39. Something's wrong

 

Something's wrong with you, The walls you build around you now,
Seem to fit you like a glove.

Am I too blind to see that there's something there behind your eyes
and it's bringing me to my knees?*

 

On Friday morning during breakfast, Harry received a letter from Lupin. He wouldn't feel comfortable reading it at the staff table where all Hogwarts students ate their meals every day, so he stuffed it in his pocket and opened it only when he was alone in his dormitory.

For the first half of the letter, Remus only wrote about insignificant trivialities, asked Harry how his studies were going, whether he liked his lessons with Tonks, expressed his interest in the Quidditch matches and only mentioned in half-words that he was currently performing an important task for the Order, but for security reasons he cannot reveal anything more to him.

 

As for your questions, Harry... I know you're eager to know something, and I totally understand that. However, we have certain recommendations and rules. It's not known who could intercept this letter. That's why I can only tell you that our information shows that it's getting more and more dangerous. He seems to be in an unusually good mood lately, so we fear he may be planning something big and very dangerous. We have already lost many Aurors and we believe that number may increase in the near future. That's why I'm asking you not to leave Hogwarts anywhere and not to try to break the Headmaster's ban. It's for your safety, even if you think it limits your freedom. You need to understand, Harry, that you are his main target and we must protect you at all costs. Remember - don't trust anyone, not even your friends. You need to keep an eye out and if you notice anything suspicious, anything, report it to Dumbledore immediately.

I'm sorry for this didactic tone, but I only want your good. Now that Sirius is gone, it's up to me to take care of you and I'm very sorry that I can't be there to support you, but I'm trying my best to do it from a distance. I hope you understand this.

Greet Ron and Hermione from me.

Remus Lupin

 

Harry put the letter aside, gripping it a little too tightly. His hands were shaking slightly. It was nice that Remus was so concerned about him, but damn it, he wasn't a little kid anymore. He didn't want protection. He wanted information, anything!

Something twisted in his stomach at the mention of Sirius. For months, he had tried his best not to think about his godfather, but sometimes, when someone reminded him of him, something inside him snapped and his mind flooded with images from that night.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the vision of Sirius falling through the veil and his own scream, multiplied by anger and guilt and returning to him with even greater force. He began to breathe deeply, trying to get rid of the weight pressing down on his heart. The problem was that he had had it inside him for so long that he almost never felt it, except when someone reminded him of its presence.

No, he won't think about that now. There will still be time for this. A time when he would point his wand at Bellatrix Lestrange, lying at his feet... and this time he won't hesitate.

He looked at Lupin's tiny handwriting again. Really, did they all have to treat him like this? 'We have to protect you, Harry', 'It's for your safety, Harry', and so on... He kept hearing it and it made him more and more frustrated. Everyone wanted to protect him... and what good will he get from this protection if one day he will have to fight Voldemort anyway? He won't defeat him with Protego alone. It's probably obvious that he would have a much better chance if he knew anything. But no, instead of preparing him, everyone just wanted to protect him. Even Severus...

Hold on. After all, Severus had promised that he would consider teaching him a few curses. Harry completely forgot about that conversation, and the man never mentioned it, but Harry will ask him about it today! Yesterday's meeting ended a bit strangely and they didn't manage to make an appointment at all, but he doesn't always have to come announced. It was true that he could ask him through the stone, but what if Severus refused? No, Harry had to know that today! He'll go to him tonight and... he'll get an answer from Snape!

 

***

 

Harry stopped in front of the door to Severus' office and looked at the Marauder's Map again. Yes, the man was still inside.

He took a deep breath, put the map back in his pocket, and touched the door, which immediately opened to him. He walked through the office, taking off his invisibility cloak, and he knocked on the wooden surface of the heavy gate leading to the Potions Master's private quarters.

There was silence for a moment as Harry waited, his heart beating loudly and getting faster with each second he waited.

The doorknob moved and the door opened slightly.

"Potter," Severus hissed, narrowing his eyes as his gaze fell on Harry. "What do you want? I don't remember that we had an appointment today."

"No, but..." Harry started, but couldn't finish because Snape interrupted him. His voice seemed to be carved from ice.

"I don't have time for you. I would be extremely grateful if you would get out of my sight now and come back tomorrow," he drawled.

Harry felt a strange trembling around his heart. Something was wrong. Severus was acting somehow... nervous? But this time he wouldn't let himself be dismissed so easily, because the cause he came with was too important to him.

"Then you have to find it," he replied cheekily and quickly slipped under Snape's arm. The man's chamber was in semi-darkness. "I just have one question and I'll be leaving," he said, scanning the room with an appraising look before Severus could turn around. "Do you remember our conversation about the Dark Arts? You promised that--" he stopped as suddenly as if he had swallowed his own tongue. With eyes wide with horror, he stared at the Death Eater's mask lying on the chair. It was bright, almost pearlescent, reflecting the firelight from the fireplace. There were a few small, dried drops of blood on it. Right next to it he saw a black robe, the sleeves of which were decorated with dark green images of a skull and a snake.

Harry felt his stomach drop to his feet and an icy fear grip his heart, but before he could recover enough to utter a word, Severus' hand grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him towards the door.

"I told you I'm busy, Potter," the man hissed, the anger in his voice seeming to sting. "But apparently you're too arrogant and insolent to respect it." Snape dragged him out the door and across the office, squeezing his arm so tightly that Harry was sure it would bruise. "Now get out. If you have any business with me, come tomorrow. And if you ignore my words again, it will end badly for you." The Potions Master pushed him out into the corridor and slammed the door, and the sound echoed far through the vast corridors of the deserted dungeons.

Harry turned around and leaned back against the wall as his legs gave out. He felt like his head was about to explode. For a moment he just breathed heavily, trying to calm his racing heart and the feeling as if something was about to tear him apart from the inside.

