48. One day before everything changed


It's a sad, sad situation

And it's getting more and more absurd

Why can't we talk it over

What have I got to do to be heard

What do I say when it's all over

And seems sorry to be the hardest word

What do I do when lightning strikes me

And I wake to find that you're not there*


If I catch you one more time with her alone, I will not listen to any explanations. I will not listen to anything.

The words echoed in Harry's head as clearly as if Severus had just spoken them. And as he stared into those eyes piercing him, burning with hatred, he knew that nothing he said would be enough... But he had to try!

"Professor..." he began with a trembling voice. Every word seemed to hurt his esophagus. "It's not what you think. I swear."

"Silence!" The voice that came out from between thin lips sounded like it was carved from ice. It was heavy, hard and cold. "Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley... caught red-handed during an intimate tryst... Has having sex in cupboard become some new fashion?"

Harry felt his stomach turn inside out.

Cupboard. This was their place! And now Severus thinks that they... that he...

A whole series of situations passed through his head.

Something came up and Snape stumbling upon him and Ginny in the Entrance Hall.

Is everything all right, Potter? when he forgot to send him a good night.

I can't stay when he was supposed to spend the evening with Snape, when- It really did look like he was ignoring Snape because he preferred to meet secretly with Ginny!

Oh fuck!

He felt panic rising. Panic that prevented him from breathing or uttering a single word. Where to start? What to say? How to explain this?

This couldn't be explained!

"But this-" he began, feeling as if something was about to burst his lungs.

"If you want to mate so badly, do it outside Hogwarts, because whoring will not be tolerated in this castle!" Snape interrupted him in a raised tone. Harry heard genuine hatred in that voice, flowing from the man's throat like venom, wanting to bite, to tear... "You both lose fifty points and you can be sure that Professor McGonagall will find out about what happened here. She'll probably be devastated that her dear Gryffindors are fucking around like rabbits..."

"We didn't-"

"But what could you expect from the Weasleys?" The man's disgusted gaze moved to the trembling Ginny. "You can do nothing more except for spreading your legs and breeding like rats. You should all be exterminated. Especially a trollop like you." Harry saw Ginny's eyes widen in fear and shock, tears welling up in them. She opened her mouth to say something, but Snape didn't let her, continuing in an even more vindictive, even more vicious tone. As if he was trying to stone her with words. "If you are found to be pregnant, you and your bastard will be immediately expelled from the school."

"How can you-?" Ginny started, but Harry interrupted her.

"I didn't touch her at all!" - he shouted desperately.

Snape's eyebrow went up.

"That's exactly what I expected from you, Potter," the man hissed, as if Harry hadn't said anything at all. "It's enough that some whore was interested in you and you couldn't help yourself... Apparently, fame has already fuddled your mind completely. You're the Chosen One, so you can have anyone, right? After all, no one will say no to the Boy Who Lived!"

Harry felt as if each word was tearing him apart, piece by piece.

No no no no no!

"Tell him!" he shouted, looking at Ginny. He felt like he was about to explode from the inside. It was all wrong! "Come on! You know how it was! I just bumped into you!" Seeing that Ginny could only look at him with tear-filled eyes, he jumped up to her and jerked her, pointing at Snape: "Come on, tell him!"

"I-I-" she finally whispered, struggling to control her tears. "I bumped into Harry and dragged him into the cupboard..."

"Shut up!" Snape roared, and Ginny flinched. It wasn't hate anymore. It was something much deeper... "I don't want to know the details! I don't care what in position he took you, how loudly you moaned his name, where he touched you, what he whispered to you, or-" Snape stopped suddenly, breathing heavily as if he knew he had lost control. He straightened up and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he spoke after a moment, there was no longer any hatred in his voice, there was no longer that something that used to make Harry's heart want to explode, there was nothing... "You disgust me," he said, with a very quiet voice, without even one note of any feeling.

He turned with a flap of his cloak, and before Harry could do anything, he was gone. He left behind only the faint smell of herbs, the sound of plaster falling from the ceiling and the echo of doors slamming from the walls.

