One of Those Days by Anthezar
Summary: One unlucky hit with a strange spell. That's all it took to alter the course of Harry's life - and everyone else's life around him. Bound to stay within ten feet of each other, Harry Potter and Severus Snape have to learn to get along or die trying.

But sometimes in the hardest of times, one can learn things never imagined possible. After all, the past doesn't define the future.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Luna, Ron, Sirius, Umbridge
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Drama, Family, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 5th Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys
Prompts: Teacher Attack!, Multiple Challenges, Harry's Rant, Joined at the Hip, Secrets
Challenges: Teacher Attack!, Multiple Challenges, Harry's Rant, Joined at the Hip, Secrets
Series: None
Chapters: 50 Completed: No Word count: 127595 Read: 354966 Published: 11 Jan 2014 Updated: 12 Mar 2020
Fourteen: The Crippling Vice by Anthezar

Severus was infuriated.

He refused to feel guilty. He refused to think about those hurt green eyes – ones that looked so much like her. He refused to listen to those words spoken in hurt, like the wounded child he appeared to be. No, Severus could only see the living copy, the clone of his hated enemy. He had seen the boy staring at the Chang girl – the boy had made his interest so obvious, anyone could have seen it. The only difference from James Potter had been Harry Potter’s obvious clumsy inexperience with the opposite gender.

James Potter had been quite the ladies’ man, after all.

Once again, such signs were ignored. Then, Severus had watched the boy make a complete mess of his potion. Yes, it was a complicated one. Yes, it was sixth year. Yes, not even Granger would’ve been able to do it on her first try. Yes, yes, yes, Severus knew all the excuses and he was full of them.

But he couldn’t deny how he’d been somewhat pleased by Potter’s performance in the previous classes. While Snape wasn’t about to praise the boy, who was a fifth year, for completing a good fourth year potion, he had been surprised how well Potter did in the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw environment.

And Miss Lovegood seemed to like him and had even sat next to him, which meant he wasn’t one of the students who bullied the poor girl.

But seeing the ruined cauldron that would’ve given Longbottom a run for his galleons, Severus couldn’t hold back the frustration and fury at the boy. Thus, he let go of his control. The further and louder he scolded, the more he could see the image of his hated enemy. He pulled on every insult he had on James Potter and showered the boy with them. And to his further infuriation, the brat had stood there and had taken it all.

But then, the boy had spoken.

A kinder man would’ve been wounded by such words.

Severus, on the other hand, had only glared at the receding form of the boy as he rushed to the ingredient cupboard and barricaded himself inside. The door had slammed with a vicious crack, then the room fell into terrible silence.

For a full minute, Severus didn’t move. Then, he glared at the gaping sixth years and shouted, “Class dismissed. Get out!

The students jolted. Then, in a mass panicked scramble, they gathered their things and rushed to the exit door of the classroom, furious whispering on their voices. For a brief moment, Miss Chang glanced back at the cupboard, altruistic despair in her countenance, but seeing the glare from Severus, she went pink and fled with the rest of her classmates.

Thus, Severus was left with his anger. With a final glare at the boy’s ruined potion, he marched to the ingredient cupboard, bent on rebuking the boy more for his cheek in class, when he stopped abruptly. Just as his anger has flooded through his system, immense guilt now began to creep into place.

With an annoyed sigh, mainly at himself, Severus opened the ingredient cupboard.

Potter was sitting on the floor, curled up on the floor just two feet away from the door. His back was to the left wall, while his head was buried in his knees. Briefly, Severus was alarmed that the boy was crying – what in Merlin’s name was he going to do with a crying child? But Potter lifted his head, staring straight ahead. His eyes were dry, as was his face – though, with his glasses set aside, the green color glistened with emotion.

He looked so young there.

“I didn’t deserve any of that,” whispered Potter, not looking at him. “I never have.”

Severus tried to ignore the guilt that ate at his heart like acid.

“Just so you know, okay?” continued Potter, his voice soft, yet it held an element of strength. “I didn’t try to mess up. If I knew everything and was perfect, then I wouldn’t need to go to class in the first place. But it’s like you enjoy this. Whatever. If you have to keep doing this, fine. Hate me. I don’t have to understand it. I don’t have to like it. But I get it: you hate James Potter more than you like Lily Evans. So, Harry gets lost in between.”

Those words were like a blow to the stomach. Severus had to place a hand on the wall for support, his body stunned by the pure truth there. It took his breath away, as if someone had truly sucker punched him. Ignoring the guilt no longer worked; it flooded through his system with ravenous purity.

