Scattered Fragments of Illusion by MellarkandArt
Summary: Someone has to pick up the pieces of Harry's broken soul. Severus just never expected to be the one to do it.

OR

The one where Harry actually has a friend growing up, and suddenly being a wizard doesn’t seem like that big of a deal.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Original Character
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Abuse Recovery, Depression Recovery
Takes Place: 0 - Pre Hogwarts (before Harry is 11), 1st summer before Hogwarts, 1st Year, 2nd summer, 2nd Year, 3rd summer, 3rd Year, 4th summer, 4th Year, 5th summer, 5th Year, 6th summer
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Alcohol Use, Bullying, Character Death, Drug use, Emotional Abuse, Neglect, Physical Abuse, Profanity, Rape, Romance/Het, Self-harm, Sexual Abuse, Suicide Themes
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 7 Completed: No Word count: 22355 Read: 41080 Published: 05 Jul 2021 Updated: 29 Apr 2022
Harry’s Descent by MellarkandArt
“Well?” Severus questioned once the mind-healer, Ms. Rogan, exited the room. “Anything new?”

“Professor Snape, even if he did speak to me during these sessions I would not be at liberty to share his words with you,” Ms. Rogan said (repeated, really). “But I suppose that while he’s still ignoring me, at least now he’s drawing in his notebook as he’s ignoring me.”

“Drawing?”

“Yes, and very fine sketches from what I could see. He seems to be a bit more content than he was last week. I presume the notebook was your idea?”

“Yes…” Severus drew slowly, though he hadn’t really meant the part about doodling kittens. He had assumed the boy had been spending all this time writing down his thoughts, (if he had any) which seemed to be a better use of the paper. But if the mind-healer thought it to be an improvement…

***

Harry stared out the window of the police car, heart hammering rapidly in his chest. The bobby had been nearly silent the entire drive to Little Whinging, so at least Harry hadn’t had to deal with keeping up with idle chit-chat. Instead, his mind focused on the horrific events of the past few hours and the even more horrendous ones sure to come.

The bobby pulled into the Dursley’s driveway and Harry slowly got out of the car, feeling as though he were walking to his doom. He wasn’t sure how much he even cared at this point, as he felt utterly drained now that the emotional rollercoaster he had been on was over. Why bother with fearing what the Dursleys would do to him once he entered the house? It wasn’t as though Harry would even remember it come morning.

The officer knocked on the front door and it opened to reveal Aunt Petunia. Numbness was quickly washing over Harry as he tuned out their conversation. He felt detached and floaty, and he found that he quite liked the feeling as opposed to alternatives.

“Thank you for returning him to us safely,” Aunt Petunia’s sickly sweet voice made its way into Harry’s ears, signaling the end of the exchange. She placed one of her bony hands on his shoulder and he resisted the urge to shudder.

The bobby nodded, offering an “It was no problem, ma’am,” and a “Stay out of trouble, kid,” before departing. Harry let himself fantasize for a moment of leaning into Aunt Petunia’s touch and being guided into a warm embrace, having all of his problems soothed with a gentle touch.

Reality could be cruel, however, and he was soon pulled harshly by the arm into the house.

“Where have you been, boy?” Uncle Vernon bellowed as soon as the door had been closed behind Harry. Aunt Petunia responded before Harry could even think to sort through his muddled thoughts for an answer.

“Vernon, hush!” she scolded. “The bobby is still out there.”

They were all silent for a long moment, listening for the sound of an engine starting up as they stood together in the hallway in front of the cupboard under the stairs, until Aunt Petunia deemed it safe to yell and scream at Harry, who wondered absently at the sheer insanity of this moment and wondered if his life would ever be anything less than absurd.

“What did you do to have a bobby after you, boy?” Uncle Vernon questioned furiously, pointing a chubby finger in Harry’s face.

Harry hadn’t heard much of the conversation, but he was fairly certain that the bobby must have at least offered some explanation as to why he had escorted him home. Still, he gave one of his own. It wasn’t even a lie, really.

“I… my friend, she…” Harry took a shaky breath, struggling to get the words to form in his brain and come out of his mouth. The whole thing was just so preposterous. “Her stepfather was killed. The police questioned me about it because I was with her when… when she found him.”

“Did they notice anything?” Uncle Vernon hissed through clenched teeth, his hand just barely restraining from gripping the collar of Harry’s shirt. “Did you say something?