Harry stood dumbfounded, still clutching Ginny's arm and staring at the door. A tornado was raging in his head. He felt like he was in a nightmare and he had never wanted to wake up so much in his life.

It can't… It can't end like this. He needs to go... to explain... to say... anything!

He moved forward amuck, leaving Ginny in the cupboard. He ran out into the corridor on weak legs, threw on his cloak, passed Mrs. Norris who was hanging around on the opposite wall, and ran forward.

Down. Down. To the dungeons. As soon as possible!

On the second floor, he tripped over the club of a cave troll sculpture and landed with all his might on the stone floor, scraping his knees and wrists, but he paid no attention to it at all. He got up and moved on, running as fast as if his life depended on it.

He bounced off the walls around the corners to keep up his speed, and when he fell into the dungeons and ran through several corridors, he saw him! He saw a piece of a black cloak disappearing through the office door.

"No!" he groaned inwardly, accelerating even more, but he already knew he wouldn't make it. The door closed with a dull click. He ran towards them, stopping so suddenly that he slipped and almost fell. He felt as if he had lost a lung along the way, but that didn't matter now.

He touched the door, but it didn't move. He yanked on the door handle. Nothing. He knocked. Only silence answered him.

He bit his lip and started knocking. Louder and more insistent. He knocked until he felt like his knuckles were raw.

He was overcome with despair.

He reached into his pocket and tightened his hand on the stone.

Let me in! Please! We need to talk!

He rested his forehead against the cool surface, breathing heavily and trying to calm himself down, but then he heard a soft bang on the other side, as if something hit the door.

He fell to his knees, pressing his face against the icy floor and trying to see something in the crack under the door.

He saw it. A green, glowing stone lying on the floor of the office.

He heard the slamming of the door leading to the chambers. Then only empty, desperate silence.

He curled up on the floor, pressing his cheek against the green gem and pulling his cloak tighter around himself.

"Please," he whispered into the ether. "Please let me in."

But he knew no one would hear him...


"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Ron leaning over him.

"Finally! Get up! McGonagall is looking for you! You must go to her immediately. Together with Ginny."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply. Why couldn't he go back to sleep? Why couldn't he just go back to that cozy, safe darkness? He didn't want to plunge back into this nightmare that had started for him last night. He didn't know until what time he had been lying outside Snape's door, but when he got up, every muscle in his body ached and he was shaking so badly as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over him. He dragged himself to the dormitory when it was long after the party and just threw himself on the bed. He didn't remember when he fell asleep.

"Harry..." Ron's uncertain voice broke into his sweet darkness, dispelling it. "I... Ginny told us everything. Don't worry. It's not your fault that Gryffindor fell to last place again. Snape is just a big greasy asshole."

Harry opened his eyes and pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard of the bed. Everything hurt him. And most of all, something inside, very, very deep inside him.

Snape hated him. He felt like his whole world had collapsed and he would never be able to put it back together.

When he didn't speak, Ron continued:

"Don't worry. It's not that bad. Only Greg got a little angry and threatened to kill you, but we explained everything to him."

"Mhm," Harry muttered, staring at his hands.

"Come on, man. You were just unlucky to bump into this bastard. It's not like McGonagall is going to throw you out of school for something you didn't do. Just explain to her what happened and that's it. And these points will somehow be made up for," he smiled reassuringly.

Harry sighed heavily.

Yes, points...

Oh, if only he knew...


McGonagall was really furious. Before they could interrupt her and explain what had happened, she lectured them so much that Harry felt like her voice would ring in his ears for the rest of the day. She said, among other things, that Professor Snape had visited her early in the morning, claiming that he had discovered two of her students "copulating shamelessly in a broom closet" and that they had caused her such shame as she had never experienced in her entire teaching practice. Ginny was on the verge of tears again as she had to explain how it happened that, as Professor Snape put it, "she looked like a cheap trollop and a whore" and McGonagall had took extra points away from her for wandering around the castle at night. Besides, Harry also had to explain what he was doing in the middle of the night in the fifth floor corridor. All he could think of was that he was feeling stuffy and went for a walk. He knew McGonagall didn't believe him, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything.

Of course, they both got detentions. Two weekends with Mr. Filch.

