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 34: Perceiving Change
Severus waited nervously in the great hall. He couldn't quite understand why he was feeling the stomach clenching mixture of anticipation and dread. His inner voice said that it knew, but it wasn't going to tell him. He thought that was one of the most annoying and useless things he had ever heard from it.
His dread solidified. What if Harry had gone back to his old habits while Sev hadn't been there to stop him? He hadn't had a single owl from the boy. Maybe he'd become maniacally depressed and wasn't speaking to anyone. Maybe something had happened? No, Albus would have told him.
What if Harry had liked staying with the werewolf?
What if he hadn't owled because he was having so much fun that it never occurred to him that Severus might be worrying? If the boy preferred to stay with Lupin, then he probably no longer cared for Severus at all. After all, look at how he had treated Harry on the last night here. He had practically thrown him out of the door.
He hadn't meant to be like that. Had just been frustrated by Albus' manipulations and Harry's inability to stand up for himself when it mattered. Maybe a little annoyed that the boy wasn't dedicated enough to want to stay and work during the holidays. With him.
But he had thought that Harry had understood. Had thought that the uncanny ability of knowing how Severus was feeling as the boy always did would still be functioning. But what if it hadn't been? What if Harry had convinced himself that Severus no longer cared for him? What if Harry no longer cared in return, as he had seemed to more and more in the months prior to the holidays.
The long stretch of summer had been torture. It had proved to Severus in a way that Harry removing from his chambers to the Tower hadn't that Harry was beyond essential in his life now. The boy had somehow burrowed his way into Severus' heart, past all of the layers of armour and sarcastic defence systems. So Sev's heart was no longer happy unless Harry was there.
He had tried to throw himself into his potions research, but conversely found that being in his lab was one of the times that he missed Harry most. He had come to rely upon Harry being there with the ingredients prepared, ready to do anything that was needed, to stir for a minute if Severus need to consult his books. It was so much harder to work on his own. How had he managed to do so for so long?
He missed the pleasant banter which always filled the spaces of time when there was nothing to do but wait for a potion to stew. He missed the bizarre three way conversations that occurred with the snake around, where he would be talking to Harry, Sylrissin would interrupt, and then everything had to be translated for both parties. He liked the amused smile that would appear on Harry's face at those times.
He missed Harry's smile. Severus' life had been so dull, so unhappy for so long. And now this boy had come along and brightened it up once his naturally cheerful disposition had rebounded from the suffering that he had been through. Harry made Severus smile. An accomplishment not to be taken lightly. It had been strange, over the holiday, going back to having nothing to laugh at. Sometimes, as he sat on the couch reading at night, he would start looking at the door every few minutes without consciously knowing that he was doing so, waiting for Harry to come. After about half an hour of that, he would look at his watch, notice how late it was getting, and then it would suddenly hit him that Harry wasn't coming round because he wasn't there. That showed how much of a routine the visits had become.
He had presumed that it would get better as time went by, that as the weeks passed he would start to revert to his old ways, as things had been before Harry had come. He hadn't, and had felt the loss of Harry all the more keenly for it.
Today the boy was coming back. Severus wondered how much he would have changed.
****************
The first change that he noticed was that Harry was taller. Quite a lot taller in fact. He seemed to have finally made up for all the growing he had failed to do at the Dursley's. Still not as tall as Severus though.
The second change was the hair. It was longer, much longer, and bound back. It looked different, very different. Harry's face was actually visible now, whereas before it had always been half hidden behind the wayward mop that had happened to live on his head.
Then Harry was standing in front of him, beaming from ear to ear. He was happy then. That was good. Half of Severus' worries disappeared.
The third change became apparent as they each waited for the other to speak first. Thinking that Harry would probably be unsure of his reception, Severus tried to think of something to say which would be welcoming without making him too vulnerable, just in case Harry was no longer interested in potions or him, when the other broke the stalemate.
"I found this really good recipe in 'Potion's Living IX' which I used for my hair. I had thought about using a normal lengthening one, but then the basil leaves wouldn't have.... Sev?"
The third change was that Harry was no longer a boy. It was obvious from his demeanour that he was just as nervous and shy as Severus had anticipated that he would be. But he had still spoken. There was a confidence in his voice, which, though it had been growing slowly before the holidays, shocked him now with the amount it had developed.
He cleared his throat. "I like it." That hadn't made sense had it? He wasn't sure if that had made sense. "The hair. I like the hair." Okay, now he sounded like a complete idiot.