Snape was a Death Eater!

It wasn't that he didn't know it, but now... when he saw it with his own eyes, it became so... terrifyingly true.

He knew that Severus was a spy for the Order, and as a spy he had to be absolutely trusted by Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, and that's why he's forced to do whatever they tell him, but... Harry always tried not to think about it, to ignore it. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. And now he saw it... he saw the bloody mask, the hated robe, and he felt as if what he had been trying to deny opened up above him and fell on him with incredible force.

He took a shaky breath, put on the invisibility cloak, and slowly made his way back to the dormitory.

Only now did certain facts begin to slip into his consciousness that he had not been able to, did not want, or was unable to admit before. He had never wondered before, not really, about this 'second' life of Severus... Somewhere out there, far from his dim chambers, far from the safety of Hogwarts, far from the long school corridors and the students running carelessly along them, far away from Harry... Among hatred, dread, screams of pain, howls of the dying ones, among envy, despair and mind-shattering laughter, devoid of all feelings and disinhibited...

Truth be told, Harry didn't think he could live like this. He suspected he would either go mad or become as unscrupulous a murderer as everyone else. A person, no matter how mentally strong and resistant, will after some time begin to 'permeate' the strong emotions present in the air, absorb them and perceive them as their own, no longer distinguishing them from each other.

But Severus was... Severus Snape. After all, he was someone who could do anything with his mind. At least that's what he said. Harry remembered that conversation.

He didn't believe it. He wanted to believe it, he really wanted to, but he couldn't. How can you convince yourself that you are an unscrupulous murderer? Or that you love someone? No one could fake it that well. If Severus managed to trick even Voldemort, though...

Harry stopped suddenly.

What if he didn't have to trick him at all? If he does all this for real? If he enjoys it?

A cold chill ran down his spine.

No, he can't think like that. It's Severus!

Former Death Eater... his conscience told him. Someone who loves to cause pain...

That didn't matter! Severus belonged to him! Only to him! He looked at him in such a way that Harry lost his breath, he touched him, so gently and carefully... He remembered it, remembered every kiss, every look, every gesture. Someone who has only darkness within him would not be able to ignite himself with such a bright flame. Anyway...

Harry moved on again, smiling slightly at his thoughts.

Anyway, even if there was more darkness than light in him... he would still be Severus. His Severus. Severus, whom he trusted. Whom he must trust. And in whom he must believe. He must believe that Severus is Dumbledore's spy and he doesn't want to wear those robes and do... all those things. If he didn't believe it, then... he might as well go to Voldemort now.

When casting curses, it's all about whether you want and can hurt someone...

Suddenly struck by a sudden impulse, he stopped again, remembering a fragment of that conversation. Snape's words echoed in his head, making him shiver again. His mind was haunted by a vision of the slender hand of Severus, gripping his wand tightly and unhesitatingly inflicting pain on the innocent victims writhing on the ground... the same hand that touched his body with tenderness and gentleness, wandered over his skin, trying to memorize every inch of it, and clenched on his cock, caressing it and bringing him to a delirious orgasm. The same lips that utter words of curses intended to mortally wound the victims or torture them to the point of losing their minds... the very same lips kissed his body, tasted him and whispered words in his ear that almost immediately make him come... The same eyes that looked at death and destruction without a hint of compassion, and their black irises reflect the flames of people and their houses being burned alive... the same eyes looked at Harry as if they wanted to devour him, tear him to shreds, mark him, make him squirm and whimper... and he couldn't resist them.

His mind was confused. A terribly, unpleasantly confused, and it would take a very long time to get rid of it.

Well, it looks like he won't be able to sleep very quickly tonight...

 

***

When Harry received the Daily Prophet the next day, he expected what he might see in it. The nervous waiting meant that he almost didn't touch his breakfast at all. Severus wasn't at the table, but maybe that was for the best, because he probably couldn't stop himself from giving him ambiguous, thoughtful glances.

He wasn't wrong. It was there. On the first page.

An article about the Death Eaters' attack on the building housing the Wizarding Department of Foreign Affairs, the place where contact was established and maintained with all magical centers around the world.

Harry felt a knot in his stomach. He didn't want to read it. He just scanned the text, trying to find the number of dead or missing people.

Fourteen people.

He swallowed, feeling as if he had been hit hard in the solar plexus, and his breath left him for a moment.

He put the Prophet aside, ignoring the indignant uproar that erupted around the table as several people also opened the newspapers.

Of course Severus was involved. He had to. Otherwise Voldemort would consider him a traitor.

Harry spent half the night thinking about it and trying to put his thoughts and feelings together. It wasn't that he didn't trust Severus. He knew that Snape was doing all this just so he could spy for the Order and report everything to Dumbledore, but despite that... Harry was afraid of him sometimes. Of course, not like at the beginning... but now, when he knew what the casting of the Dark Arts acquired, when he saw the Death Eater robes on the chair, when he finally realized what Severus had to do as one of Voldemort's companions... now he felt a seed growing more and more intensely within him. A seed of anxiety.

Something was wrong... but for now, he couldn't exactly tell, what it was.

He knew he couldn't behave like this. That burying the head in the sand won't help. Severus was the most important person in the world to him, and whatever he did for Voldemort... it shouldn't interfere with their private affairs. He cannot allow Voldemort to destroy what he has worked so hard to create. To destroy this fragile something that was between them.

He must go to him today. He needs to show Severus that he's not scared. That he knows and understands.

He has to accept it.

 

***

He hesitated too long. He was afraid that Snape would throw him out again, that he would be mad at him for yesterday's visit. After all, no matter how he looked at it, he really behaved impertinently. On the other hand, though - the man told him to come today.

He hadn't seen him all day. Severus didn't show up for any of the meals, and Harry felt both relieved and increasingly concerned.