After visiting McGonagall, they headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, not saying a word to each other. However, halfway there, Harry heard Ginny's muffled voice: "I hate him."

He didn't turn his head or look at her. He looked down at his feet, at the passing stone slabs.

"How could he say something like that? After all... I just can't wrap my head around it. He is a teacher, to all gargoyles!"

"Mhm," Harry murmured. He didn't want to go back to that. He didn't want to have anything to do with Ginny at all right now. He knew it wasn't her fault, but if she hadn't decide to- if he hadn't bumped into her- if-

"I was a little... a little drunk yesterday," she said sheepishly. 'I don't quite remember what really happened and what he said. But never in my life has anyone been so...'

"Bye," Harry grumbled, leaving her alone in the doorway to the Great Hall and turning to the side, towards the Gryffindor table and Hermione and Ron sitting at it. Even before he reached them, his eyes involuntarily turned to the teacher's table. He was sure he wouldn't see Snape eating, and he wasn't wrong. He thought it would be a relief for him, but it felt quite the opposite...

He sat down heavily next to Ron and Hermione and didn't speak to them throughout breakfast. For some time he just poked at the scrambled eggs with his fork, feeling that if he tried to eat anything, he would regurgitate it very quickly. He preferred not to take risks. His stomach felt so tight it felt like someone had tied it in a knot.

He had no idea what to do. Really. He had absolutely no idea. He knew Snape. He knew he always kept his promises. If he said he wouldn't listen to any explanations, then he won't.

He couldn't go to him because he knew the man wouldn't let him in. He couldn't send him anything because he threw away the stone.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

He just wanted to lie down and fall asleep. Maybe when he wakes up, it will all be over? Maybe things will be like they used to be between them again? Maybe...

But amidst all this despair he felt something else. Something that consumed him and devoured him from the inside. Anger.

Anger that Snape didn't believe him. That he really could think that Harry could ever cheat on him! That he didn't trust him and didn't even want to listen to what he had to say. How can he explain this to him if this stubborn bastard doesn't want to see him?

How?


Snape didn't show up for lunch either. In the afternoon, Harry tried to do his homework with Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't concentrate at all. The speed and direction of the rotation of Neptune's moons and the great battle between the goblins and the giants of 1734 seemed completely irrelevant to him at the moment. The reproachful glances cast by his household members did not help him either. As if it was his fault they ended up in last place!

By the time dinner came, he was so depressed that even Ron and Hermione noticed something was wrong with him. Except they still thought he felt guilty about the lost points and detentions that awaited him.

Why did he have to help them when they had problems and no one could help him?

Nobody.

He didn't want to go to dinner. He knew he wouldn't eat anything anyway, but Hermione insisted that he had to go and if he didn't eat anything this time, she would force him to eat by herself.

As he entered the Great Hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to a dark silhouette on the other side of the vast room. Harry's heart jumped into his throat. He tried to catch Severus's gaze, but the man wasn't looking his way. He was sitting next to McGonagall, leaning over his plate.

Suddenly Harry's knees were too weak to support him, and they trembled as he took a step towards the Gryffindor table. Somehow he managed to reach the table and sit down at it without falling over on the way. Snape didn't even spare him a glance. Harry could only see him leaning over to McGonagall from time to time and whispering something to her with a vindictive look on his face, the teacher looking more and more outraged by his words each time. After a while, she looked at him with such disbelief as if he had suddenly turned into something disgusting, then she stood up and hurried away from the table, her cheeks flushed and her lips pursed furiously. At the same moment, Severus turned his head and looked straight at Harry.

The man's face contorted in contempt and Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He wanted to get up and scream at him not to look at him like that! Any other way, but not like this because he felt like he was fifteen again and everything that happened between them was just a dream.

But he couldn't do it. Not here. He could only watch as Severus stood up from the table, furiously pushed his chair back, and disappeared through the door behind the staff table.

He made his decision in a split second. He jumped up and, ignoring the surprised looks of his friends, ran out of the Great Hall. He pulled the invisibility cloak from his pocket and threw it on as he ran. He used his wand to silence his steps and, paying no further attention to anything, headed straight for the dungeons.