“I was trying, too,” whispered Potter, his tone dropping even further. “I just wanted to hear more about…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “But I guess that’s never going to happen.”

What was the boy talking about? Hear more about what?

There was a long moment of silence, one Severus couldn’t bear to break.

“I… don’t understand,” whispered Potter finally, his voice nearly inaudible. There was such intense longing within that voice. “I was right, wasn’t I? You enjoy hurting me. That’s why you do it. I don’t understand why people enjoy hurting others. It never did anyone any good. Look at Voldemort.”

Severus opened his mouth, ready to deny everything, but his tongue wouldn’t move. He couldn’t even berate the boy for saying the dreaded name. And he couldn’t deny the truth; he had enjoyed hurting Potter, to see that angry, helpless expression on the face which looked so much like him – if only to bring that old arrogance back down to earth where it belonged. It had filled Severus with some kind of twisted, vindictive pleasure to harm the son of his hated enemy – even to the point of pretending he were hurting James Potter himself.

But such imperfect feelings of pleasure were fleeting – they weren’t filled with the crystal truth.

He could yell at the boy. He could take more points. He could give him detention. He could ignore the situation.

But if Severus did all that, their living arrangements would become that much more unbearable. To eliminate this spell, they had to work together. They had to get along. They had to see eye to eye. Without that, they would be stuck together for years, possibly. They would have to live in the same home with the same hostility for one another.

What a terrible way to live.

Apologizing was a bitter pill to swallow. It didn’t come any better. In fact, Severus was at a loss now. He didn’t know what to do. Even if he apologized, the boy wouldn’t forgive him. Lily hadn’t. This boy was her son; he had her eyes. Severus didn’t deserve forgiveness, anyway. All these years and he continued to make the same mistakes. Forgiveness was to be earned, not easily given – at least in Severus’ case.

Well, that was what Severus believed, even if the truth was far kinder.

And yet again, while he didn’t know it, Harry Potter was once again being mistaken for someone else.

Instead, Severus stood there in the doorway, gazing down at the shadowed form of Harry Potter, his thoughts trying to grasp on something he could do. But he just stood there, his mouth frozen open slightly, his tongue thick like molasses.

Pride was such a crippling vice.

The minutes passed; they crawled forward, like the pattering feet of centipedes.

“Potter.”

The name felt strange on his tongue. The boy slowly looked up, his dry, yet glistening eyes staring directly at Severus. With the boy’s glasses no longer guarding his expression, Severus was locked within those eyes, unable to escape their hurt, their pain, their longing, their confusion.

The words could no longer be held back.

“My conduct was… unacceptable,” said Severus, his voice still strange in his throat. It sounded distant. His tongue continued, unfettered; those widening eyes drew him forth. “There was no reason to expect a completed and perfected Draught of Living Death from a fifth year. It is difficult for most sixth years. I…” His jaw clenched; he swallowed. “I apologize.”

It would be wasted on this boy. Despite seeing otherwise during the short few days he’d had the boy in his quarters, Severus was positive the boy would throw his apology right back in his face, just like Lily. Then, all his previous assumptions about Harry James Potter would be correct. There was no doubt in his mind. This had been unnecessary. It had been a useless attempt.

This much Severus believed.

And he quickly found his trust had been poorly placed.

Potter gazed at him with wide eyes, the light from the classroom glittering through the green color. Then, a gentle expression of hope entered his features. He pursed his lips slightly, as if trying to hold back a small smile. He looked down and nodded; his arms tightened around his knees.

“Okay,” whispered Potter. Then, that faint, hidden smile appeared on his face.

What compelled Severus to continue, he would never know.

“I also said some… iniquitous things about your character. For that, as well, I…” He inhaled softly. “I apologize.”

Potter stared at him, as if he couldn’t believe what he had heard. His features bent into a frown. His lower lip tucked beneath his teeth. Then, a questioning look appeared.

“Sir…” The boy hesitated, blushing slightly. “What does… iniquitous mean?”

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Yet, somehow, it amused him all the same. Though, the answer sobered Severus. He took a deep breath.

“Unjust.” There was a pause. “Vicious.”

“Oh,” whispered Potter. The boy took a soft, shuddering breath. The few moments which passed seemed like an eternity. Then, the boy looked up at Severus. “It was, wasn’t it?” he asked, his voice soft, as if he needed more reassurance.