When the clock in the Common Room struck nine, he finally made up his mind. He grabbed the invisibility cloak and went down to the dungeons, trying not to think about anything that would make him turn back. He stopped in front of the door and stood there for a moment, staring hesitantly at the dark wood. He touched it after some time. He entered the office carefully, feeling strangely relieved because if Snape hadn't removed the charm on the door that allowed Harry to enter freely, maybe he wasn't so angry with him.

Before knocking on the next door, he waited a little longer, trying to think of some sensible words to use at the beginning, but nothing came to mind. Well, then he'll just have to say what he thinks.

He knocked and waited a moment, and his heart leapt as the doorknob finally moved and Severus stood in the doorway. A tall, dark figure, looking at him through narrowed eyes with a hard gaze that Harry couldn't read at all at the moment.

"Uh..." Harry swallowed. Well, that was it for expressing what he was thinking. Whenever Severus looked at him like that, everything evaporated from his mind. "I wanted to... I hope I'm not disturbing you. Can I come in?" Yeah, that was probably okay. Nothing like Hey, I know you're a Death Eater, but I don't care, really, can I come in?

Without a word, Severus opened the door and let him inside. As Harry crossed the threshold, his eyes involuntarily wandered to the chair where he'd seen the mask and robe yesterday. It was empty.

"A bit late for a visit," Severus muttered, sitting down in his chair. Harry noticed a half-empty bottle of amber liquid on the table. "What was stopping you? Fear of Cruciatus?" The black eyes looked right through him and Harry shuddered.

Severus and his directness.

"N-no," he choked out. "I just... I didn't know if I could or--" Oh, to hell with it! "Listen..." Harry began, walking over to the other chair and plopping down in it, while being followed by that piercing gaze. "I know that--"

"Oh, forget it, Potter," Severus snorted. "I'm afraid I know exactly what you want to say. I know what you're doing and I don't want anything to do with you, right? The Golden Boy finally opened his eyes and realized who he was hanging out with." The man reached for the glass and took a few large sips.

Harry bristled.

"That's not what I wanted to say," he drawled. "And don't call me Golden Boy! I can't stand this."

"As our little illustriousness wishes," the man replied with a mocking snort and took another sip.

Then something dawned on Harry. Severus was drunk. Or he was close to that state. Well, sober Snape was a difficult conversationalist, but drunk was a whole new level of difficulty. Advanced.

He sighed and tried again.

"If you'll just let me have a word, I'll explain everything to you," he said, watching the man's reaction carefully, but Snape's face seemed completely expressionless. As if he didn't care. Or as if he was trying to make it look like it at all costs. "Don't judge me so hastily. It's true, I was scared at first, but then I thought about it a lot and I know that... you do it because you have to. I'm not a child anymore. I can understand some things. You are a spy and you must do what Voldemort tells you. I can also understand why you tried to hide it from me. And I think I could also understand if... if you did it on purpose. I mean..." He didn't know what he wanted to say, especially since something very unpleasant appeared in Severus's eyes. "I know that every person has his good and dark side, and sometimes one of them becomes stronger. But whichever is more, I want you to know that... I accept both." His own words surprised him, but probably not as much as it surprised Severus, whose eyebrows rose sharply, but Harry couldn't stop what was flowing out of his mouth anymore. "I also want you to know that no matter what you do or what happens... I will always be on your side. With you."

There was silence in the room. Severus was staring at him with a half-disbelieving, half-searching look, and Harry tried to hold the gaze that seemed to touch every nerve he had. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man broke his piercing gaze and drank his whiskey again.

"On my side? No matter what?" he snorted, and there was something very, very unpleasant in his voice, but Harry couldn't name it, even though his skin reacted with shivers crawling over it. "I've never heard such a bunch of lies in my life," he drawled icily.

Harry felt anger.

"These are not lies!" he denied with a raised voice. "I really think like that! But if you don't believe me, that's your problem."

"We'll see," Severus snorted. "I'll remind you about it when the time comes." He said it as if the whole situation was extremely amusing to him. As if Harry had told him some kind of joke and not just confessed something he had been thinking about non-stop for the last twenty-four hours and for which he needed a lot of courage and good will to say. Knowing this made something hurt inside him. Very much so.

"Why do you always have to be such a mean, stubborn, omniscient bastard?" Harry growled, fed up with this mocking tone.

"Because I don't think you realize what just you've said, boy!" Snape raised his voice, glaring at him so sharply that it almost hurt. "And because I can predict certain consequences and certain reactions, and believe me, there is no room for any acceptance of anything among them."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes.

"About life, Potter. About human choices. About emotions. Call it whatever you want. Now get out and leave me alone. I don't need your lofty assurances, whose only lasting feature is their naivety."

Oh no, he won't throw him away so quickly!

"Do you think you can get rid of me that easily? Do not even think about it!" Harry countered. "All right. Think what you want. I just wanted things to be like before between us. Don't act like you don't care." Well, he might as well make it clear. "Let's not argue anymore. Please."

"If you call that an argument, you've probably never been in one before," Severus muttered, looking into the fire and taking another, smaller sip of alcohol this time.

"Oh, was that remark intended to provoke or insult me?" Harry asked teasingly, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"What do you think?" The man gave him an indefinite look.

"I think both." Harry smiled.

"I'm glad you think sometimes," Severus replied, slightly lifting the corners of his mouth, and Harry felt an indefinite warmth in his heart. He missed this.

And he missed him.

Suddenly he felt an overwhelming desire to touch him, hug him, feel his closeness. Severus hadn't shown him any affectionate gesture in so long.

He got up and was at the man's side in a flash. He leaned down to hug him and sit on his lap, but at the same moment Snape jumped up, pushing Harry's hands away and moved towards the cabinet, completely ignoring him.