This time he has to make it!

When he reached the door leading to Snape's office, it was closed.

Damn it! He didn't make-

He froze, listening. He heard distinct footsteps. They were getting closer. He pressed himself against the wall and waited.

Yes, it was Severus! Harry felt his heart speed up to a gallop as he watched the man round the corner and approach him in long, purposeful strides. He tried to read his face, but it was too dark in the corridor and Snape's head was bowed. All he could see was his thin, tightly pressed lips.

The man passed him by, muttered the password under his breath, and when he opened the door, Harry knew he only had a split second. He pushed himself off the wall and slipped through the closing door just in time. Even though he was wearing a spell that muffled footsteps, he preferred not to take any risks and followed Snape on tiptoe, covering his mouth with his hand. Miraculously, he managed to sneak behind the man into his chambers, just as Severus was closing the door. He was so close that he almost brushed against him, and he didn't want to reveal his presence just yet. He didn't know yet what he even wanted to say or how to get Snape to listen to him. But just as Severus moved away from the door and was about to turn around, he suddenly stopped mid-step and his nostrils inhaled.

Harry froze.

Oh hell! He must have smelled him!

He saw the man's eyes widen for a moment, and then a wave of so much rage flowed through them that Harry forgot how to breathe again.

"Get out!" Snape hissed, glaring stingingly at the place where Harry was standing.

The boy reached for his cloak - why the hell were his hands shaking so much? - and slowly pulled it off, biting his lip and looking fearfully straight into the two black, burning lakes.

"Severus, please listen to m-"

"Silencio!" Snape quickly reached for his wand and pointed it at Harry, who suddenly discovered that no sound was coming from his throat.

"Damn it, I want to talk to you!" he shouted silently, though he knew that Snape wouldn't hear him anyway. The man turned his back to him and walked to one of the shelves, where he stopped with his arms crossed.

"Leave, immediately. This is my last warning. Then I won't giving it back," he drawled in a steely voice.

Harry bit his lip, feeling panic rising in his heart. Why does this asshole have to be so stubborn?

Yes, he felt warned. He knew that Snape was in such a state that if Harry didn't listen to him, it could end very badly, but damn it, he had to do something! He swore he wouldn't leave until Snape found out the truth! Because he had done nothing, absolutely nothing!

He clenched his fists, moved towards the tall, proud figure and stopped right next to it. He looked at Severus' face, which looked like it was carved from stone at this moment, and Harry knew there was a real storm brewing beneath that pale skin and pursed lips. He saw the vein throbbing furiously in Severus' temple and the fire burning in his eyes, staring at the wall.

"You have to listen to me! Please! Look at me!" he shouted silently, waving his arms and trying to get the man's attention, but Severus didn't move. As if Harry wasn't even here. "I didn't do anything. You have to listen to me. You have to!" He felt the frustration building, rising higher and higher until it finally constricted in his throat. "YOU MORON!" he finally roared in despair, but it had absolutely no effect. Snape didn't hear him at all. He didn't see him at all.

Harry touched his arm, trying to shake him and get his attention, but at the same moment Severus pulled his arm away furiously.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, although he still wasn't looking at Harry. "You disgust me."

It hurt. Harry stepped back, lowering his hand and feeling something heavy and hard sink to the bottom of his stomach. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it seemed like it wanted to break his ribs.

He took a few steps back, looking regretfully at the arms wrapped in black. The cloak, flowing softly, reached down to the ground.

What now? What was he supposed to do? What to do to make Severus want to at least look at him?

It was an impulse. An impulse that made him approach the man from behind, wrap his arms around him and press himself against his back. Just like Severus had once embraced him.

He didn't care how much he risked. Maybe this will at least tell him that-

The response was immediate. Snape jerked violently, turned to Harry, grabbed him by the arm and threw him against the shelf, pressing him against it with such force that Harry thought his ribs would break.

"I warned you," he hissed in his face. "Accio Potion of Sharpening!"

