Lily's Lost Boys by chrmisha
Summary: SEQUEL to “The Last Will and Testament of Lily Evans” and “Lily’s Last Wish.” Harry is kidnapped and tortured, and Snape is left to try and pick up the pieces and prepare Harry for the final battle. This is the third story in the series.
Categories: Healer Snape, Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape, Teacher Snape > Unofficially teaching Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Albus Severus, Draco, Hermione, Ron
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Injured!Harry, Kidnapped!Harry
Takes Place: 6th Year
Warnings: Rape, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: Lily's Boys - The Saga
Chapters: 34 Completed: No Word count: 88197 Read: 105343 Published: 17 Aug 2017 Updated: 26 Jun 2018
Chapter 30 by chrmisha

“Stiff?” Snape asked with a snicker.

Harry grimaced. “I can’t believe I’m sore after ice skating. I didn’t even know those muscles in my legs and arse existed.”

Snape laughed as he scooped up a set of young fairies playing tag. It was early morning and still dark out, which made them easier to locate in the tree. “Don’t miss that pink one,” he said, pointing to a teenager who was trying to hide behind a pinecone.

“Got it.” Harry plucked her up, gave her a good spray in the face to sedate her, then laid her gently in his basket. “Think they’ll be happy to go home?”

Snape shrugged. “How are your friends doing?”

Harry smiled. “They are good. Thanks again for those journals, they’re brilliant, sir.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

Harry sprayed a particularly hyper yellow adolescent fairy. “Ron has been keeping me updated on his family and Quidditch. Hermione is as jealous as I knew she would be about the fairies and finding the grotto. She’s full of questions that I can’t answer.”

Snape nodded. “Have you discussed your imprisonment with them?”

Harry instantly felt his walls go up. “No.”

Although Snape acted as if he hadn’t notice the change in Harry’s demeanor, Harry could tell from the set of his jaw that he had.

“Any reason?” Snape asked.

A variety of reasons ran through his mind, but none that Snape would believe or accept. It was too hard. They wouldn’t understand. They’d pity him. They’d see him as broken. It would hurt them. They wouldn’t know what to say after they knew and it would be awkward between them. He didn’t want their opinion of him to change. Finally, Harry let out a sigh. “I don’t know how.”

Snape raised a brow. “You don’t know how,” he repeated, deadpan, placing a few more sprays over his basket of sedated fairies. He added a temperature charm and closed his basket.

“What am I supposed to write?” Harry said as he laid the last three fairies from the tree in his basket. “Dear Ron and Hermione. Hanging out with the Death Eaters was a real trip. I was starved, burned, beaten, buggered…” Harry bit his lip and turned away, his throat suddenly feeling too tight.

“Harry,” Snape said in a soft voice. “Instead of focusing on what happened to you, I suggest you focus on how you felt.”

“Hopeless, helpless, terrified,” Harry said, spraying all the fairies once more before casting the temperature charm on his basket and closing the lid. “Like there was no way I was going to make it out of there alive.” Harry shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

“Tell them that. They don’t need to know the details of what happened if you don’t want to share them.” Snape shifted the basket of fairies to his other hand and led Harry to the back door. “Although I dare say they’d be more than willing to listen.”

They were both quiet as they dressed in warm jackets and cloaks, scarves, hats, and mittens. Finally, Snape caught Harry’s gaze. “Let them help you, Harry.”

Harry knew Snape was right. If the situation was reversed, he’d be desperate to be there for his friends, even more so if they were locked away somewhere and he couldn’t see them to ascertain for himself that they were all right. “I’ll try.”

Snape squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “That’s all I ask.” He opened the door and gestured Harry through it. “Now, see if you can find the fairy grotto by yourself this time.”

It was still mostly dark when they left the safe house, although the horizon was beginning to lighten the tiniest bit. They walked twenty minutes in a comfortable silence. After Harry had managed to trip over his own feet twice, with Snape catching him both times, a grumbling Snape kept a firm hand on Harry’s upper arm to prevent any future missteps.

