Author: Diagonalist
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: SS/HP
Warnings: child abuse, depression, suicidal tendancies
Summary: Devoid of the will to live, Harry decides that it is simply time to end it all. Too bad for him that one of his professors had to come and screw it up.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I am simply borrowing them; therefore, do not sue me.
Chapter 22: Where One Line Ends
Snape got very little done over the next few hours, as Harry napped. He couldn't remember having opened up to someone so much since.... He could never remember opening up to someone this much. Perhaps it was because the boy seemed to share the same pain. As he had explained himself to Harry, something he had never stooped to do for anyone else, he had seen true empathy in those eyes. It had moved him more than he cared to admit.
There was no way that Harry could go back to Gryffindor Tower, look what a few days of staying with them had done to him. The little voice inside his head asked if Harry would be so much better off with him, when he was the one who had pushed him into cutting again. He told it angrily that it had been a mistake, an accident. He reminded it that during the holidays, Harry had been improving markedly, and it was with the start of school that he had appeared to withdraw again. His inner voice conceded the point, but told him to be nice to the boy. There was little point in arguing with himself when that was his plan anyway.
He reached for a book and ignored the grumbling of his inner voice. What did it know anyway? He would have to talk to Albus, and explain that he thought Harry needed a few days without the pressures of the world surrounding him. Severus wouldn't be able to leave him alone though, so he would have to cancel his classes. He really didn't want to do that. He glanced back at the bed.
Harry needed him.
He would cancel the classes.
He was just contemplating waking Harry up to eat when Albus walked through the door. It really irritated him that Albus never knocked, and never seemed to need passwords. It was however, convenient that he had shown up just when Severus needed to speak to him. Unless that was why he had come. That would be another annoying example of the headmaster's tendency of knowing everything. Which had been sadly lacking in respect to Harry's person recently.
"Severus." the headmaster greeted him. He merely nodded in acknowledgement, trying to be quiet as he wanted to allow the boy as much rest as possible. He saw Harry stir from the corner of his eye and knew that his hope was in vain.
"Severus, Voldemort's attack has started." The urgent tone of Albus' voice suddenly made sense, and Snape felt every muscle in his body tense, in anticipation of what would come next. "I'm leading a team out there now. I need you to stay here and watch Harry." Severus felt his face darken with his mood. "Now, Severus, this is not done merely to stop you from going. I honestly need you to take care of Harry." The headmaster's voice turned sad, "I doubt that there is anyone else who can anymore. He can stay with you until further notice."
Albus turned to leave. As he passed through the door, he said "And yes, I will come to you as soon as I get back."
****************
Severus was peripherally aware of Harry getting out of bed and walking up behind him, but was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't react.
A hand tugging lightly on his sleeve brought his attention back to the present. Back to Harry. Who was looking at him timidly, but stayed where he was as Snape's gaze swung round to fix on him.
"Are you alright sir?"
Severus himself, though frustrated by how the headmaster managed it, was very rarely surprised either. Harry seemed to be very skilled at getting past his guard. He couldn't recall the last time someone had inquired after his well-being, except for Albus, and that was always in a 'you are the only spy we have, did they cripple you too badly or can you go on' way. Why was Harry being so nice to him after the way that he had behaved to him, after the pain he had caused him?
"Yes." That sounded woefully inadequate. "Thank you. Would you like something to eat?"
His tactic at trying to divert the boy's attention seemed to work, for Harry's nose scrunched up in distaste and he muttered that he wasn't hungry.
Snape merely raised an eyebrow. Just who was in charge round here? Harry surrendered, though with ill grace. Severus thought that sitting at the table might be off-putting, and he wanted to keep the formality to a minimum, to encourage Harry to trust him again, so they ate on the couch. Sandwiches, crisps and salad. Then cookies. Snape had rightly guessed that such food would go down better than soup. Pomfrey's insistence of feeding everyone, no matter what the injury, with soup, brought about bad associations. And Harry really needed to eat.
He sensed that Harry didn't feel like talking, so they sat and read for a while, Sylrissin's sporadic hissing the only sound interrupting them. Severus felt himself becoming restless. He wanted to know what was going on out there!
For the first time he felt trapped in the dungeons. He needed to look out of a window, even though the events he longed to see were hundreds of miles away, he had never felt so disconnected from the world.
Harry seemed to notice the change in Severus' mood, for he looked up, and placed his book aside, indicating his willingness to talk, though obviously still too shy, and sceptical about trusting in Snape's changed attitude, to risk initiating a conversation.
Severus smiled at him. "Would you like to play chess?"
Harry nodded readily, then paused in thought. "I'm not really any good though." he said hesitantly.
"Then I can help you improve."
Snape went into his bedroom and found his old chess set in the cupboard. It was dusty. It was so long since he had had anyone to play with, Albus always used his own board, and he always won. Severus was convinced he cheated.
He saw that Harry handled the ancient and beautifully carved pieces with awe, until one of the knights snapped at him and started making suggestive comments about why he was playing with the pawns. Harry blushed bright red, and hastily replaced the piece on the board.
