his own mental shield against the emotional onslaught. He grabbed Potter's shoulders, forcing them down before the teen really did hurt himself. Pinning him between his arm and the floor, Severus shook his shoulder roughly, "Wake up, Potter."
He got no response. The boy continued writhing, sounds ripping from his throat as the emotions raged around him. His head lolled back, only the whites of his eyes visible. His scar stood a stark crimson against his pale face. Severus could see that it was bleeding around its edges. He shook Potter again and called his name to no effect. Minerva had said that they had shouted and shook Potter for a long while, the previous year…
Potter gasped suddenly, breaking Severus thoughts, the boy's arms immediately trying to push him back as he struggled to roll away. Severus let go, moving back. He really didn't want the teen to panic further.
"Potter." He said firmly
/\/\/\/\/\\
Harry watched as the young man, little more than a teenager, screamed in agony and writhed helplessly on the bloody floor. He could feel the pain in his own body, suddenly realising that they were his screams…
He gasped as the vision left him, only to realise that something was holding him down, shaking roughly at him. He tried to shove it away and turn, the sudden realisation that someone was holding him down… But the hands let go. He rolled, only to hit something solid-
"Potter." The cold voice said harshly. Harry froze. Memory started to return, and with it the panic. He'd woken the man again. With a vision. He wasn't suppose to have them anymore, Snape was going to be even madder, he-
He forced himself to take a breath, pressing his forehead against the couch. He breathed again, trying to gain control over the icy panic and fear that were forcing the air from his chest. He felt the man stand. He fought the urge to cringe and roll into a ball. He forced a whimper back down his throat before it could escape. There was a quiet rustle of cloth and a soft creak. The man must have sat on the chair opposite.
Harry could hardly still his breathing, which sounded uneven and terribly loud in his ears. Sit up he told himself You have to sit up… It didn't matter, the man couldn't hurt him here, not matter how angry he was, he couldn't… But his rationalisations were doing nothing to convince him. He remembered how angry Snape had been to learn that the visions were continuing last year, the accusations, the, th-
"Potter."
Harry flinched. He hated himself for it. He hated Snape for being able to make him feel so terrified, so disgustingly weak. Sit up sit up sit up…He had to. He was going to be strong. The man couldn't hurt him. Shakily he pulled himself upright, still facing the couch, trying to compose himself, to still the tremors in his arms. He didn't want to turn around, didn't want to face Snape.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Severus waited patiently, watching Potter slowly push away from the couch and lever himself up, all the while keeping his back to him. The boy was terrified. Severus' stomach twisted unpleasantly as the boy's emotions washed over him. He took a deep breath, trying to strengthen his mental shield further. Like always, Potter's emotions seem to emanate off him like a physical force. The boy turned slowly, seating himself on the couch while studiously not looking at him.
The silence hang heavily between them.
"How often have you been having visions, Potter?" The boy flinched from the question, like Severus had threatened a blow. Well at least he knew what he was so worried about. He muttered a response. Severus could see Harry was shaking, even though the boy's hands were clasped tightly together.
"I cannot hear you, Potter" He tried to keep his voice even and soft, hoping to keep the boy calm.
/\/\/\/\\/\
"I cannot hear you, Potter" As ever, the softer Snape's voice got, the more menacing it seemed. The words seemed to stick in his throat.
"Almost every night."
His whole body was tense, waiting for the irate reply, the acid retort, the anger….
"I see." The man replied.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"I see." Severus replied. Potter was in flight mode. The boy looked like he was going to bolt at any moment. While this wasn't really a concern- the boy had nowhere to go in here- the fundamental issue had to be addressed. Severus wasn't sure now was the best moment for it though. He wanted to sigh, but refrained. Potter couldn't exactly be blamed for his response, given the less than amicable lessons of the previous year. But Severus had never worked with such a frustrating case. None of his students had ever been this afraid, this abjectly petrified, of him.
"Are your visions always so violent?"
The boy just kept looking down. He nodded silently.
He looked the boy over were he sat. The thin, boney shoulders were hunched over, the pale complexion, the dark smudges under the eyes. Potter looked exhausted. He knew they needed to discuss this, to address the issue. Potter would never trust him when he was, for lack of a better expression, terrified senseless by him. But now was not the time.
/\/\/\/\/\
Harry nodded silently, unable to get more words out. He wished Snape would just shout. Rail at him, be angry. The Potion Master's quiet, threatening questions were, by far, much worse. He had no idea what the man wanted or if he was going to talk him into another trap. He was so tired. His wrist throbbed: he must have hit it on the table during the vision. He tried to focus on the pain, to stop the panic that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Potter, I am going to give you something to help you sleep." The man stood Harry saw from the corner of his eye. He cringed back. He didn't want anything from the man. But he already knew he would have no choice.
Snape put a dark coloured phial on the table. "Lie down and drink this." He didn't want to. But the thought of angering Snape further, of getting in even deeper was far more terrifying than whatever the small glass tube contained.
Slowly he reached out and took it. Stomach twisting he lay down, aware that the man was watching, and lifting it to his lips, knocked the contents back in a single go.
/\/\/\/\/\
Potter's body slumped almost immediately as the potion took effect. It was not a large dose but Dreamless Sleep potion was fast acting, and the boy was already exhausted. Severus slipped the phial out of his unresisting grip and, pausing only momentarily, lifted the blanket off the floor and over his student's limp form. Pausing again, he reached down and gently pulled the boy's glasses off his face, placing them on the coffee table.
Walking into the kitchen to make himself a strong cup of tea, he noticed his tumbler, still smoking slightly, had been placed on the sideboard.