Harry obviously didn't seem to think so as the smile which had been permanently etched on his face since he walked through the door grew wider still. Merlin, Severus had missed that smile.
Only Harry could make it feel alright to be awkward. Only Harry really understood him. He smiled back, his first smile since Harry had left, and reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind the other man's ear. He remembered having hair that long. High maintenance, very annoying, always getting everywhere. But it did look good on the other. Suited him in a way that Severus only now realised that the other style had not. This was Harry.
As he thought that he instantly understood why Harry had done it. The old hair had been very much the same as his father's. It was that of Potter. That of a boy. And Harry was no longer defined by either of those qualities.
"Albus arranged for you to stay down in the dungeons until school starts, next door to my own rooms. Is that amenable to you?"
Harry smiled. It was hard to distinguish from all of the other smiling, but Severus saw the difference, the slight quirk of the lips. He raised an eyebrow. He didn't bother actually asking his question when he knew that his eyebrow would have the same effect. Harry's smile became slightly tinged with sadness as he answered.
"I was just thinking." Severus managed to force the eyebrow up an extra millimetre, his emergency reserves. It worked, Harry duly elaborated. "That no one but you would have bothered asking if the arrangements were alright with me. No one else stands up for me like that."
It was true. They all, Albus particularly, trampled all over him. It shouldn't be that way, that only Severus cared enough to want Harry to make his own decisions. He had been the one to argue for the quarters in the dungeons. The headmaster had wanted to place him somewhere with windows. Sev thought that was a stupid reason for moving him elsewhere.
Harry needed to be near him, in order to facilitate practical access to the labs. And because, Severus had been rather hoping that Harry would want to spend a large part of his time in Sev's rooms anyway. Playing chess, for example, which would teach him important strategy skills. His little voice added that it would also teach the boy how to swear fluently in eighteen other languages. He answered that that would help Harry to stand up to others and gain self confidence.
Although Harry did seem to have developed a lot of that over the holidays. But still, this was one boy who could not have too much self confidence, after what had been done to him. It was ironic that it was the same person who, for four and a half years, he had believed to be the only one who could never have too little.
They began to meander their way slowly down to the dungeon. Harry appeared to have lost none of his enthusiasm for the subject at least, he seemed to have thousands of questions to ask, and began sketching things out in the air with his hand in excitement as they proceeded.
Severus remembered something. "Let me be the first to congratulate you on your exam results." He handed Harry an envelope. "You were top in potions you know. A perfect score."
Harry went slightly red. "Well, I'll have you know that I have a brilliant tutor." he teased.
Severus smiled again.
They passed the portrait to Severus' rooms, and Harry hissed out a greeting to the picture. Severus felt the musical speech wash over him in calming waves. He had missed that too. Which was when it occurred to him that he hadn't seen Harry's snake. He looked a little closer, watching him out of the corner of his eye as they walked, and finally made out that the little serpent was tucked round the back of his head, intertwined with his hair and the tie holding it. Severus was lucky that she still recognised him as a friend then and hadn't put him in a coma when he touched Harry's hair.
"There is a slight shift in the pattern of the bricks at this point, which is how you recognise the entrance. No conventional portrait hole for you! You just walk through it here. No one that hasn't been spelled for entry can pass. I took the liberty of including myself in the spell, is that alright?"
Harry nodded. "What about the headmaster?"
"Albus will find his way in. He always does. You'll come to wish that he wouldn't."
They went through the barrier. Severus walked straight into Harry, who had stopped immediately inside the portal, and was staring wide eyed at his surroundings. He gave them a quick look himself. Nothing special.
"These will be your rooms for as long as you are at Hogwarts. While you will probably wish to remain in the Gryffindor Tower during term time, indeed Minerva may insist that you do so, you can stay here during all of the holidays."
"Mine?" said Harry, shocked.
But of course, Harry had never had anywhere to call his own before. Severus reassessed the room. In that case, palatial.
He showed Harry the small main room, the bedroom and the ensuite bathroom.
"I'll leave you here to unpack then. Come to my rooms when you've finished, I dare say that the portrait can be bribed to let you in."
A mutual grin. Then Severus left Harry to it, and went back to his own rooms.
***************
He went into the lab and made sure that everything was set up just in case Harry wanted to launch straight back into practicals. It was unlikely though, as Severus was sure that first would come a lengthy discussion of everything that Harry had read over the holidays. He had begun to find before Harry left for the summer that he himself had to reread some of the texts that he recommended in order to give concise explanations. Having Harry around kept him challenged.
