Authors: Rose
Pairing: Harry/Severus eventually
Rating: Um R maybe?
Word Count: 760
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 hirei because I can, and huge thanks to my beta iheartwillhoge I promise, this will get happier!!
Summary: What do you do when everything you have been living for is taken away?
Okay people, it's about twice as long, and should be getting longer, but not bad for a first fic hmmmmm?
Chapter Five: A Vigil
The parties in Hogsmeade raged long into the night as Severus sat in his desperate vigil over the fallen saviour. It was only when the noise died down that he realised it must be morning. Suddenly a whole new list of problems presented themselves for inspection.
What would he tell Albus? The boy’s friends? The Order? What was there to be done for a shattered child, who had, in the eyes of the world, served his purpose?
Severus stretched his cramped muscles and then settled back in his chair to wait.
Not fifteen minutes later he received a fire call from Albus, though the old coot’s twinkle was noticeably absent.
‘Severus, my boy, we have a problem. Harry is missing, and I fear he may have been taken by a remaining Voldemort supporter…’
‘He is here, Albus’
Severus would have deeply savoured the look of utter bewilderment that crossed the Headmaster’s face, had he not been about to reveal the Boy-Who-Still-Lived had attempted to take his own life.
‘He jumped off the Astronomy Tower, and slit his wrists. He is stable, however, for the moment.’
Every battle, every life lost and every year clearly settled onto the Headmaster’s face, and Severus stepped back from the fire to allow him to enter his chambers.
Albus asked no inane questions of how or why, knowing Severus had no answers for him. He simply went to the bedside and looked into the drawn, still figure, and Albus’ face reflected the guilt of a thousand murderers as he looked across his greatest success and his greatest failure. For it was clear that in the Headmaster’s plans for victory he had, as all others had, lost sight of the young man he was moulding.
They stood in silence for an immeasurable amount of time until Albus roused himself and walked to the fire to call, presumably, Granger and Weasley.
The wait while the Headmaster talked was violently morbid. Severus had to continuously remind himself that the boy was not dead, and it was not his job to deal with the friends Potter had chosen to leave behind.
Muffled denials and then quiet questions snuck under the closed door of Severus’ bedroom and two slight thumps announced the arrival of the remaining members of the golden trio.
Granger’s eyes were wet with tears, and she was visibly stopping herself from running up to the bed and proving to herself that he was alive. She moved back towards the doorway, as it seemed to truly sink in. And when it could not offer the support she needed, the girl sank to the floor with quiet, choked sobs.
Weasley could offer no support either. He stared unblinkingly at the prone figure of his friend, still clearly in denial, despite the evidence before his eyes. He stared at Severus with a growing look of accusation in his eyes.
‘You had something to do with this didn’t you? You and the rest of the Death Eater scum! How come you weren’t taken away with them, slimeball? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’
Weasley was about to launch himself at Severus, when the Headmaster took him by the shoulders, and began to talk to him quietly.
‘It was no one’s fault. We had no way of knowing. We could not see this. It is definitely not Severus’ fault. Calm down. For Harry.’
The fire in Weasley’s eyes dimmed a little. He now started pacing like a caged beast, asking all the questions no one but the boy lying alone swamped in Severus’ own bed could possibly answer. Questions of why and what he had been thinking.
Granger was beginning to collect herself, pulling herself to a standing position with the doorframe, but the tears still ran unchecked down her reddening cheeks and nose.
The grief in the air was palpable as the three who supposedly knew him best, but had failed to see what had been so carefully hidden, and obvious to Severus alone, that the Boy-Who-Still-Lived did not wish to, and for once the tabloids had got it right.
Granger hiccoughed, and it seemed to finally dawn upon Weasley that she was there, and on pure automatic instinct, he opened his arms to the weeping girl.
‘When will he awaken?’
The question startled Severus, who was lost in a minefield of poisonous questions with no easy answers, and he blinked at the Headmaster for a few minutes before finally,
‘Any time, Headmaster, but he could awaken soon.’
The two still huddled together groped blindly for something to sit on, still entangled in each other, and the four settled down to wait.
Hours passed, or so it seemed, until, after even Granger’s sniffles had stopped, Potter began to stir…
TBC
Feed Me!
Rose
xxxxxxx