Previously in To Have A Home:
Putting his head in his hands, the man could only sit in silence while he replayed the scene of Harry's rescue in his mind like a film. The line between good and evil had been blurred, and Severus needed to figure out who he could trust.
As the clock struck 7:00 pm, Draco quickly entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. There, sitting at her desk, was Professor Umbridge, quill running back and forth across the sheet of parchment in front of her. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, and her mouth quirked up into a slight smirk.
"Mr. Malfoy, please take a seat." came the cloying voice of the Professor.
Doing as he was told, Draco deposited his bag onto the chair adjacent to him before sitting. The teen remained silent as Umbridge slowly walked around the desk, her eyes locked on him like a predator stalking its prey. He eyed the quill that she held, observing how she absentmindedly twirled it between her fingers.
"Due to your insubordination, you must learn what is and is not acceptable behavior within a classroom."
With a flick of her wand, a blank sheet of parchment materialized in front of Draco. She placed the quill alongside the parchment and smiled.
"For the next hour, you will write lines. Hopefully by the time you finish, your attitude will have adjusted. You will be writing the following sentence." Levitating a piece of chalk, the Professor wrote on the chalkboard, I must not tell lies.
The platinum haired teen held back a groan, at risk of additional punishment. Taking the quill in hand, Draco began to write his first of many lines. However, his action was cut short by the blinding pain that took over his right hand. He stared closely, noting with horror that the words written on the parchment had been carved into the back of his hand. The Slytherin schooled his features, so as not to show any weakness.
Gritting his teeth, Draco continued to write lines for the next hour. By the time his detention was over, his hand bled steadily from the letter-shaped wounds. He forced himself to look his Professor in the eye, slightly uncomfortable by the smile that graced her lips.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, I hope that this has taught you not to tell lies in my classroom." The woman said in her sickly sweet voice.
Draco didn't trust himself to speak, so he opted to simply nod in response before exiting the room. He kept constant pressure on his hand on his way back to his dorm, making sure the bleeding had stopped by the time he reached the door to the common room. After slowly ascending the staircase, Draco silently entered his dorm. Thankfully, his roommates are heavy sleepers so he was able to get ready for bed without waking his peers.
One restless night later, Draco entered the Great Hall for breakfast, though a glance down at his injured hand deterred his appetite. The keen and concerned eyes of the Potions Master locked on the boy from the staff table. He focused on the body language of his Godson, observing the way he hunched over and protected his right hand. The man didn't need to be a skilled Occlumens to know that something occurred the previous night during Draco's detention; something that would undoubtedly warrant a serious conversation and an investigation into the situation.
The Head of Slytherin's mind wandered to the boy who currently lay unconscious in the hospital wing. He thought of the words that have continued to haunt him since they were uttered.
Why couldn't you just let me die?
In his peripheral vision, the Headmaster seemed quite content as he ate his breakfast, giving no indication that anything was remotely wrong. Severus held back a sneer as Albus leaned over to Dolores, whispering something that elicited a sly smile from the toad-like woman. The Potions Master cast one last look at his Godson, making a mental note to speak with him that evening, before taking his leave of the Great Hall. It was only 7:30, and classes would not begin until 8:00. The man silently walked to the Hospital Wing, wanting an update on Harry.
The Gryffindor had been moved from the spot he had been occupying to an area that had been sectioned off; behind a curtain to give some much needed privacy to the unstable teen. Unsurprisingly, said teen was still unconscious due to the sedative potions administered to him by Madame Pomfrey. Severus entered the small room, and took note of how Harry's face no longer had the near-death pallor. He also noticed that his wrists, while heavily bandaged, were also restrained to the bed.
While it pained the man to see his student chained up like an animal, he knew that it was not only for the boy's own safety, but for the safety of others. He had a strong feeling that the restraints were to prevent what would most definitely be a physical confrontation between Harry and a certain meddling Headmaster. Personally, Severus would rather let the teen give Albus what is coming to him, but deep down he was glad for the added protection.
The man was shocked as he observed emerald green eyes blink up at him sleepily.
"Good morning, Harry."
Severus reached over and gently placed the boy's glasses on his face, knowing how poor his eyesight was. Unsurprisingly, the boy's gaze turned bitter as his foggy mind began to clear. The man pulled up a chair, undeterred by his student's stare.
There were so many things he longed to say; so many words that had been left unsaid. He looked into Harry's eyes and was once again filled with grief at the reminder of his lost love.
"I apologize for the wrist restraints. They are merely a precaution."
Harry eyed the soft shackles that surrounded his wrists with disdain. While he hated being tied down, the logical part of his brain supplied the fact that it was understandable due to his recent actions. He swallowed thickly as he remembered the events that led to his drastic decision.
Severus watched silently while a multitude of emotions crossed his student's features. He knew that the boy's mind must be traveling at warp speed, and so he sat there, patiently, giving Harry time to process his thoughts. It was an all too familiar sight, having observed the same behavior in both himself and his godson.