Back in the main room he spelled the fire to a roaring blaze, knowing made the room more welcoming. Any further adjustments were forestalled by Harry's entrance.
Severus was once again taken aback by the changes in him. In the few minutes they had been apart he had reverted to his own image of the past, but the new reality was quite different. Much improved in fact.
Harry walked over with only a moments hesitation and sprawled on the couch as though he had never left. Severus smiled at the picture he made.
"I missed this fireplace, you know?"
Yes, Harry had always loved the fireplace. As had Severus himself. It was a good way to avoid thinking when you were troubled. Had Harry just admitted that he was troubled?
"And this couch."
The soft way in which it was spoken seemed to indicate to Severus that these were not the only things that had been missed, Perhaps his company also? The companionship found here.
"I'm sure they missed you too."
There, a tacit agreement if the undertones he had sensed in Harry's words were as he interpreted them, and if not, then just a sample of his usual wit.
Harry didn't laugh though. Was that because he had caught the true meaning? He turned his head slightly and Severus' eyes were caught by the other's deep green ones. The connection was re-established, they both knew what the other had been trying to say.
"I really should check if I've had any post. Hermione is probably wondering why I haven't replied." said Harry.
Severus gestured to the fireplace, and Harry went to it and contacted the headmaster, who welcomed him back and sent the mail through.
There were two letters, from Draco and Granger, and a parcel wrapped in brightly coloured paper. It must have been Harry's birthday! Severus had never thought to ask when it was.
Harry temporarily lost his dignity and ripped the wrapping off hastily in the most childlike gesture Severus had ever seen him exhibit. Harry was eager to show off his present, a new book on quidditch.
"When was your birthday?" he wondered aloud.
"The thirty first of July."
"What did you do for it?"
Harry blinked, looking blank. "Do for it?" Severus saw the sudden realisation. "Oh, nothing."
"What do you mean nothing? Surely Lupin gave you a party, you know, cake and presents?"
"Ummm, I didn't tell him. It was right on the full moon, and he was kind of stressed. I didn't mind."
That was far too resigned for....Oh! Harry would never have celebrated his birthday with his relatives. Never had a party. He looked down at the book in Harry's hands and realised that the reason he had been so enthusiastic about it was that it was the only present he had got.
"Why, when's your birthday?" Harry asked.
Severus saw that for the distraction tactic it was and kept focusing on what he was thinking as he absentmindedly answered "The twenty ninth of November."
His birthdays when he were younger hadn't been enjoyable either. Formal affairs with all of his parent's friends and their children. But at least he had had something. He got a feeling that before he came to Hogwarts, Harry had never received a present in his life.
"I'm sorry I didn't know, I would have got you something." he said honestly.
Harry looked thrown for a moment at the idea. Then he shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
But it should have mattered. Even Severus, who never received presents now from anyone other than the standard pack of sweets from Albus, knew that it mattered. On some level, it had to matter to Harry too. He would have to find something for him, it would be late, but that was better than never. And there was a whole lot of never to make up for.
Harry switched the subject, and this time Severus let him do so. They talked about potions for a while. Then about Harry's summer.
"I can see why you were so angry about Remus. It was really terrifying when he howled."
At this Severus' head snapped up. They had made the boy stay with the werewolf when he transformed? Even with the potion.... It had been very dangerous. For someone who professed to care so much about the boy's welfare, Albus had a funny way of showing it.
"Are you alright?" The intensity of his feelings must have come through in his voice, for Harry faltered.
"I.....Yes. I mean, I was scared. But he never got out. It made it even harder to sleep though."
The latter part of that sentence caught his attention. He had thought that Harry might have trouble.
"You haven't been sleeping."
Harry squirmed for a moment, before shaking his head.
"Didn't Lupin do anything to help? You could have played chess or something. That usually settles you."
"I didn't like to wake him. I couldn't really talk to him. Although I did beat him at chess when we played." said Harry, brightening at the last.
"That's nice." Severus murmured.
Something inside him had broken loose to do a little jig at the thought that he hadn't been replaced, that Harry hadn't found a new confidant in the werewolf. He was of course, slightly ashamed of this feeling, he should have been happy if Harry had managed to share with others. But no, in this matter it seemed, his heart was entirely selfish.
For he needed Harry now. Just as much as Harry needed him.
