Author: Rose
Pairing: Harry/Severus eventually
Rating: Um R maybe?
Word Count: 401
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The crappy attempt at 'plot' within belongs to me.
Warnings: Slash, Attempted Suicide. Ignores HBP
Notes: For sev0109 because I can, and huge thanks to my beta iheartwillhoge I promise, this will get happier!!
Summary: Harry has lost all his purpose in life. Who can help him find a reason to live again?
Okay people, after messing around with the POV this will probably be mostly Severus' POV with some from Harry... k?
Chapter Four: A Rescue
Severus Snape was alone in his rooms. As usual. He heard the parties raging around the town, but he felt no need to join them. They didn’t understand. Couldn’t.
Freedom.
It was a bizarre concept. He was free of Voldemort. So he celebrated the best we he knew, with 25-year-old scotch and quiet contemplation.
He was on his second glass when the alarms when off. The ones that told him someone had tried to jump off the Astronomy tower. He knew it was Potter, and so he ran, alone in the castle, to save their saviour. For who else would want to die on a night like this?
And there, lying on the floor of the tower, thrown back from the cold night air, in an increasingly growing pool of blood, was a broken shell of the Boy-Who-lived-To-Defeat-Voldemort.
Severus cursed, racking his brains for any, every healing spell he had ever learned, or just something, anything to stop the bleeding. He felt a kind of desperation he had never known before, and cursed himself for being so helpless.
Then finally, Sano, he whispered.
And the wounds began to close, painfully, languidly. And yet he did not wake.
The pulse was fluttery, tachycardic, and Severus knew if he didn’t get some blood into the boy, he’d die.
Sanguine, created a drip into the boy, and so tortuously, his pulse came down and his breathing evened into sleep.
Instinctively, Severus picked up the boy, gently, and the drip, and carried him down to his own quarters and into his own room.
He knew that Potter would not want everyone staring at him when he awoke.
He had been too right, and for once he was sorry, and wished he had been mistaken.
His thoughts skipped back to the previous thought, when he awoke, what would he do then? The boy wanted to die… how was he to stop him? How would he, a man who had done everything to make Potter’s life as difficult as possible, be able to convince him to live?
He would need constant watching, Severus knew that all too well.
Severus settled into the chair by his bed and prepared himself for a long night, knowing he would not sleep. Potter slept. So pale. His eyes were fixed upon the cadaverous face, eerie in the flickering candlelight, and hoped it had been enough for now.
Can't decide if I like this chapter or not...
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