The guilt tore through Severus’ gut like a ravaging beast. He slowly nodded.

“Yes, it was.”

The boy looked away, his face falling into shadow. From what light Severus could see through, a peace had entered the boy’s expression. For a moment, Severus continued to stand there. The silence, for once, wasn’t uncomfortable. Then, he held out a hand. Potter looked at it briefly, visibly surprised. But, with a soft smile, he picked up his glasses, placed them on his face, and accepted the proffered hand.

As he pulled the boy to his feet, Severus noted the size of the hand; it seemed smaller than it should’ve been – all of Potter was smaller than it should’ve been. But, before he could think on it any more, the boy withdrew his hand, curling his arms around his chest. The defensive action didn’t fail to be noticed.

He’s not… like Lily at all.

Severus pulled out of the cupboard. Potter followed after him. As they came back into the classroom and slowly walked towards the boy’s table, Potter sighed. He motioned to the disaster.

“I made a right mess of it, didn’t I?”

Severus glanced at the boy for a moment. Potter looked so disappointed as he stared at the remains of his cauldron. Maybe it had been Potter’s response to his apology. Or maybe it was the way the boy was looking at his work, as if failing had really upset him.

Somehow, the boy didn’t seem to be Potter’s spawn or Lily’s son. No, there was a flicker of what he truly was: a fragile child, vulnerable to harmful words. Those previous inklings now appeared to be more than a fleeting possibility.

The flinching; the nightmares; that submissive stance; the angry front – the boy had been abused, hadn’t he? There was no denying it. There was no running away from the truth. Someone had harmed this boy for many years, perhaps even from childhood. It was glaringly apparent now and Severus couldn’t ignore it any longer.

The boy had seemed so eager to hear something about Lily. He’d had no one to tell him about her, had he? Potter lived with his aunt and uncle, didn’t he? That meant…

That vixen, Petunia, she must have hated him for Lily. Just as I have hated him for his father.

There is no excuse.

“On the first try, Lily – your mother – her Draught of Living Death exploded,” said Severus, unable to hold back any more. The boy turned, staring at him with wide eyes. “She spent three days in the infirmary. On her second attempt, something strange happened – something that, to this day, I can’t duplicate with the same ingredients. She created a mist that turned everyone in the room a dark shade of green for an entire week, skin and hair.”

There was a soft, breathy laugh. Potter stared at him, his features visibly drinking in every word.

“She never could get it right. I tried to help her, but… by then…”

She wouldn’t even look at me.

“It…” Severus swallowed, trying to ignore the pain of remembering Lily’s constant ignoring. When she had looked at him, she had only been fill with glares of contempt. “It had been quite amusing to see so many Gryffindors dressed in green.”

The boy’s smile widened. He laughed.

“I think… the reason she never could make the Draught of Living Death was because it was used in the play, Romeo and Juliet. The girl used it to fake her death, while the boy didn’t know and killed himself for it. Lily hated that play.”

Potter frowned. “Why? What do you mean?”

“Do you know the play?” There was a nod. “It was written by William Shakespeare.” The boy nodded again. “Though he was believed to be a Muggle, he was actually a Squib. He mentioned a number of things and hints about our world in his plays, but since he wasn’t being watched by the ministry, he could get away with it.”

“So… Mum didn’t like him much?”

“Oh, no. She adored Shakespeare,” said Severus, shaking his head. “It was just Romeo and Juliet she didn’t like. She never had patience for the stupidity the two teenagers displayed. Said it was too much like normal teenagers and she couldn’t stand how rashly they acted. But I also think she hated that they died.”

Funny, no matter how much she and I would deny it, we both acted just as rashly. It destroyed years of friendship in one fell swoop.

And… how bitter the irony of her short life: the tragedy of a mother giving her life to save her child.

“I read Romeo and Juliet once,” said Potter, his voice soft. He paused, before blushing. “I couldn’t really understand it. Then again, I was ten.”

“It’s written in a difficult language, without a doubt. Time has changed the spoken and written word,” said Severus, nodding. He marveled at the ease it had been to talk with the boy. And it terrified him. After a moment, he motioned to Potter. “Come, I could use your help in cleaning the classroom.”

And with that, the boy smiled and nodded – not at all unhappy to help.

To be continued...
End Notes:
And, once again, no beta. ^^; But I just wanted to say that you all are awesome! Thank you so much for your lovely comments. They definitely keep me going. So thank you! -huggles-


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