A medium-sized black bottle fell into Snape's outstretched hand, but Harry paid no attention to it, staring with wide-eyed horror at Severus' face contorted with contempt and genuine disgust. He started shaking his head, trying to free himself from the grip, but the man was too strong. He raised the bottle to the eye level and drawled, his voice so cold and distant that it didn't belong to him. because even Severus couldn't have such an emotionless voice.

"Do you know what it is?" he asked and, without waiting for the answer from Harry, who was squirming in his grip, he continued. "Something the Dark Lord loves to give his victims before he starts torturing them. It can make the slightest touch feel like a burn with a hot poker, and the faintest whisper will burst your eardrums." Harry's eyes widened and stared at the inconspicuous-looking bottle in Snape's hand. "Oh yes, you're going suffer... You will experience pain like you have never experienced in your life. You will see what it is like... you will know it thoroughly, you will feel it on your own skin, you will see how much-" He stopped suddenly and pursed his lips. Something in the black eyes lit up for a moment and dimmed. The voice trembled. But when the man spoke again, there was nothing but ice in his voice. "And its biggest advantage is that it leaves no traces. Apart from the side effects. You'll find out at night." Something menacing appeared on the thin lips, but it didn't resemble a smile at all. More like a terrifying grimace.

Harry watched in horror as Severus uncorked the bottle with his thumb.

Oh no! Does he really intends to-

Harry began to writhe and struggle, shaking his head wildly and silently screaming, "No! No! No! Don't do it! Please!", but Snape didn't hear him. There was nothing in his eyes now, except for something very, very distant. In a lightning-fast movement, he removed his arm from Harry's chest and grabbed his jaw, digging his fingers painfully into his cheeks and forcing Harry to open his mouth. Before Harry could grab his hand and stop him, he was choking on the sour potion Snape was pouring into his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but several portions went down his esophagus. Finally the man released him and moved away, and Harry fell to the floor, choking and spitting.

He felt something strange. It started in his stomach. An unbearable burning sensation, as if digestive juices had suddenly penetrated the stomach walls and entered the blood. He rose shakily and leaned back against the bookcase, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to fall over again as his head began to spin. His clothes scratched and rubbed against his skin with every movement. He tried to open his eyes, but the light blinded him and stung his eyes. He shielded himself with an arm and hissed in pain as his shirt slid across his body, making it feel like someone was trying to rip his skin off with sandpaper.

And then he heard a bang so loud it felt like his head was going to explode. He covered his ears with his hands, moaning silently. He managed to open his eyes for a second and see Snape snapping his fingers in Harry's face. The next bang was so loud it felt like a jackhammer was drilling into his brain. He knew his mouth was open. He knew he was screaming.

Feet. They hurt. They were pinched. It was as if they had turned into two large, throbbing blisters, but he couldn't fall over because then more of his body would touch the floor and it would hurt even more. The edges of the shelves were digging into his back like blades, and every slight movement caused him even more pain, as if they were digging deeper and deeper into his body. As if someone was cutting him into pieces alive.

"No! No! No! Let it end! Please! It hurts... Please! Severus!" - he tried to scream, even though he knew it was pointless. That the man can't hear him. And even if he heard...

He pushed himself away from the shelf, trying to escape the pain. He turned around, clutching his head in his hands, but then he felt a splash on his back. He screamed and jumped up, accidentally hitting his forehead on the shelf. He was sure his skull was about to explode. Another splash made his entire body tense to the breaking point. He didn't know what it was, but it felt like someone was whipping him. After the third blow, his body arched and he turned around abruptly, pressing his back against the shelf again and opening his eyes for a second. Just enough to see Severus withdraw his wand hand. He couldn't see anything else through his watery eyes.

"Please..." he whispered once again through numb lips, dry from the scream that no one could hear. Lava was flowing down his body. Every little movement was like rubbing against a blanket studded with needles. He just wanted to throw himself on the floor and die. His head was spinning so much it felt like it was going to fall off. He squeezed it between his hands, begging all the spirits for it to end, for someone to stop it, so he wouldn't have to suffer like this anymore. He had no idea where he was, but this was how he imagined hell. Every movement tore his skin, and every heartbeat echoed painfully through his body. He couldn't feel his back at all. Same with feet. Numbness was slowly setting in.