Harry stopped at where he remembered the grotto entrance to be. He wandered around for nearly fifteen minutes in broad circles and rough figure eights, searching in vain for the shimmering particles of air that Snape had pointed out to him last time. Feeling defeated, he muttered, “You made it look so easy.”

“You aren’t focusing,” Snape said.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Harry snapped, jamming his cold mitten-covered hands into his pockets.

“Fussing,” Snape said.

“Fussing!” Harry felt outraged. “Well then, why don’t you…”

A heavy hand clamped down on Harry’s shoulder, cutting off his words. “Calm yourself, Harry. Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

Begrudgingly, Harry did as Snape requested. It took him several deep breaths to calm himself. He didn’t understand it, but he’d found himself short of temper quite often lately, set off by the stupidest things. When he got like this, Snape would always cock his head and look at him strangely, as if he were an odd potion specimen. Somehow, that infuriated Harry even more. Harry twitched at the thought.

Snape’s other hand came down on his other shoulder. Harry had his eyes closed so he could only imagine Snape standing in front of him, towering over him. Out of curiosity, he asked, “Why do you have your hands on my shoulders? Is that supposed to help or something?”

Without responding, Snape lifted his hands.

In their absence, Harry felt untethered and anxious. His calm mind scattered into a myriad of disjointed thoughts. His feet were cold. He was tired. It was too early in the morning. He wanted breakfast. He was angry, about what he didn’t even know. Then Snape’s hands fell back to his shoulders, their firm pressure driving him downward. Instantly, his body and mind calmed.

Harry gazed up at Snape in awe. “You’re grounding me.”

Snape nodded.

“Thanks,” Harry said. “I didn’t even realize how much I needed it.” Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. He kept breathing deeply until his heart rate returned to normal and the anxiety had left him.

“Now,” Snape’s deep voice said. “Instead of reaching out with your senses, reach out with your magic.” As Harry opened his eyes, Snape said, “Keep your eyes closed. Use your magic only.”

Harry bit back his irritation. How was he supposed to do that? Then Snape’s fingers squeezed his shoulders and, in so doing, he must have sent a pulse of his own magic into Harry because Harry was suddenly very aware of the ebb and flow of his own magic.

“Wicked,” he murmured. Tentatively, he pushed at the tendrils of his magic, trying to see if he could reach beyond himself to find the grotto. He was partially successful. He couldn’t extend his magic very far, but he could push out enough that he felt his magic hit something. What was most interesting was that if he pushed backwards or to the sides, he felt nothing, just his magic weakening and petering out. But if he pushed forward, his magic sort of skittered sideways.

“Is that it?” Harry asked. “Right in front of me?”

“Keep your magic extended, Harry, and open your eyes into slits.”

Harry did so. The first strands of dawn were breaking across the horizon, heralding a new day. As he strove to keep his eyes mostly closed, he saw the telltale shimmer of the portal between worlds, the light of the new dawn just catching on its fragile threads. Harry glanced up to meet Snape’s knowing gaze. “Wicked.”

Snape rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.

“How can you find it so easily?” Harry asked.

“Practice. Also, I use both my magic and my senses together to reach out and search. I discard other anomalies until I find what I’m looking for.”

“Can you show me how to do that?” Harry asked.

“I just did.”

Stepping into the grotto was as exciting and amazing as it had been the first time. The humid warmth, the pastel colors, the twisted tree branches, the cup-shaped blossoms. Fairies flitted everywhere, working, playing, relaxing. Severus and Harry set down their baskets and quietly laid out their charges.

The other fairies rushed forward, chattering animatedly. Harry wondered if they were concerned for their missing family members, but it turned out that they’d been excited to welcome them back and hear the stories of their adventure. Harry would have been happy to watch this for some time; but, much too soon, Snape touched his arm and motioned with his head that it was time to leave.