****************
It was a few days later, about a week before the start of term, that Severus cancelled Harry's tutorial due to some important research he wanted to do. He told Harry that he was welcome to still use the lab, but that he would be unsupervised.
An old leather bound journal had been delivered to him the day before, something that he had been searching for for years. He had made a quick attempt at studying it last night, but as it was written in another language needed to fully devote his attention to it for a whole evening.
He now combed through it in earnest. It wasn't in any language he had ever seen, and he knew several. He got out other books full of dead languages and attempted to cross reference. No luck. He searched through the journal itself to try and find a key to deciphering it. He tried all of the most common codes. Nothing.
When he next looked up, it was past two in the morning, and the lights had automatically dimmed, which explained why he had been squinting for a while.
He got up, paced the room twice, raised the lights, and tried to read it one last time.
He threw the book on the floor in fury. It didn't make sense! The most important find in a century, and it couldn't be deciphered. He stared broodingly into the fire.
A moment later, a hand scooped the book up from the floor, and placed it on the table. He looked up. He hadn't even heard Harry entering the room. His inner voice told him it was probably due to the fact that he had been far too busy attempting to destroy priceless artefacts by hurling them at the tiles at the time.
Harry sat down beside him, curling up on the couch and resting his chin on his hand. He looked so at home here, Severus thought, like an animal in it's native habitat. Harry was almost a part of the room, and it welcomed him as such.
"I take it that it isn't going well?" the rascal asked.
Severus gave him a mock scowl. Harry just laughed. Sev liked that too, here was someone who was not afraid of his snarling and grouching, his sarcasm and his moods. Here was someone who knew him. Not completely, but more so than anyone before. Ever.
"Can I see?"
Ahh, the Gryffindor compulsive urge to help. Though perhaps in this case it was curiosity and a need to devour every book he could get his hands on
"I doubt you'd be interested." He saw Harry open his mouth to argue, and added, "Since it's in a foreign language that even I cannot read."
"Well, do you know anything about the book?"
Good, he had taught him well. Harry was thinking methodically, that the source might help or give some clue as to how to interpret the text.
"The author has been dead for hundreds of years. This is a true treasure." Harry raised an eyebrow, censuring his treatment of it. Severus agreed, but even he had fits of frustration sometimes. "It is supposed to contain some of the earliest antidotes that were ever discovered, recipes that have been lost or altered beyond recall. There are rumours that it contains other things too, darker secrets, and more complex potions than are known today."
Harry looked suitably impressed. He reached for the book. "Who is it by then?"
"I doubt you've heard of him, though he was a great potions master. His name was Darion Kertaeir." He noticed that Harry's hand froze, and pulled back from the journal. "He used to live in these very rooms. It's why I chose them, I was always inspired by the idea that someone of such skill had been here too."
There was a look on Harry's face that he wasn't sure if he'd seen before. Recognition, realisation, as though something had suddenly clicked. Harry reached for the book again and opened it reverently to a random page, fingering the crisp pages that were spelled against ageing. He gazed at the writing for a moment then closed the book and laid it in his lap.
"It's parseltongue. It's written in parseltongue." he said.
Severus gaped at him until he had gathered his wits. "It is? How do you know?"
"Because I can read it and you can't?"
That cheeky grin stirred something inside him, he found himself smiling in response.
"What does it look like to you? What does it say?"
"It looks like English to me, though the lettering is all swirly."
Harry opened it to the first page this time, gazed at it for a second. Then he said something.
In parseltongue.
"Well, what does it say?" asked Severus impatiently. It looked as though this would be a good night after all.
Harry gave him an odd look. "I just told you."
"No, you said something in parseltongue."
"Oh, I thought I...."
Harry looked down again. Spoke. Looked up questioningly. Severus shook his head. They tried this several more times. It looked as though Harry could not translate it into English.
"Try harder." Severus got a glare for that. Not undeserved, he could see that Harry really was trying.
"Well, you aren't helping!" Harry snapped.
"How can I possibly help? You're the bloody parselmouth!"
Harry threw his hands up in frustration, and marched out of the portrait hole, shutting it behind him. After he had had a few minutes to cool off, Severus realised that he had been extremely foolish, taking his anger out on Harry when it wasn't his fault. This way he was just alienating his only possible source for translation. And his only friend.
He was just about to go to Harry's rooms to try and find him, to apologise, when the door opened again.
"Harry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you." he said before the other had a chance to speak.