Harry was left alone by the green armchair, feeling as if something had pierced his heart. He felt as if all his fears had come true. He knew something was wrong and the certainty stung him. Extremely painful.

"What happened?" he asked in a strangled voice. "Why are you avoiding me? Why are you running away from me?"

Severus didn't turn around. He reached for another bottle of alcohol at the bar.

"What nonsense are you talking about again, Potter?" he asked in a mocking tone. It seemed that he wanted to ridicule Harry at all costs. "You must have too vivid imagination, because you see things that don't exist. You can shake hands with Miss Lovegood then."

Harry felt the frustration that had been building in him over the past few days, with Snape clearly avoiding him and now that he was so blatantly telling him that Harry had made it all up, something started to boil inside him.

When he opened his mouth, his voice was seething with rage, cutting the air into tiny pieces. "Do you think I'm an idiot?! Do you think I haven't noticed how you treat me? Do you think I haven't notice how you avoid closeness, don't want to hug me, don't even want to look at me in a way that's not filled with mockery? Do you think I haven't noticed that everything had changed? I just don't understand why. What happened? I want you to explain it to me!"

Severus turned around slowly, and if Harry hadn't been so furious, the man's gaze would have taken all his courage and his breath away.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, Potter," he said, his voice so icy that Harry felt as if ice crystals appeared in the air. "Didn't it occur to you that I might just not feel like it?"

Harry felt his anger rising even more, crawling over his skin and making his clenched fists tremble.

"And who's telling a bunch of lies here?!" Harry almost screamed, but he couldn't control it anymore. This whole situation was getting out of control and Severus clearly didn't care. "Unless you decide to explain it to me, I have nothing to look for here. Let me know when you decide." He turned around, angrily grabbed his cloak from the backrest and moved towards the exit.

"Come back immediately, Potter!" the man roared, and Harry almost stumbled. He had never heard such fury in Snape's voice before.

He stopped and looked around. Severus was standing at the bar, gripping the glass in his hand with such force that he was close to crushing it. He was glaring at Harry so murderously, blinding with the flames coming from him, as if he was trying to crush him with it too.

"I didn't let you leave," the man hissed in a voice in which crackling logs of anger burned away the last of his patience. "Sit down!"

Harry hesitated. He was shaking with anger, but he was even more afraid of what Severus might do to him if he didn't listen. His stomach still hurt a little from their last fight, and the man seemed to be in such a state that he could do anything.

He turned around and fell heavily into the chair. Snape seemed to calm down a bit. The fingers gripping the glass relaxed a little. His gaze turned from burning to icy. The furrowed eyebrows smoothed out a bit. He took a sip and stared at Harry with an indefinite look that the boy couldn't read. It was as if the man had walled himself off and Harry couldn't break through it.

So he was just sitting and waiting for any word from him, but none came. Time was passing, the soft crackle of the fire in the fireplace seemed to cut the time into small, uneven pieces.

Harry was staring at Severus tensely, waiting for a blow, for a caress, for anything, and the anxiety in his heart was growing with every moment. He didn't know why he had to sit there or what was going to happen next. He wished Severus would finally do something, because this uncertainty was tearing his insides apart.

After about fifteen minutes, Severus moved, making Harry almost jump in his seat. The man slowly put the glass down on the table and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. When he looked back at Harry, his eyes were shining with something like... dark satisfaction?

"Your detention has just ended, Mr. Potter. You can leave."

Harry's eyes widened. He couldn't believe what he heard... How could he? How could he? treat him in such an objectifying way? After all...?

He knew those words were only meant to hurt him, he could see it in the nasty smirk on the man's lips.

He knew also, that if he stayed here even a moment longer, he might do or say something he would regret for the rest of his life.

He jumped up from the chair, grabbed his cloak and ran out of the room, slamming the door with all his might. He didn't look back, he didn't bother putting on his cloak. He burst into the corridor and ran forward, wanting to get away, wanting to escape this overwhelming feeling of disappointment, this consuming rage and mind-numbing pain.

He ran up the stairs to the ground floor and then to the first floor, drawing his wand as he went. He aimed at the first statue he came across and threw a spell at it, intensified by the fury bursting through it, which blew it to pieces. Dust and rock fragments flew in all directions, some hitting him in the face, but he didn't care. It wasn't enough. He aimed at all the larger pieces one by one, breaking them into smaller and smaller pieces, letting anger guide his every step, every gesture, every word. With wet, blurry vision, he grabbed a larger piece and furiously started banging it against the wall. He wanted to scream, kick, bite.

The stone crumbled in his hand and cut it. Harry screamed in pain and dropped the sharp pieces that pierced his skin. He looked at his hand. It was bleeding.

Just like his...

"Well, well, well... Looks like you're in big trouble, Mr. Potter..." he heard a familiar, croaking voice behind him.

He turned his tearful face and looked resignedly at Filch standing in the corridor.

Trouble? Truth be told, he didn't care at all...

 

***

The Caretaker took Harry to McGonagall's office with vindictive satisfaction. The head of the house was shocked by Harry's behavior, but when he started mumbling something about the letter from Lupin, the memories of Sirius' death, and the breakdown that caused him to lose control and... do what he did, McGonagall's fury quickly turned into compassion. Harry felt guilty for lying like that, but he had to come up with something. Filch, of course, demanded the most severe punishment provided for in the code, i.e. chaining and whipping him, but the Gryffindor Head of House asked him to leave and said that she would take care of her student herself. As the Caretaker disappeared out the door, muttering something under his breath, she told Harry that she understood him and that she didn't blame him, although trashing the school wasn't the best way to get rid of resentment. Unfortunately, she had to give him detention, after all, those were the rules, but she chose something calm and not too tiring. Tomorrow after lunch he was supposed to sort the parchments in the classroom where Ancient Runes were taught. She also stated that if he wanted to talk about his worries, he could always turn to her. Harry thanked her quietly and left the office.