"I want to die. I can't take all of the lies and betrayal. I have no one and nobody believes anything I say. My parents are dead, My relatives are awful, My best friends abandoned me, and I'm basically Public Enemy Number One as far as all of the Wizarding World is concerned. So there isn't anything worth fighting for anymore.
"I should have died fourteen years ago, and I wish I had." Harry admitted.
"Dumbledore is using me as a pawn in his stupid game. He knew exactly what I was enduring. He left me on a fucking doorstep in the middle of the night! He claims to care about me but He is the one who placed me in a house of horrors. I was basically a house elf for eleven years. I lived in a fucking cupboard. I was fed scraps of food because God forbid I take any food away from their precious Dudley." He remarked sarcastically.
Severus nodded, hanging onto every word that left the boy's mouth.
"The only comfort I received was from Miss Figg whenever she watched over me while my Aunt and Uncle took Dudley on a family outing. I'm sure she wrote to Dumbledore about my situation. But did he reply? Of course not.
"I sent out so many letters. No one even cared to check on me. I don't know why you even bothered showing up when you did. You probably just thought I was being a dramatic teenager." Harry scoffed.
Snape waited before speaking, in case the teen had more to say. When nothing else came from him, the man sighed.
"There are no words to describe the amount of pain you have experienced in your life. You have every right to hold resentment towards the Headmaster. Some troubling information has come to light, but before I relay it to you, there is something you should know."
The boy stared at his Professor, bracing himself for the possibility of even more disappointment.
"I too was a victim of abuse growing up." Severus revealed, noting the widening of the green eyes in front of him.
"My father was a drunken coward who took out his aggression on my mother and I. It seemed like my only purpose was to be a punching bag after my father would return from the pub." He took a breath before continuing.
"I was in fifth year when I found out my mother died. She had been killed by my father, and like you, I didn't feel that I had anything left to live for. So that night, I snuck up to the Astronomy Tower. I was about to jump when I was stopped by none other than your mum. She and I had been attached at the hip since before we started at Hogwarts. I remember Petunia from our childhood, and I know now that she never outgrew her disdain for magic. She had written to Dumbledore, pleading with him to allow her to attend Hogwarts, but was obviously rejected."
A small gasp from the Gryffindor interrupted Severus. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Had I known about the Headmaster's plan to place you under Petunia's care, I never would have allowed it. I had promised your mother to protect you from harm should anything happen to her during the war, and I have failed to do so. I will regret that for the rest of my life, Harry. My behavior towards you in the past was just a front, due to my precarious arrangement with the Headmaster. I never hated you, and will never and could never hate you." Severus added.
Stunned silence filled the small room as the information sunk in. Harry barely had time to form a response before the sound of the Hospital Wing doors being opened caught his attention. A voice that Severus would know anywhere mumbled something he couldn't quite make out. He didn't want to leave Harry alone with his thoughts, but the same nagging feeling he had during breakfast when he glanced at his godson once again made itself known in the pit of his stomach.
He reinforced the privacy spell on the small room before exiting and seeking out the other boy. Said boy currently stood in front of Madame Pomfrey, clutching his right hand with his left. Walking over, Severus extended his hand, silently urging Draco to do the same so that the two adults could see the injury.
The blonde hesitated, raising a shaky hand towards the Potions Master. What the man saw made his heart drop. He immediately recognized the markings on his godson and knew exactly how they had gotten there. After all of his time being Voldemort's right hand man, the Slytherin had become well versed in torture devices. He was able to put the puzzle pieces together, deducing that a blood quill had been used on the young Malfoy.
Anger quickly filled the man but he remained calm, so as not to further frighten his already traumatized student. He walked Draco over to the closest bed, gently inspecting the jagged cuts that occupied the back of his hand. With a concerned look towards Madame Pomfrey, the woman began her task of healing the wounds. Draco remained surprisingly stoic throughout the process, only wincing slightly as the medicine was applied.
Severus wanted so badly to go find Dolores Umbridge and report her to the Ministry of Magic for her use of torture devices, but decided that he had to prioritize the troubled teen in the other room.
"I will return shortly." The man informed, taking his leave and returning to the small secluded area.
"Is Draco okay?"
The question itself was not the reason for Severus' surprise. It was the use of the other boy's first name that threw him off. The man was debating how much information to share with the teen, but decided to tell the truth, knowing that lying to him would not have a good outcome.
Severus explained what had happened to Draco, as well as how he had defended the Boy Who Lived in his absence, earning him detention. The man refrained from telling Harry about the conversation they had, in which his godson confessed his desire to befriend the Gryffindor; as well as the fact that he had been the only one to receive a letter, knowing that the teen needed more time to process his emotions.
It was in the silence that followed that a realization occurred.
Severus Snape and Harry Potter were two sides of the same coin.