Author: Rose
Pairing: Harry/Severus eventually
Rating: Um R maybe?
Word Count: 1,045
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 Naked!TomWhore for lovely reviews on FF.net, and huge thanks to my beta iheartwillhoge Bad language Alert!
Summary: What do you do when everything you have been living for is taken away?
Chapter Eight: A Development
Severus was scared. He wasn’t used to feeling scared, even whilst facing down a psychotic megalomaniac he felt no fear. As he banged on his own bathroom door he could almost appreciate the irony of his frisson of fear being directed at the former bane of his existence. It then occurred to him that he was a wizard and should stop acting like a paranoid muggle mother. Alohamora!
He waited. It hadn’t worked. He was sorely tempted to kick himself for being so foolish as to imagine that would work with the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-Voldemort on the other side. After five minutes of frantically racking his brains as to what to do he gave up and blasted the door to pieces.
Harry stood by the sink with a razor in his hand, ready to re-open the scars on his wrists. Severus was returned to that abominable state of panic which led to him caring about the boy. Accio razor.
‘If you please Mr Potter, would you return to my bed and cease trying to paint my bathroom in a Gryffindor red?’
This led to a muttered ‘Bastard’, but thankfully compliance.
‘Mr Potter, if you do not refrain from trying to end your life whilst I am supposed to be helping you heal you will be tied to this bed, do I make myself clear?’
A smirk that any Slytherin would have been proud of made its way across Harry’s face.
‘Of course, sir, I never knew you had such a kinky streak.’
Severus was fighting very hard against the urge to let his jaw drop. Clever little bugger, much better tactics this time, thought Severus. Severus made a decision there and then. In order to get Harry out of his depression he had to do what no one ever had. To treat him like a normal person. He would set the boy to work, when he could be trusted not to use the knives for… inappropriate purposes, and get him started on some potions work for the next year.
Severus let a wicked smirk of his own slide across his face.
‘Of course you did Potter, but I can… reinforce that if you wish.’
The look of fear that crossed Harry’s face was too much to bear after the events of the previous two days and Severus could no longer hold down the hysterical laughter that bubbled up in his throat.
The next time he looked up Harry’s face was one of complete astonishment, but there was a small quirk of the corner of his lips that gave Severus a little hope.
‘Will you listen to me now?’
A small, cautious nod was returned to him.
‘You will not do that again whilst in my chambers. I do not know your reasons, nor do I truly expect to understand them. Frankly, I have no care to hear them. Whatever crisis you are having is your own. If you believe I can be of some assistance then I will endeavour to do so but you will have to ask me for it, do I make myself clear?’
Another, more perceptible nod, and a look of something which could almost be likened to gratitude. Severus was a little worried about the lack of speech, but he hid it carefully behind his favourite blank mask.
‘Do you wish to eat something?’
The emerald eyes narrowed.
‘You cannot starve yourself to death. I have potions I can pour down your throat once you are too weak to move.’
A glare. Perhaps progress was a little too much on the hopeful side of things.
‘Do not glare at me Potter, I am simply stating a fact.’
‘Harry.’
‘What?’
‘You called me Harry earlier.’ He had noticed that. Bugger.
‘If we are to spend so much time together I would prefer you to call me that, rather than the name which clearly only reminds you of my father.’
Perceptive little monster. Severus nodded in acquiescence and fought hard against the desire to do the same. After five minutes of mental wrestling he choked out.
‘Perhaps you had best call me Severus, we are after all sharing quarters.’ A smirk ‘In point of fact, Po-Harry, you currently have my bed.’
A raised eyebrow greeted him. Severus was beginning to truly understand why people found Severus himself so infuriating, this non-verbal mocking was enough to make your skin itch in irritation.
Severus scowled and turned to the fireplace to order some soup from the kitchens. Seconds later a tray with soup appeared on the table, presumably for him, and a small pool appeared in front of Harry. Obviously the house elves had noticed how damnably thin the boy was.
They ate in silence, Harry unable to eat more than half of his soup, which Severus simply gave him a piercing look over and banished the remainders back to the kitchen.
He was exhausted, it suddenly occurred to him. He swayed gently and quickly got a hold of himself. He would not fall asleep before Harry; he was not that foolish or tired yet. The realisation that he would have to take care for this suffering child, for who knew how long really hit him as he made his way to the chair by his bed.
Damn you Albus, he thought tiredly and not for the first time.
He heard the boy rustling around in the covers, burying himself as he too succumbed to the calls of sleep. He hoped that he could help Harry.
Severus blinked, where had that thought come from? He didn’t care that much about Harry, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He looked over at the pale young man that lay nestled amongst his own sheets and refused to accept that he wanted anything more than to get the boy out of his chambers as fast as possible. He would do this for any student and it had no bearing on his feeling towards Harry. Who he could no longer think of as Potter, who was no longer a miniature James to torment him. As Severus checked once more that Harry was indeed already asleep he drifted off, he wondered if there was any way to convince himself that Harry was still the bane of his existence.
TBC
Well. I'm not sure about how this is all going, its rather got a life of its own...
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xxxxx
Rose