It seemed to him that the path from the vice-Headmistress' office to Gryffindor Tower had never been so long. Harry was walking unsteadily, barely shuffling his feet and staring dejectedly at the floor. Shards of stones broke his glasses, but he doesn't bother fixing it now. He didn't care about that. Truth be told, he didn't care about anything at the moment. The pain in his wounded and bandaged hand intensified with each step. He should have gone to the Hospital Wing, like McGonagall had told him before he left, but he didn't want to. After all, it was at least part of a distraction from the pain he felt inside.

He felt as if every step he took was leading him closer to the abyss. Distant words echoed in his head.

There is no room for any acceptance of anything... I'll remind you of this... I can predict certain reactions...

Was that what he meant? Did he want to show Harry how wrong he was? That he really doesn't know shit? Or did he just want to show Harry how cruel he could be? As if Harry didn't already know that...

He sighed deeply and winced when he felt a painful twinge in his chest. He couldn't understand it. He tried, he really tried many times, but some of Severus' behavior still remained a mystery to him.

Why was the man moving away from him? It hurt to know that, so much so that Harry had difficulty breathing. Because he knew how much effort it took to bring Severus closer to him. What could have happened? What could have changed so suddenly?

He only suspected it had to do with something beyond their relationship. This was the only explanation that made sense.

He looked at his hand. Blood had already soaked through the makeshift bandage, but he had no intention of trying to block it again.

Just like a hemorrhage coming from the heart.

...it's all about whether you want and can hurt someone...

Well, when it comes to Severus Snape, the answer to that question was all too obvious at this point...

***

When Harry woke up the next morning, he felt as if someone had hit him on the head with something heavy during the night. Everything hurt him, but probably his lecerative with shatters hand hurt the most. When he dragged himself to his dorm yesterday, he just fell onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

He got out of bed, picked up his broken glasses, quickly repaired them, put them on his nose and went to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and groaned when he saw a huge bruise under his left eye and several scratches on his cheeks. Well, it didn't look too good... Maybe he should really go to Madam Pomfrey. He'll do it after breakfast.

He unwrapped the bandage from his hand and looked at the deep cuts on his skin. The dried blood was almost black. He carefully placed his hand under a stream of cold water and washed it, then wrapped it again with the bloody bandage. Unfortunately, he didn't have a clean one, and he didn't want to waste energy on whitening it.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror again. He had dark circles under his eyes and pale skin. The result of lack of sleep or nerves? Probably both.

He promised himself that he wouldn't think about what happened yesterday. He must put this out of his mind. Entirely. Because even one single memory could be too much of a blow, and now he was too weak to defend himself against it.

He took a quick shower, changed and went down for breakfast. Almost everyone was already sitting at the table. Snape too. Even from a distance, Harry could hear the lively chatter, laughter and hushed conversations. Without saying a word or looking at anyone, he walked over to the table and sat down next to Luna, directly across from Professor McGonagall.

At the same time the noise suddenly stopped and there was a deafening silence around him.

Harry raised his head and looked around, surprised by the sudden silence. Everyone stared at him with curiosity and fear at the same time.

Oh, he certainly couldn't look that scary, could he?

"What happened, Harry?" Luna asked in a whisper, breaking the unnatural silence. Harry felt the eyes of all the teachers and students on him. Even Dumbledore, sitting next to McGonagall, was looking at him with concern. However, none of these glances were as intense as the gaze of Severus, sitting two seats away from McGonagall. The man's gaze almost seemed to burn, and Harry could clearly feel it moving over his skin, burning it and leaving marks. However, he could not determine what kind of marks they were.

Harry looked down, feeling an unpleasant knot in his stomach. Everyone looked at him like he was some kind of misfit. Again.

"Dear child..." Professor Vector said. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror today?"

"Exuce me, Saptima, but this is only Mr. Potter's business," McGonagall interrupted her, then looked around the table, turning to everyone: "Mr. Potter had a small accident yesterday and I'd like ask all of you to not asks him about what had happened, because no one should care," she said, then addressed the nurse "Poppy, I'd like you to take care of Mr. Potter after the breakfast."

Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry muttered quietly. The vice-Headmistress gave him a reassuring look, then leaned over to Dumbledore and whispered something in his ear. The Headmaster nodded in confirmation and looked at Harry with compassion in his light blue eyes. Gryffindor's stomach twisted and he had to turn his head quickly. He didn't want sympathy, he didn't need it.

His eyes involuntarily fell on Severus. The man was staring at him almost desperately, and Harry felt a sudden, painful pang in his heart. Snape looked as if he had completely forgotten where he was, as if he had forgotten that he was in the Great Hall, surrounded by other teachers and students. His pupils were unnaturally dilated, although his eyelids were closed and his eyebrows were furrowed. He opened his mouth as if to ask Harry something, but then he seemed to remember where he was and quickly closed it. His fork landed on the plate, making a sharp, ringing sound, then bouncing off the plate and falling to the floor. Its buzzing could be heard on the stone slabs for some time. However, the man seemed completely unconcerned that all eyes had moved away from Harry and rested on him.

"Severus, for Merlin's sake, you might want to be a little careful," Professor Flitwick muttered croakily, sitting right next to him. "Next time you might stick it in my eye."

The Potions Master didn't answer. He didn't seem to hear him at all. He had difficulty tearing his stinging gaze away from Harry, who saw a clear, sharp flash of anger in the dark irises as the man turned his head and stared at the distant wall, sliding his much too tightly clenched and... trembling fists off the table.

Harry blinked, wondering if he's seen it right and what it could possibly mean? Was Snape still mad at him? But it was Harry who should be mad at the man! Meanwhile, it looked like this stuck-up, greasy-haired bastard... couldn't even stay at the same table as Harry Potter for five minutes!