Snape made their farewells to the leader of the clan, being sure to thank the head fairy profusely for allowing his tribe members to accompany the humans for a time. Snape had brought gifts of thanks as well, mostly showy things such as wax and glass beads, gold and silver string, colorful ribbons, and a few tiny vials of potions. The tribe seemed most pleased with these offerings and bade the good wizards to return. Harry was sad to leave the serenity of the place.

“Would you like to try skating again today?” Severus asked as they walked back toward the house.

Harry flexed his sore muscles. “How about tomorrow,” he suggested, chagrined. “Do you know if there are any hills around here? I’d love to go sledding!”

“Would you?”

“I’ve only done it a couple of times. The Dursleys took Dudley, but never me. When I spent the holidays with the Weasleys, though, there was a nearby hill that we went sledding on and it was a lot of fun.”

“I dare say that going down is the only fun part,” Snape commented.

“True,” Harry said. “But we used magic to float ourselves back up the hill, so that wasn’t bad either.”

Snape glanced over. “Weren’t you underage?”

“Yes, but we always made sure to bring along one of the older Weasley brothers so we could use magic without getting in trouble.”

“Worked that out, did you?” Snape asked, his lips quirked.

“Yeah, and it was bloody annoying when I did! It is incredibly unfair that only Muggleborns can’t do magic outside of school. Everyone else with a witch or wizard in the family can get away with it without a problem.”

Snape just shook his head, his eyes lit with amusement.

Harry bit back his irritation. Then a disturbing thought occurred to him. “Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“I seem to be angry a lot lately. Every little thing ticks me off.” Harry bit his lip, afraid to say what was on his mind. “Do you think… do you think it’s Volde…” At Snape’s sharp look, Harry amended his words. “You Know Who? Do you think he’s trying to break into my mind and he’s angry and I’m picking up on that?”

They’d arrived back at the house and Snape ushered Harry in out of the cold. “When you get angry, do you have a reason for it, however trivial? Or does anger just suddenly come over you for no reason at all?”

Harry thought about it. “No, there’s always a reason. Usually a stupid one. I mean, something really not worth getting upset over. It’s as if I have a really short fuse all of a sudden. Or like I’m really bad-tempered and irritable.”

Snape cocked his head and looked at Harry in that potion specimen way and Harry snapped.

“Stop that! I hate when you look at me that way. It’s like I’m a bug you’re trying to dissect.” Harry’s pulse had increased as his anger had flared.

Snape straightened. “It’s not the Dark Lord, Harry.”

“Then what is it?” Harry asked, frustration swamping him.

Snape summoned a Calming Draught and handed it to Harry, who drank it down in one long gulp.

“Let’s eat the breakfast that Dobby has left us and I will tell you what I think.”

Harry slumped into his chair, calmer now, but feeling as if something ominous was about to befall him.

Snape served himself a helping of cheesy egg omelet and pulled some ham onto his plate as well. “You know that there are different types of abuse.” Severus used a knife and fork to cut his omelet into bite-size pieces. “There’s neglect, verbal abuse, physical abuse, psychological abuse, and sexual abuse.”

Harry wasn’t sure where this going, but he really didn’t want to talk about this right now, first thing in the morning. A piece of egg halfway to his mouth, he said, “Maybe we should talk about this later. It’s awfully early in the morning.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You asked me a question. If you wish to hear the answer...”

“I do,” Harry said, raising his hands in surrender. “Just… not right now. I have a feeling it’s going to ruin my whole day otherwise.” Harry dropped his gaze, feeling weak for his cowardice but not wanting to be a wreck all day. He’d had enough days like that. “Maybe we could brew some potions today or something, and talk about this later tonight?”

Harry heard the clink of metal against porcelain and looked up, only to meet Snape’s intense gaze. “You must really wish to avoid the topic if you are offering to brew potions.”

Harry shrugged.

“Very well, then. I will endeavor to teach you something new in potions today and we can save our serious conversations for this evening.”

“Thanks, sir,” Harry said. He ate his breakfast heartily, grateful for the reprieve.

To be continued...


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