He got a tremulous smile in return. "That's okay." Harry came back and sat down again. "Anyway, I was talking to Serminysa, and I think that I have an idea. You can help. See, Parseltongue and English sound the same to me, I switch between them depending on who I'm talking to. So if I read from the book, and memorise a sentence, then you talk to me in English, then my mind should switch to thinking in that language and I will automatically translate it. What do you think?"
Severus thought that was brilliant actually. Harry really was very intelligent. And very good at problem solving. What would he do without him? His little voice told him that he'd probably do what he'd done all summer, mope around and achieve nothing of consequence.
He nodded. "It's a very good idea. Let's try it."
Harry blushed slightly at the praise and picked up the book, resting the relatively heavy journal on his lap and opening it. He began muttering to himself. As he listened intently, Severus could tell that Harry was repeating the same thing over and over.
When he raised his hand as a signal, Severus said, "Tell me what you are saying."
"If the...." Harry faltered and trailed off. "Sorry, I lost it."
"It doesn't matter, it was working. Try again."
Harry got a little more of the sentence the next time. After that, he seemed to backslide, and couldn't remember any of it after Severus interrupted him to switch his language. Then, another two words. Then nothing again. When Harry raised his hand and Severus got a feeling that the other was about to throw the book to the floor in an imitation of Sev's earlier rage, he gently removed the journal from the outstretched fingers and placed it aside.
He noticed that Harry was trembling slightly. "It's alright, you're doing fine. Of course it'll go slowly at first. Don't worry about it."
Harry tipped his head forward and rested it in his hands. Severus placed a hand on his back, and found that every muscle was wound and tense.
"What's wrong? Harry?"
"Nothing." The voice was muffled, "I just have a headache now."
Sev began to rub little circles on his back. "Must be some headache."
Harry groaned, "It is. Everything hurts."
Severus felt guilty. Working Harry like a slave until all hours of the morning would not help him.
"Maybe you should go to bed?"
"No, I don't think I could sleep. I'm fine."
Sure he was fine. The trembling under Severus' hand had grown somewhat less pronounced, but was still there. And he could still feel the stiffness creasing Harry's body. Stupid noble Gryffindors.
He sighed. "No you aren't. Come here." He twisted his arm so that Harry was pulled towards him and forced to turn until his back was facing Severus.
Sev moved his hands to Harry's shoulders and began to knead, at first gently, then harder. After a few seconds, he heard Harry give a gasp of physical relief and begin to slowly relax under his skilled hands. As his hands pressed a path down Harry's back, exploring to find all of the knots and aches, he felt the well defined muscles shift and ripple under his fingers.
He slowed his motions to just soothing stokes as Harry's head began to loll back, eyes more than half closed. He gradually lessened the pressure and allowed Harry's body to fall back until it rested mostly in his lap, the head leaning against his shoulder. Then he loosened the tie holding Harry's hair back and removed it, with the snake, setting it aside.
He rubbed Harry's temples, then his fingers slipped of their own volition to slide though Harry's hair. It was soft and silky to the touch, it felt wonderful. As he began massaging the scalp as a last effort to get rid of the headache, Harry gave a low moan of contentment.
Severus stopped the motion of his fingers for a moment to analyse the sound. It sounded almost......aroused. He looked down at Harry's flushed face, the slightly parted lips, and felt a response rise eagerly in him. Harry made a little mewl of protest at the cession of the caresses, and Sev's hands automatically returned to work.
Harry was beautiful. Not that he hadn't noticed it before. But then it had been that of a boy, coltish, awkward, shy and so terribly fragile. Now, as the fingers of one hand moved down to Harry's jaw and he felt how Harry leaned into the touch, he saw that the beauty before him now was that of a man. There were changes more subtle than the hair. What really attracted Severus to Harry was the aura he projected, the little teasing things that he would let the other get away with where no one else could. The way that Harry cared, deeply, about everything, even after all that had been dumped on him. It took a lot to get through all that and still be able to smile.
And he did love Harry's smile.
Those startlingly green eyes opened and looked into his. A sleepy grin, then a yawn.
A promise of, "Try 'gain in the morning. I'll ask Serminysa." the words slightly slurred with tiredness.
Severus smiled, it already was the morning. It had already been the morning before they even started trying with the book.
Harry's eyes closed, his breathing steady and even.
Severus kept on softly stroking Harry's hair until he was sure that the body lying on him was secure in slumber, then he wrapped his arms round him, rested his head on top of the other's, and allowed himself to sleep too.
TBC