Harry gritted his teeth, trying to control the sudden surge of anger and regret.

No, he won't pay attention to him. He couldn't let Severus Snape rob him of his appetite. Luna, sitting next to him, smiled at him in a friendly manner, but he sensed concern lurking behind her smile. He tried to make nice, typical conversation with her, but he just couldn't. Not now. Not in the presence of Snape, who was only two meters away on the other side of the table, sitting so stiffly as if he had swallowed a broomstick and clearly not intending to finish his meal.

Harry really tried not to pay attention to him, but he couldn't help it when his eyes kept moving towards the dark figure, even if each time he felt like something unpleasant was stirring in his stomach.

Cutting rock-hard bacon wasn't an easy task, especially when you only had one hand. Harry tried to somehow place the knife in his right hand, wrapped in a bloody bandage, but each time he only winced in pain. The fork, on the other hand, was too blunt to help him. After another failed attempt, he huffed in frustration and was about to push the bacon aside, accepting that he probably wouldn't eat it, when the food on his plate suddenly and incredibly, broke into chewy pieces. He blinked, completely taken aback, and looked around the table for his silent assistant, but everyone seemed completely engrossed in either eating or talking.

Except for one person.

Severus quickly looked away and made a movement as if he was pocketing something, then looked back at the wall.

Harry bit his lip and looked at his plate. He didn't know what to think about it.

Did Severus help him because he really wanted to help him, or to show his contempt for him and make fun of his limited manual skills?

Well, both possibilities were plausible enough to be considered.

Harry sighed. No matter the intentions, he decided not to think about them at the moment because he was really hungry.

At the end of the breakfast, McGonagall leaned over to him and said "Please come to me after the lunch, Mr. Potter, so I can give you the key to the Ancient Runes classroom."

Harry nodded and almost immediately felt Snape's intense gaze on him as the man tore it from the wall and stared at him. The wall seemed to handle it better, though, because Harry doubted it also felt the cold shivers running through it.

Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, but he promised himself that he wouldn't pay attention to the man, and so he did. He didn't look at him even once until the end of breakfast, and right after that he got up and went with Madam Pomfrey to the Hospital Wing, feeling the gaze of ebony eyes on his back. The nurse healed his bruises and applied ointment to his hand. Judging by the smell, it was exactly the same ointment that Severus had smeared on his legs that other day. This memory was extremely pleasant, but in the current circumstances it only brought pain.

No, he wasn't supposed to think about it!

As soon as he got out of the hospital, something happened that he half expected but was also afraid of. He felt warmth in his pocket.

A message from Severus.

He fought with himself for a moment. He didn't want to read it. To tell you the truth, he had already considered leaving a stone in the dormitory, but somehow... he couldn't do it. What if something important happened?

However, curiosity won. He reached into his pocket and read the message.

Potter, I would like you to come to my chambers now. I'm waiting for you. Could you come?

Harry's eyes widened. For Severus, it was almost a plea.

He felt a pleasant warmth of satisfaction spread in his heart. So Snape did regret what he did... Good, now let him feel what it's like...

He clenched the jewel in his hand and sent back.

I don't remember having detention with you today, so I don't know why I should come to you, Professor.

He couldn't stop the smug smile that spread across his lips. Even if deep inside he felt absolute emptiness.

Snape had hurt him too much. It will take some time for whatever was torn inside him to put it back into the same shape again.

 

***

Snape wasn't at lunch, which Harry was relieved to hear. After the meal, McGonagall gave him the key and told him that unfortunately his detention need to last no less than two hours, so if he finish everything, he should just sit there and wait for the time to pass.

Harry nodded and slowly made his way to the second floor. To tell you the truth, he had never been in this classroom before. All the walls were covered with charts and boards with some strange symbols on them. As he walked along them, looking at them, he remembered the book he had seen in Severus' secret laboratory. Maybe if he remembered what the symbols looked like, he would be able to find something here that would help him understand the meaning of those symbols. He walked to the back of the classroom, to the lockers where the scrolls were stacked. Each of them had some letters and numbers on them, but from what he saw, everything was mixed together. He took the first scroll he could find and after a few moments he managed to sort it out and put it in the appropriate compartment. He sighed deeply. He had some work ahead of him. Maybe it would be better to just throw them all on the floor and sort them out? Otherwise, the well-arranged ones will mix with the others and later it will be difficult to distinguish them.

That's exactly what he did. He spent several minutes moving scrolls from the cabinets to the nearest desk, being careful not to drop any of them. He didn't how old they were. When he'd finished, he took each scroll one by one and tried to match the numbers and letters on it to those above the compartments. After a particularly capricious piece of parchment, for which he had been looking the exact place for probably three minutes, he turned to take another one and... he dropped it back on the counter, jumping back as if he had been scalded.

Severus was standing right next to the desk, looking at him with that inscrutable, piercing look. He looked like a statue, proud and tall, carved from black marble or ebony.

How come Harry didn't hear him enter? The man must have obviously cast a silencing spell on the door.

Harry quickly looked away, fixing his eyes on the pile of parchments lying on the counter. His heart sped up rapidly. He was afraid of this meeting. He didn't want to see Severus, not yet. It was all too fresh... Why did he have to come here? Why couldn't he leave him alone for once? Why did he always follow him...?

"Potter..." Snape's voice was a bit hoarse, although Harry could still hear the sharp edge in it. As if the words the man was about to say didn't want to pass through his throat. "My behavior yesterday was inappropriate and reprehensible. I had a little too much to drink and... I said some things that might have offended you."

Inappropriate? Offended? What an euphemistic terms...

"Don't pretend you care," Harry muttered quietly, not looking up. "I don't believe a word you say. I'm sure you'd love to do it again just to hit me where it hurts the most and then feel the satisfaction of having managed to trample me into the ground once again!" At the end he was almost screaming. He raised his head and looked at the man with a hurt look, trembling with suppressed anger. Severus, however, didn't seem affected by his outburst. He looked at him in a consistently passive way, as if examining him and judging him.