Harry shook his head frantically. “No, sir, of course not,” he answered honestly. What would he even say? It wasn’t as though he even had any idea what was going on in this house past the general sense of just knowing that things weren’t right. And well, he’d be pretty dense not to notice his relatives’ hatred for him at this point, but it wasn’t as if that was a crime.

Uncle Vernon straightened himself and sniffed, seeming to consider for a long moment before nodding, apparently believing Harry’s story. “Go to your cupboard,” he ordered, and Harry scrambled to obey, heart stinging only slightly over his family’s ignorance of the perhaps traumatic experience of witnessing your neighbor bleeding all over the kitchen tiles.

He laid down on his cot and pulled his blanket over his head, breathing heavily. He couldn’t see much in the darkness, but he swore he could almost feel the blood still staining his hands though he knew it was long gone. He had scrubbed the skin raw long before the bobbies had arrived.

What had occurred was still a bit of a blur to him, whether that be because of his mind attempting to repress or the sheer speed of the moment, he was unsure. Alex had been distraught and Harry had been terrified, making decisions and choices that he still wasn’t sure were the right ones. He hadn’t known what he should do, but he did know what he was going to do and had done it quickly.

If the police knew what Alex had done, Harry knew that she would be sent away. Even if she had gotten away with… what she had done, she would likely be taken away from her mother’s potential custody and put into some sort of mental hospital or juvie. It was self-defense, yes, but she was still just a kid who had…

In the end, it had all been for naught, as Alex had been put into foster care regardless, at least until her mum could take care of her again. It could have been a lot worse, though, as she was currently in a group home and God only knew where she might have been sent if she had admitted to the...

Harry didn’t want to think about it. He really didn’t know what might have happened, but he hadn’t wanted to take a chance on something horrible. He wasn’t going to let Alex suffer because of Emerson any longer.

So it was with those thoughts that he brought Alex back to her house and had her sit down on the porch steps with her head on her knees while he attempted to take care of things. He knew that these kinds of things were very difficult to cover up, but Alex was nine. Who would even suspect her?

It wasn’t as though he had to plant the drugs as they were already spewed across the floor. Emerson must have been high when it happened, he usually was, so his system would show that as well. Drug users had drug dealers, and drug dealers had enemies. Harry just had to dispose of the knife that held Alex’s fingerprints, which wasn’t too difficult. It took a lot of focusing on his powers to make it disappear, but he managed. Breaking the window wasn’t really a bother, either.

The hard part was picking up the cordless phone, dialing 112, and proceeding to lie his arse off.

***

“So,” the officer, whose name tag read Barton, said, “you and your friend entered the home late this afternoon and upon entering the kitchen, found Mr. Carpiniello on the floor, yes?”

Harry had always been a bit of a smartarse and even in this situation where he really should just sniffle and nod, he couldn’t help but correct the officer on that one minor detail. “I- I’m not sure what his last name was, but it wasn’t Carpiniello. He was only Alex’s stepfather.”

Officer Barton raised his eyebrows before looking down at the file in his hand, apparently trying to find Emerson’s last name. Harry almost would have felt bad for the lack of respect in the deceased had he not been such an absolute scumbag.

The bobby cleared his throat and tried again. “Davis. So you and Miss Carpiniello found Mr. Davis’ body?”

Harry sniffled and nodded.

“Did you happen to know anything about Mr. Davis’ drug affiliations?” Officer Barton asked.

“I dunno, sir, I never really asked. I’m friends with Alex, not her stepfather.”

The man chuckled lightly before sighing. “Sorry, kid, this is… a weird situation.”

Harry sucked in a breath and decided to let it out as a choked sob. He pinched the skin on his thigh, hard, willing the tears to come. “I know, it’s so-” He broke off, scrubbing at his face furiously. “He was such a nice guy, and Alex, she… she loved him so much.”

Officer Barton nodded, eyes sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss. Do you want some water, some tea, or-”

“Can- can I just go home now, please?” Harry asked, feeling drained despite not having lost anything special with Emerson and wishing he had a real home to go to.

“Yeah, of course, I have your statement so you should be good to go. Just- one more thing, kid. Where did you get that shiner on your cheek?”

Harry’s mind drew a blank. He hadn’t thought much of it since Alex had pointed it out earlier in the day, which felt like years ago, and it hadn’t occurred to him that he might need more than one cover story. He was a fairly quick thinker when it came to talking BS, though.