Fortunately, relief also came with it. The pain subsided, bit by bit, releasing subsequent parts of the body from its claws, leaving only the muscles trembling from excessive exertion. Sweat was flowing down his forehead and back, and his heart was pounding like crazy. His legs were shaking so much that he was sure that if he tried to take even a step, he would fall. His head was throbbing painfully and it felt like something was going to burst it. And what's more, he felt sick.

Very slowly he opened his eyes. The light didn't hurt anymore. It hurt to see Severus. Sitting comfortably in an armchair with his legs crossed and watching him through half-closed eyes. There wasn't even a hint of emotion on his face. Harry would expect satisfaction. Contentment. Anything. But there was absolutely nothing.

Same as in him.

He was so stunned that for a few moments he just stood there, staring blankly around the room. He looked to the side and saw a Pensieve standing in the very corner of the room.

And in a split second a solution came to him.

He broke away from the shelf and took a step towards it, but his legs gave way under him and he fell to the floor. He rose to his knees and breathed heavily for a moment, his head buried in his arms, trying to gather some strength. He felt as if every muscle in his body had broken from the effort. After a while, he sighed heavily and rose with difficulty. He moved on weak legs towards the Pensieve. He felt a dark gaze following him. He rested his hands on the edge of the bowl and reached for his wand.

He had never done it before, but he had seen Dumbledore and Snape use it and it didn't seem too difficult.

He put his wand to his temple and began to remember. The whole day yesterday and the day before yesterday. Going out with Ron and Ginny, Hermione's request, being bored at the party, going to Snape's, running into Ginny, the cupboard...

When he was sure he had thought of everything, he pulled his wand away from his temple and flicked the silver-white mist into a bowl. He looked into the swirling substance and pursed his lips.

He put his wand back in his pocket, slowly turned away from the Pensieve and moved towards the door, not even looking at Snape's dark figure. With the greatest difficulty, he bent down and picked up his cloak from the floor. When he reached the door and touched the handle, he hesitated for a moment.

He didn't know what he was waiting for. But he was waiting. For anything.

But when nothing happened, not a word came, not even a rustle, he pressed the doorknob and left.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to go, except that his head was pounding so much that he couldn't stand it anymore and he was getting more and more sick with every step he took.

He put on the invisibility cloak and walked forward, shuffling his legs. He didn't want to think about anything. He didn't want to remember this suffering, nor Severus's gaze... Because he didn't know what was more torture for him.

On the first floor, he felt so sick that he ran into the first bathroom and vomited into the sink. He felt unbearable hot flushes that took over his entire body. Sweat began to flow down his body in thick drops again. He was shaking all over.

He needs to go to the hospital wing. He... he can't stand this.

He rinsed his face with cold water and left the bathroom, heading straight to the hospital wing. When he finally got there, he was so sweaty that his clothes were sticking to him. He showed the nurse in sign language that he couldn't speak, and when she cast Finite Incantatem on him, he muttered something about someone must have added something to his meal at dinner, and then he vomited at her feet. The nurse poured some potions into him, cursing the students and their stupid pranks and swearing that she had to seriously talk to the Headmaster and ask him to put an end to such practices, because in the end it could lead to a real tragedy.

Harry couldn't say that the potions helped him much. His head still pounded and he felt sick, but at least he stopped sweating and shaking so much. Pomfrey wanted to leave him in the hospital wing overnight, but he lied that he was feeling much better. He mumbled his thanks and left. In the corridor, he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to block out the dark spots dancing in front of his eyes, and then he heard it... distant, familiar footsteps. They were getting closer.

In panic, he pulled his cloak out of his pocket and put it on. He managed to do it at the last moment. Snape appeared around the corner. He was approaching in long, sweeping strides, his cloak flapping behind him as he was gliding down the hall, his gaze fixed on the hospital door. And as he passed by, Harry only needed one look at his face to understand…

He saw the memories!

There was no emptiness on it anymore. On the contrary. It radiated a level of agitation that Harry had never seen before.

Before he could take a closer look, though, the man disappeared through the hospital doors and Harry heard his raised voice: "Was Potter here?"