"What a drama..." he finally said, moving and taking a step towards Harry. The boy stepped back, scared. He didn't want Snape to touch him. Certainly not now, when he felt like he was going to explode. "What a show... You love to make yourself look like a victim, Potter," he continued in a low, vibrating voice, walking slowly towards Harry, who was retreating further and further. "You love playing the role of the wronged, misunderstood boy. You exaggerate everything to such an extent that you can no longer control it. You love to wallow in your grief and bitterness, reliving everything over and over again, feeling even more pain each time."

"It's not true!" Harry shouted, because it felt as if Snape's every word hit straight into his soul, stripping it of all protection. He had to stop when he felt the wall behind him on the other side of the room.

"I'll tell you something, Potter..." Severus didn't stop talking and didn't stop moving closer. "You can't live without this pain. Without this overwhelming sorrow that follows you like a shadow. You're always looking for it, and when it comes, you wrap it around you like a cocoon and close yourself off from everything, experiencing it with every nerve of your body, exhaling it in every breath, in every word you speak." Severus was already with him. So close that they were almost touching. "But I would like you to forget about all that sorrow at this moment." The man leaned over him, surrounding him with his scent and hiding him in his shadow. "I wish we were here alone, without it. Just you and me."

Harry was staring at the focused, furrowed face of the man so close to his own. He saw sparks in the black eyes, and he shuddered when Severus grabbed his hand and guide it towards the man's robes. Harry's fingers touched hot, smooth flesh and Harry inhaled sharply as he realized what it was. He tightened his hand around the man's semi-hard erection, feeling bitterness rising in his throat.

"Come on," he heard a whisper close to his ear.

Swallowing bile, Harry slowly started to stroke the man's hardening cock. Snape's penis was getting harder and harder under his touch, Harry could feel the heat coming from it and the blood flowing in veins along the shaft. It was pulsating and growing in his small hand. Just like the bitterness spreading in his heart.

His green eyes were trembling as he looked up at Snape's face, inches from his own, now tightened in an expression of pleasure and satisfaction. He met the gaze of narrowed black eyes focused on him, filled with perfidious satisfaction.

"Why are you like this?" he asked suddenly, and the tone of his voice surprised even him. There was no regret in it, rather emptiness and resignation. "Why do you treat me like this? I... I'd do anything for you and you know it. So why do you only give me... these bleeding wounds in return?" Severus groaned and leaned his forearms against the wall on either side of Harry's head, pressing against him and thrusting his hips as if to tell him to do it harder. "No one will ever want you like I do. No one will ever look at you like I do. Don't you understand this?" Harry continued, his voice heavy with bitterness. He didn't know why he was saying it, he couldn't stop. He felt as if the words were flowing out of his mouth. "When you treated me like a random student yesterday... do you know how I felt? Shall I tell you about it?"

"Faster," Severus panted, glaring at Harry even hotter, even more intensely. As if the boy's words only fueled his arousal.

The foreskin of the man's heated penis was sliding under the boy's fingers. Harry swallowed through the burning, dry throat and moved his hand faster. He bit his lip for a moment, trying to control the debilitating shiver that ran through his body. Snape's cock was already so hard, so filled with bloodshot, that it could barely fit in Harry's hand.

Harry wonder what the man was going to say about this...

He gritted his teeth and reached out with his other, bandaged hand, placing it on the shiny, red head.

Severus bit his lip and a strangled grunt escaped his lips as Harry, wincing slightly in pain, began to caress the moist tip of the increasingly quivering erection with his injured hand.

Judging by the reaction, Snape seemed to like it. Harry didn't expect this. He couldn't imagine that it was possible to feel such pleasure directly from someone else's suffering. But it was Severus. It didn't seem to bother him at all, quite the opposite. He seemed to like it. He seemed to derive almost sadistic pleasure from it.

Harry bit his lip, struggling to hold back the wave of bitterness that rolled down his throat.

"Or maybe you want to hear about something else?" he asked in a quiet, hoarse voice, swallowing the dry sob that was scratching at his throat. "Shall I tell you about how I broke a statue and its fragments cut my entire face, but I didn't feel it at all because the pain was so strong that it completely drowned out the physical suffering? Shall I tell you about it?" He squeezed the throbbing, glowing erection tighter.

An anguished growl escaped the man's lips "Potter..."

"Or maybe you'll tell me how it feels when you treat me like that?" Harry continued, stroking even faster and with slightly blurry eyes watching the grimace of indescribable pleasure on Severus' face. "How do you enjoy punching me and watching me writhe in pain? How much satisfaction do you get when you humiliate me and watch me fall? Why don't you tell me about how you love hurting me?"

After these words, a heartrending moan escaped Snape's mouth. His penis twitched in Harry's hand and shot out streams of sticky white liquid that settled on the boy's robe. Harry watched as the man's eyelids closed, his eyebrows tightened, and his face smoothed as the wave of pleasure flowed through his entire body. Severus gritted his teeth and almost crushed Harry into the wall, pressing on the boy's hands wrapped around his erection as if he wanted to feel it even deeper, even more intensely. He trembled for a few moments, completely giving in to the overwhelming orgasm, then opened his eyes and focused his frantic gaze on Harry. He raised his hand and touched the boy's cheek gently.

Harry stiffened. He wanted to move his head back, but there was nowhere to go because he was completely pressed against the wall, but even despite the scent of Severus surrounding him, despite the coolness of that tall body pressed against him and the hot, pulsating cock that he still held in his hands... he felt empty. He felt only cold emptiness.

"Potter..." Severus' voice reached him as if from behind the glass. Harry heard nothing but ringing in his ears and he felt dizzy. Everything was wrong. Absolutely wrong.