“My cousin, he… we don’t really get along, y’know. He’s quite a bit bigger than me. More than a bit, really, he’s actually on the obese scale.” Harry offered a snicker for good measure. He was running the risk for overkill, though, as he had been sobbing not two minutes ago.

“Mmm. You’re a skinny thing yourself though, eh?”

“Er, yeah. Get it from my father, I think. Everyone says he was quite skinny. I don’t remember though.”

Harry hated playing the orphan card, but it usually did work rather well

The officer’s eyes softened in sympathy. “Oh, yeah, of course, you… you live with your aunt and uncle. Well, I’ll just get someone to escort you home.”

“It’s okay, sir, I can just walk with Alex,” Harry said. Officer Barton furrowed his brows.

“I’m sure you realize that she can’t just live on her own, yeah? She’ll have to be put into foster care until her mother is able to care for her.”

Harry stared blankly at the bobby, the idea of Alex not living a mere few doors down from him felt obscure. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to him before, however. Of course she couldn’t just live on her own. Even if she would be better off that way than living with Emerson. At least that wouldn’t be an issue anymore.

“You can visit her once she’s settled though,” Officer Barton offers. Harry nodded absently.

“Could… could I just see her before I leave?” he asked.

Officer Barton agreed, leading him out of the questioning room and to wherever Alex was. It wasn’t a terribly long trek, and they found her sitting in a chair gazing unblinkingly at the floor. She didn’t really even acknowledge Harry’s presence.

“Hey, Lexie,” Harry said quietly, sitting down beside her and attempting to meet her eyes. “How are you holding up?”

Alex shrugged before slumping onto Harry’s shoulder, eyes now closed. Harry ran a hand through her hair and Officer Barton had the decency to look away from the scene rather than coo over how precious it was or some such nonsense.

“I’m not coming home,” Alex said, sounding detached.

“I know,” Harry murmured, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Are you gonna be okay?”

She lifted her head and nodded it sluggishly. “Yeah, yeah… I think I will be.”

“I’ll visit you. Once you’re settled,” Harry said, though it was an empty promise. He has no clue where she will be placed and even if it were next door, the Dursleys might not ever let him out of their sight again after this little incident.

Alex offered a little smile. “Thanks, Harry. For everything.”

So many words were left unspoken as the two communicated with only their eyes. Sometimes things just didn’t have to be vocalized. Also, couldn’t, as there was a bobby standing right there listening to their every breath.

“You ready to go, kid?” Officer Barton asked, apparently out of patience for a pair of nine-year-olds’ heartfelt goodbyes. It was fine, though. It wasn’t as though they wouldn’t ever see each other again, Harry knew that with every fiber of his being.

***

Even so, it was more than just a little bit difficult adjusting to life without Alex.

Privet Drive was a bit more agonizing to bear without the knowledge of Harry having a friend a few doors down. Life was practically back to the way it was before Alex had come into it. He did his chores, did God knows what in his missing spaces, and spoke to no one unless spoken to.

So Harry’s life was back to feeling hopeless and devoid, basically.

He knew that Alex would return, as the house still belonged to her mother or someone in the family, Harry was unsure. But the longer it sat empty, the more Harry felt empty himself. Days blurred together and school had started back before he could really wrap his head around the fact that he would be starting it alone, just as he had a year previous. It was as though his life hadn’t changed at all in that time.

He had spent so many years in primary school being an outcast, being lonely, and for a few short months, he had been offered a reprieve from that lifestyle. However, that only made it all the more difficult to adjust to normal life again.

One odd thing was Dudley’s antagonism or lack thereof. He certainly wasn’t being nice, but he mostly ignored Harry unless egged on by the gang, which was extremely strange. Dudley was usually the one to start things. They didn’t talk at all outside of school, and upon further reflection, Harry realized that he had been behaving this way for a while.

It was weird.

***

The guidance counselor possessed the ability to deliver irritating lines in a gentle tone.

She kept saying that she only wanted to help Harry, but he didn’t particularly care.

“I know that you’ve been more withdrawn than usual, but this deterioration in your grades…” she sighed, shuffling through the papers before setting them to the side of her desk. “You’re very intelligent, Harry, even if you try not to show it. I would hate to see that potential wasted.”