"Oh, Professor Snape... I need to have a serious talk with you! Yes, he was here, he just left a moment ago! If only you saw what the disciples of your house did to him! They put something in his meal again! He looked absolutely terrible! He was vomiting and... please don't turn your back to me when I'm talking to you! Professor Snape! Profess-"

Harry jumped as the door burst open and Snape burst out. He looked around the corridor with erratic eyes. Harry pressed himself harder against the wall, holding his breath.

The man took a step towards him. Harry moved back slightly, trying not to make a sound. For a moment Severus studied the wall next to where Harry was standing, then he took a step closer again and his nostrils inhaled.

Harry was staring at his narrowed eyes, which were carefully scanning the space, and knew only one thing: he didn't want to have anything to do with him now. Absolutely nothing. Not after this...

Maybe he'll go away... Maybe he'll find out that he only imagined he smelled Harry's scent...

Suddenly Harry began to feel the heaves again. He pressed his hand to his mouth, trying to hold the puke, but it still made him utter a strange, gurgling sound.

Snape's eyes widened and he moved his head slightly to the side, looking directly at where Harry was standing, and his expression changed. Something strange appeared on it. Something that made Severus bite his lip and frown as if he was fighting something. As if he was fighting with himself. Harry was staring straight into his glowing eyes, seeing a range of colors in them and having no idea where they came from, because the corridor was too dark for it to be reflecting light.

For a moment they just stood there, as if suspended in time, and then Severus looked away and pulled back, moving down the hall. Harry was staring at his retreating back and wondering...

What would happen next?

When Harry returned to the Common Room, he found Hermione and Ron by the fireplace. They practiced copying spells. He explained to them that this time the Slytherins had poured something poisonous to his meal and he had to go to the hospital wing quickly, which is why he ran out so suddenly, and that he felt terrible because Madam Pomfrey's potions were too weak to help him. Ignoring Hermione's outrage that she swore she would tell Professor McGonagall the next time she got the chance and this time Harry wouldn't stop her, and Ron's threats that he would write to the twins to send him something really nasty and next time he would put it in all the Slytherins' pumpkin juice, Harry mumbled that he just wanted to lie down and went to the dormitory. This short conversation exhausted all his strength, and several times he was almost sure he was going to vomit again. He threw himself on the bed, not having the strength to move even a finger and just wanting to fall asleep. Sleep through it all. The best thing was to sleep and sleep and never wake up. But he wasn't able to fall asleep. His head still wanted to explode, he was suffering from shortness of breath, he had gastric problems and he felt as bad as he had never felt before in his entire life.

Suddenly, through the ringing in his ears and dizziness, a strange sound entered his mind. As if someone was tapping on the window. He raised his head with difficulty. A small brown owl was sitting on the windowsill on the other side of the window.

His head fell back onto the bed. He hoped the owl would fly away soon. He didn't have the strength to get up and let her in. Maybe it's something for Neville...

The tapping on the window became louder. Grunting and groaning, he rose from the bed and went to the window. The moment he opened it, his stomach lurched into his throat and he started vomiting on the floor. He felt a burning sensation in his esophagus. It was bile. He had nothing left to vomit.

Trying not to fall over, he straightened up, wiped his mouth, and staggered over to the bed. He plopped down on it and then noticed that the owl had sat down on his bed.

He didn't expect any correspondence. What could it be?

Curious, he reached for the package, untied it from the bird's leg, which immediately flew out the open window, and then opened it. Inside he found two vials. And a roll of parchment.

With trembling hands, he unfolded the parchment and opened his eyes in surprise when he recognized Snape's distinctive, sharp handwriting. Only this time it was not elegant as always, but angular and uneven, as if drawn in a hurry and nervousness.

He frowned and read:

It's the antidote. You need to drink it. And I give you back your memories.

He swallowed, still feeling the unbearable burning sensation in his esophagus, and looked at the vial containing the pale green liquid. In the other, a silver mist was swirling.

A part of him didn't want to accept it. As a matter of principle. But then again, he would do anything to make it end.