"Can I be alone now?" he whispered quietly, turning his head to the side. "I'm busy. I have to..."

He couldn't finish, however, as the man's strong hands grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the wall above his head, while a black-clad knee slid brutally between his thighs and pressed into his groin. Harry grimaced and groaned. He tried to free his hands, but he had no chance. Severus was too strong. With a manic, almost painful desire evident on his face, he began to rub his knee against Harry's balls and cock trapped in his pants.

"Stop it," Harry moaned, standing on his tiptoes and trying to escape that strong, way too strong touch. "I don't feel like it."

"Don't resist it. Don't resist me..." Snape whispered silkily, rubbing his knee even harder against his groin. "Relax and surrender." He leaned even closer and placed his lips right next to Harry's ear. He stuck out his tongue and gently licked the soft petal. The chills that ran through Harry's body almost melted his muscles. Just like the voice he heard after a while "I want to feel your orgasm."

Harry groaned and closed his eyes as painful heat began to spread in his lower abdomen. His muscles relaxed on their own and his cock hardened almost immediately. He couldn't stop it.

How was it possible that he always reacted this way to that voice?

"Perfect," Severus said quietly. He was no longer just rubbing against him with his knee, but with his entire slim, tall, cold body. Harry could feel his hard muscles, the herbal-spicy scent seeping through his robes, and the sparks flowing between them.

Snape was pressing hard against the head of his cock, pressing and abusing it, and Harry wanted to do nothing but squirm and whimper as the pleasurable currents ran from it throughout his quivering body.

"Severus, please stop?" His words turned into another moan as the man's knee pressed even harder into his groin, crushing his balls and slowly squeezing the orgasm from his throbbing erection.

"Moan my name. Once again."

Harry closed his eyes and rested his head on the hard stones behind. He didn't want to do this. His body stopped listening to him a long time ago, but fortunately he still had some control over his mouth. He opened them abruptly and inhaled greedily when one of Snape's hands released his wrist and clamped down hard on his groin, brutally digging his fingers into his testicles and his twitching erection.

"Aaah, Severus..." he whimpered hoarsely, almost jumping and sliding against the wall. However, the man quickly grabbed his free wrist again, pinning him to the wall and keeping him upright.

"That's right," he murmured with dark satisfaction. He was so close to him now... Harry felt every protruding bone of the man's slender body, every fold of his robe pressing into his skin, the sense-depriving touch of a slim, strong knee and he was so damn... almost...

"Give it to me. Give me your orgasm..." he heard a needy, commanding voice right next to his ear, which hit his loins and ignited the arsenal of exploding pleasure there. Harry came, moaning and whimpering loudly, his body trembling so much that he feared he would fall to pieces.

After a few moments of the overwhelming sensation melting his muscles and turning his mind to a howling mush of euphoria, Snape's knee slides out from between his thighs and he falls forward onto the man, breathing heavily and trying to regain control of his body. Severus released his wrists and Harry lifted his head, struggling to open his eyes. The moment he looked into that face radiating with satisfaction, just a few centimeters from his own face, he could only do one thing.

At this point he didn't care anymore.

He lunged forward, wrapped his arms around Snape's neck and desperately pressed his lips against the thin, pursed lips. He clung to Severus with his whole body with such strength, as if he wanted to break all the barriers that the man had spread around himself. He didn't think about what he was doing, he just wanted to leave his mark on him. Harry was sucking and biting his lips even though the man's mouth remained closed. He was biting them and crushing them with his own lips. He was devouring them, purring and groaning softly into them, and whenever Severus tried to move his head away, Harry pressed against it even harder, more greedily, suffocating him in its grip.

Finally, however, when the blood pulsing in his head subsided slightly, his heart stopped beating out of his chest, and the first rays of consciousness slowly began to break through his foggy mind... he tore his burning lips away from the man's equally battered lips and took a breath. He slowly opened his eyes and looked into the shooting flames that were millimeters from his own eyes. He couldn't read their expressions exactly, but he could see the glow in their bottomless depths. A distant, distant glow that grew closer with every second, grew larger, became brighter.

There was a velvety silence around. Two ragged breaths whispered between each other. Warm breezes blew across Harry's face. Something moved. One of Severus' hands tangled in Harry's hair and tilted his face slightly to the side. When his heart almost jumped into his throat, he felt a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. Severus' lips were warm, throbbing... and they were so smooth...

After a moment, they broke away, moved up a little and placed another kiss just below his right eye. Harry let his eyelids close and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

The next kiss touched his right temple. It stayed there for a long time, as if Severus was tasting the warm, pulsating skin there.

Severus tore his lips away and moved them even higher to kiss... the scar. Gently and almost hesitantly, but the sensation was so incredible that Harry didn't know if it was real or just a figment of his imagination, because at that exact moment he felt the heat spreading from it. His body began to tremble uncontrollably, it felt as if electricity was flowing through it. For one tiny fraction of a second he felt a painful sting and saw a series of flashing images. He couldn't stop or remember them, but he thought he saw some dark green liquid, the face of Voldemort, Dumbledore, Snape and his own.

However, everything disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and after a while Harry wondered if he had really seen it or if he had imagined something. He could still feel Severus' hot lips pressed against his scar and he felt like he was going to melt at the touch.

He sighed softly when the man finally removed his mouth from his skin, blowing his soft, warm breath over it. Harry squeezed his eyes tighter and allowed Severus' hand to pull his face to the black torso. He felt the man wrap his other arm around his neck and envelop him in a warm hug, burying his face in Harry's hair.

They stood there for a long time, without saying a word, hugging each other in the warmth and silence surrounding them.

And it seemed that, at least for that one moment... everything was fine.

 

* "All because of you" by Saliva
**"Sometimes" by Skillet