"Don't mind them." Severus said, just managing to keep his laughter in check. he offered Harry the choice of colours, and they started.
Harry really wasn't any good at chess. Even though Snape was distracted by thoughts of the battle he was easily beating him. Giving the boy tips to help him win was against Severus' nature, but he tried. Sylrissin was evidently trying too, for she was continuously talking to Harry. Snape became so lost in listening to their conversation, that he made a careless move, and left his queen open to attack. Harry didn't notice, and was about to move somewhere else, when the silver snake started talking to him again. He looked down at her, then at the board. Then he took Snape's queen.
Severus could still the win game of course. But it was unlike him to make such a mistake. He could blame it on the worry about the fighting, but...
"What is it like?"
Harry seemed surprised at the question, and his face took on a puzzled look.
"Parseltongue, I mean." Severus clarified, "What is it like being a parselmouth?"
Harry appeared to think for a moment. Snape was surprised that he was not internally thinking about how rare an occurrence Harry thinking was. Maybe that kind of reaction in him vanished with Potter.
"I don't know. I didn't even know I was speaking a different language until Hermione and Ron told me so. I thought everyone could do it. It just comes naturally."
Severus was forcefully reminded of the boy's upbringing. That he could have been so ignorant of so many things in the wizarding world was astonishing. He had been as ignorant as a muggle. Yet managed to get along fine anyway.
"So it sounds just like someone talking to you in English?"
"Well, sort of. There are faint undertones of something. Ummm. I suppose I can hear hissing overlaid on top of the words, but I don't notice it so much. It's kind of hard to explain."
Snape nodded, accepting this, then used the opportunity to try and casually bring up a subject which had been bothering him for some time.
"I'm somewhat surprised that the Sorting Hat didn't place you in Slytherin, considering your talents."
Harry shrugged, uncertainty playing over his features. "Well, it wanted to. It said I would do well in Slytherin. It said that being in Slytherin would help me to greatness."
"So why aren't you in Slytherin then?"
"I asked it not to put me there." A small sigh, then, less audibly, "Sometimes I think I made the wrong choice."
"My house not good enough for you then?" was the wry question.
"No," said hurriedly, "It wasn't that. Or maybe it was. See, all I had heard about, from Hagrid and Ron, was how awful it was, and how every wizard that went dark came from Slytherin. How Voldemort came from Slytherin. And I'd just learned...that he had killed my parents. I wanted to think that my parents would have been proud of me. They were in Gryffindor. So I thought it was a good place to be. And Ron had said he thought he was going to be there. And he was my first friend."
That was the most the boy had said all day. At least he seemed to be relaxing, even if the subject wasn't one he seemed entirely comfortable with. So, Harry had gone into Gryffindor to please others, rather than himself. It was the sort of thing he would do. And it had led to the Potter persona.
"Why do you think you made the wrong choice?"
"I don't know. I suppose I don't think that. Gryffindor's great." A few moments of silence. "There are just some things that they don't seem to understand, like we exist on two completely different levels, like there's a chasm between us that stops us from communicating properly. Sometimes I think that they don't understand me at all."
"Like now." Severus said in understanding. "What you are going through is not something that they could relate to. Yes, you might have done better in Slytherin after all."
Sylrissin hissed loudly. They both turned to see what was wrong with her. She bared her fangs and reared up. Severus was so busy considering her odd behaviour that he almost missed it when Harry slumped in his chair. He turned back, and was just reaching out to the boy when Harry started screaming. Snape drew back automatically, then pulled himself together and leaned in. It sounded like one of Harry's visions, but he had been awake a second ago.
He pulled Harry's hair aside. The scar was streaming with blood.
And Harry's eyes were open.
Severus nearly flinched away again in shock, but controlled himself. He held Harry's hand tightly with one of his own while he used the other to wipe away the blood before it could run into the boy's eyes. There had never been so much blood before.
Abruptly, Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fainted.
Snape picked up the prone body and carried him to the bed. He needed to talk to Albus about this, and fast. He was in front of the fireplace when he remembered where the headmaster was. He growled to himself and went back to tend to Harry. He grabbed a wet cloth, and wiped away the blood from Harry's forehead.
He dropped the cloth on the floor as his fingers became numb.
Harry's scar was gone.
He pulled up his own sleeve, and saw that the dark mark was rapidly fading. He could feel it tingling slightly, but hadn't noticed before in his concern for Harry's state.
Harry's scar was gone. The dark mark was gone. But that meant....
Albus walked in the door, looking haggard and weary. Snape looked up at him, disbelieving even the evidence of his own eyes.
The headmaster seemed to know exactly what he was thinking though.
"Yes, Severus," he said gently, "Voldemort is dead."
How could that be? Snape felt the world spin slightly at the sheer shock which overwhelmed him. Dead.
Voldemort was dead.
Albus continued, somewhat less triumphantly, "And so is the man who killed him. Severus...."
Snape had a sudden premonition. He sank to the floor. "No!" he whispered.
"Severus, it was Simion. He is dead. I am so sorry, my dear boy"
And Voldemort was dead.
TBC