“I don’t know why you think I’m so smart,” Harry muttered. “I fail most of the tests.”

“And yet you do so well on others. You’re simply not putting the effort in on the others and I just don’t understand why. If you’re having trouble at home…”

“I’m not,” Harry said quickly. He wondered why any of it mattered now. None of his teachers had ever cared whether or not he was happy before. Was his misery really so much more apparent now that there was a stark contrast to compare it to?

The guidance counselor frowned but didn’t argue with him. “I’m sure that things have been difficult since your friend left us, but why don’t you ever play with the other children?”

The other children hate me. The other children aren’t Alex.

“I don’t like them,” Harry said simply, which wasn’t exactly a lie. Maybe if they hadn’t decided to hate him upon first sight in grade one, maybe he would feel differently.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “I’m concerned for you, Harry. It doesn’t do well to isolate yourself from your peers.”

“My social life is kind of my own business, isn’t it?” Harry’s voice came out far more snide than he might have intended. He took a deep breath before attempting to salvage his control of the conversation. “I’ll work on my grades, I promise. I’ll try harder.” He really didn’t have to try at all to achieve that, but that was beside the point.

Things were silent for a long moment before the guidance counselor responded. “Okay. But, Harry… I’m here if you ever need to talk. Please remember that.”

Harry nodded slowly, staring at the speck of imperfection on the wall beyond her. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll remember it. Thanks.”

***

Harry gazed at the knife block sitting on the kitchen counter, thinking of blood and lies and cold dead eyes.

“Harry,” a voice said tentatively, breaking him out of his reverie. He slid his eyes over towards the direction of the sound and found his cousin staring at him.

“...Yeah?”

“Are… are you okay?”

Harry blinked.

“I know it’s not really my business, but you- you’ve just been acting really weird, lately.”

“You’re the one who’s been acting weird, Dudders,” Harry redirected the conversation, moving his gaze back over to the knives.

“I’m sorry about Alexandra,” Dudley said. “I’m sorry for making fun of her all the time.”

“It’s not like she’s dead,” Harry responded, unsure why he felt the need to point that out. Maybe because everyone who spoke her name acted as though they were at a funeral. People only ever regretted how they treated someone once they were gone.

They were silent for long moments until Dudley tried again. “Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Do you remember when that bobby came to school last year, and told us all about the signs of- of-”

Harry snapped his eyes back to Dudley, who was struggling to get the word out of his system. He gave up once he noticed Harry’s glare.

“Is that why you’re trying to repent for your sins or whatever? Because you feel sorry for me or something?”

Dudley’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, no, that’s not what I- it’s just, do you remember the guidelines they gave us about it all?”

“Funnily enough, I didn’t really have to memorize the guidelines as I live them every day,” Harry said, though he was fully aware of the irony of that statement.

Dudley bit his lip. “I’m sorry. It- it just kind of got me thinking-”

“You, thinking?” Harry sniped. “It’s a miracle on 34th Street.”

“Harry, would you just shut up for a minute and listen?”

“Why should I? We’ve lived together for as long as either of us can remember and you’re just now taking notice of your surroundings? What exactly do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know!” Dudley shouted. “I just didn’t want you to think that I think it’s okay or something, because it’s not!”

“Duddykins?” Aunt Petunia shrieked from the other room before she came running into the kitchen. She sent Harry a glare as soon as she spotted him sitting at the table. “What’s going on, baby? What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Dudley said, standing up from the chair. “He didn’t do anything at all.”

He turned around and stormed up the stairs. Harry was sent to his cupboard before Aunt Petunia went after him to soothe all his little aches and pains as usual.

It didn’t matter. It never did.

If Harry accidentally nicked himself with the knife while chopping the vegetables for dinner that night and the blood oozing from his skin didn’t bother him at all, then no one had to know. It wasn’t as though anyone would care, anyway. There was no one left to.
To be continued...
End Notes:
I know that all I ever do is apologize for taking so long but... here I am again, sorry. I am bullshitting so hard with this story tbh and it makes me feel pretty discouraged. I usually at least feel like I know what I'm talking about but I'm trying to do so much for this fic and I stress that it's just an unrealistic mess. I have all of these chapters outlined and so many big plans and then I go to write them and it's just... madness XD like did I literally just have one nine year old kill somebody and the other clean up after her? It's all part of the plot, but geeeeeez...


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