He threw away the parchment and memories and hastily uncorked the bottle, pouring its entire contents into himself. The liquid spread over his body with a pleasant coolness. It was delicate, like the touch of silk on the skin, and it brought solace. After a few moments, the vomiting began to subside, and so did the headache.

Harry fell back on the pillow with a sigh and closed his eyes. Only now, when the physical ailments were disappearing, did he begin to feel the mental ones more and more clearly.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to. Because whenever he remembered-

No! This couldn't happen. Severus couldn't- He wouldn't do that- He couldn't be that-

Harry raised his hands and pressed them to his eyes, feeling an increasingly unbearable burning sensation behind his eyelids. And a heavy, gut-wrenching, bitter emptiness. Only coldness was flowing through his veins now. It spread throughout the body, freezing everything in its path. It felt like ice needles were cutting into his heart. And it hurt.

For a long time he just lay there with his eyes closed or stared at the ceiling of the bed, escaping from the memories. Or rather trying to chase them away.

He tried to understand...why? Why did Snape do this? Had he hated him all this time for real? No, Harry knew it wasn't true. So why? How could he do something like this... how could he just sit there and watch? How could he... torture him? After all, they were- After all, Snape was-

-a Death Eater.

Harry opened his eyes suddenly.

He tried to forget about it. He always rejected it. He just didn't think about it. But now the truth hit so hard, so sharp, and so deep that his lungs constricted and for a moment he couldn't breathe.

Sure, he's been doing it all his life. Torturing. It was like a daily bread for him. But Harry never… ever expected Severus to be able to do this… to him.

He squeezed his eyes shut again as the frosty needles penetrated even deeper.

And at the same moment he felt warmth slowly spreading in his pocket.

He hesitated. This time his heart didn't speed up like it always did when warmth appeared in his pocket. It remained calm. Withdrawn. And trembling.

However, curiosity won. He slowly pulled out the gem and looked at its shiny surface.

Potter... We need to clarify a few things. When can we meet and talk?

He didn't know what to expect. But definitely not something like this. Something so... trivial!

Snape should… should… damn it, he should pay for what he did! Apologize to Harry on his knees! And don't act like nothing important happened. Like he just said something mean to Harry. And as if he was doing Harry a great favor by speaking at all! To hell with him!

The icy envelope around his heart had been broken and Harry now felt something very bitter and poisonous flowing out of him...

He clenched the stone in his trembling hand and sent:

Talk? Talk?! When I wanted to talk, you didn't care! You didn't want to listen at all! You preferred to torture me! That's what you're best at, right? You think you're so intelligent, but in reality, you're just a pathetic, jealousy-blind asshole!

He jumped up into a sitting position, dropping the stone from his hand and breathing heavily. His head was spinning again. He buried his face in his hands, trying to calm down, but he couldn't. There was something inside him and he had to, he must to let it out! He grabbed the stone again in his sweaty hand and squeezed it so hard that it almost crushed it.

How could you ever think that I would cheat on you? You know I can't see the world outside of you! I would never, ever do that! Why didn't you trust me? Why did you accuse me of this? And you didn't even let me explain... you didn't give me any chance to defend myself! You only made me suffer! Such cruel and senseless-

He released the gem again, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them with the back of his trembling hand and stared at the inconspicuous stone lying on the bed. It remained cool and subdued. As if the words were falling into the ether. Unheard. Ignored.

Harry bit his lip and slowly reached out his hand, bringing it closer to the gem. After a moment, he withdrew it. He stared at the green, smooth surface for a moment, then grabbed the stone for the third time and sent his last message:

I don't want to meet you. I don't want to talk to you right now. Just... fuck off.

He tucked the jewel deep under his pillow and lay down, covering himself with the blanket up to his chin. He was still shaking, but he was feeling better. He let out at least a small part of what was inside him.

He needed time. He needed to think about a few things. To rest. To calm down.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and curled up in the fetal position.

Now he just wanted to sleep. And forget about it, at least for a moment. Tomorrow... maybe it will be a better day. Maybe he will look at everything from a different perspective. Maybe it won't hurt so much. Inside him.

Little did he know that tomorrow... his world would shatter into pieces.


* "Sorry seems to be the hardest word" by Blue featuring Elton John