Even the Unbreakable Can Be Broken on the Inside by MellarkandArt
Summary: Severus was just trying to examine Harry's wound from the blood quill. There was not supposed to be anything else hidden underneath his sleeves.
Categories: Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Sirius
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving
Genres: Angst, Drama, Family, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Addicted!Harry, Injured!Harry
Takes Place: 5th Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Self-harm
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 3895 Read: 4467 Published: 04 Sep 2021 Updated: 04 Sep 2021
Story Notes:
Pre-established relationship between Harry and Sev, not quite sevitus as Harry lives with Sirius but still, all the feels. This is the kickoff to my bad things happen bingo from tumblr, the prompt being: survivor's guilt. Yes, there's at least 24 more stories filled with angst from me to follow this one. Nothing new, really.

TRIGGER WARNING: discussion and brief descriptions of self-harm
Even the Unbreakable Can Be Broken on the Inside by MellarkandArt
“What is that on your hand?”

Harry crossed his arms against his chest, making it clear that he was an unwilling participant in this conversation. He had not asked to be dragged out of class and into the potions professor’s office, to be questioned on subjects in which he did not wish to speak of. It was oddly reminiscent of a time before and while Professor Snape had been very helpful to him in the end, that was not something he wanted to think about just now.

He had been stupid, so very stupid, but that was apparently how he operated. He had reasoned that he wore robes every single day at school, and the long sleeves of his uniform wouldn’t arouse suspicion. There was no reason for anyone to be looking at his arms. It would be fine.

But he hadn’t counted on sustaining such an injury to his hand.

He hadn’t counted on being signaled out from the absolutely toad-faced woman he had the pleasure of calling professor. He hadn’t even done anything, simply kept his mouth shut just as both Sirius and Professor Snape had instructed him. But she still managed to get him into detention and force him to write in his own blood.

And the most horrible part of it all was that he sort of liked it.

The feeling of the quill scratching harshly into the back of his hand hurt like a bitch and he absolutely adored the feeling, horrible yet glorious at the same time.

The thought of stealing the quill for his own personal use had rested in the back of his mind during the long detentions. He could just slip it in his bag, just as he had done with one of Sirius’ penknives. It had been screaming at him, taunting him. The blood quill was even worse. There in detention, he was actually testing the product out, being teased by it. He even had adult supervision for this extracurricular activity. It was fine. It was okay.

But the toad would notice of course if he took the quill and Harry didn’t like the idea of simply asking her for it, though there was that horrible little space in his brain that greatly encouraged it. It was pure insanity, and while he felt that he had crossed the line from sane to insane quite some time ago, this was just getting ridiculous.

Harry,” Snape practically growled, reminding Harry that while the professor could be kind, it didn’t necessarily mean that he was an overly nice or patient person.

Harry knew that he had no chance of getting out of this, and he could only hope that Snape would stop the examination at his hand. It really was aching, anyway. He blew out a heavy breath and extended his hand to his teacher, palm up.

Snape took it and gently turned it over. Harry watched as the lines in his face hardened and his eyes narrowed at the injury.

“I’ll ask again. What is this?”

Harry was about ninety-nine percent sure that Snape knew exactly what it was, and probably just who had inflicted it, but wanted a confession out of him. Harry had always found it extremely unfair that it was the vic… the hurt person who had to do the difficult part of admitting they had been hurt, rather than the person who had done the hurting.

If Harry hadn’t been so shaky and stressed as the result of fear, he might would have responded with something fiery and sarcastic, but as it was, he didn’t have much energy for it. So he simply muttered “Umbridge. Weird quill,” and turned his face away.

There was complete and utter silence for a long moment before he heard Snape murmur a quiet spell and the familiar sound of potion vials clinking against each other. A warm and damp flannel was pressed against the wound and Harry couldn’t help but to look back over and watch his teacher do his work.

Snape held himself in his typical manner, the majority of his body almost completely still as his potion-stained hands did their task. It was a bit fascinating to watch him when he was all in his element like this.

Harry let out an involuntary “Ow!” when Snape poured the glittery substance over the wound. It stung like a Muggle antiseptic and he (stupidly) had not been expecting it.

“Apologies,” the professor murmured, lifting the hand and inspecting it. He nodded to himself and made a move to push back Harry’s sleeve but Harry reacted swiftly and pulled his arm to his chest.

Snape blew out a heavy breath. “You insufferable child,” he muttered and took hold of Harry’s arm, somehow managing to be gentle as he pried it away. Maybe it was simply a testament of how weak Harry was, but it hardly took the man any effort.

Harry would have sworn that the dungeons dropped about thirty degrees right there and then as he began to shiver uncontrollably. Snape held his wrist in a gentle but firm grip as he pushed back Harry’s sleeve to see whatever he had been looking for. Harry doubted that he had expected to find what he found.

Harry couldn’t help but have his eyes drift over to where Snape was staring slack-jawed. It wasn’t a pretty sight just now, though before Harry had admired his precision. Red lines littered his right forearm, and Harry knew that it didn’t stop there.

“Harry, what…”

***

What have you done to yourself is what he wanted to say, but he somehow managed to keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth as he stared at the marks littering the child’s arm. He knew what they were, of course, but he had never even imagined seeing them on this child’s skin.

Which was ridiculous, really. Severus couldn’t think of any child he knew that had been more traumatized than this one. As if abusive guardians hadn’t been enough, the boy had faced the Dark Lord numerous times, most recently resulting in the death of a classmate. Severus knew that he hadn’t been coping all that well, but he had never considered...

Harry had always held himself so strong. Severus had somehow expected him to keep himself perfectly together and he was blindsided now to see how wrong he really was.

He could feel the boy trembling like a newborn fawn under his hand and Severus made to move his hand up and down Harry’s arm in an effort to calm him while he thought over his next move. What was he to say, what was he to do? It wasn’t as though he had never been in this situation before with one of his Slytherins, but he had never cared quite so much about the outcome. He had never been so, so… close, with a student before.

And they weren’t that close, not really. Severus would never be Harry’s first choice in a confidant. Sirius Black was the boy’s guardian and Severus knew and accepted that. Even if he would have been perfectly willing…

Loathe as he was to admit it, Black made for a good guardian for Harry. Severus had been surprised, initially. He hadn’t expected it to go well at all. But they had needed someone capable of taking guardianship from Harry’s relatives once Severus had realized…

He felt Harry attempt to tug his arm out of his grasp and Severus released him. There wasn’t really a right or proper thing to say at this moment, but he had to say something. Or do something, at least.

He plucked up a potion vial. “Let me see,” he requested softly.

Harry shook his lowered head. “Please,” Severus tried again.

The simple plea seemed to be the breaking point for the child as teardrops started to drip down from his bowed head onto his robes. He extended his tremoring arm and Severus held it gently.

He pushed the raven-haired head against his shoulder, blocking Harry’s view from his work. He cleaned the wounds while the small teen sobbed quietly on his shoulder. His growth had been permanently stunted due to the Dursley’s neglect, and he would likely never exceed Hermione Granger nor Ginny Weasley in height.

Severus prided himself on his skills of observation, but it had taken him and everyone else so very long to realize... Was Harry really such a master at hiding his struggles? Or was it simply that no one cared enough to pay attention until it was shoved in front of their faces?

Severus thought briefly back on that day where everything had changed.

***

They were waiting outside the headmaster’s office as Black was questioned, Severus’ arms crossed over his chest in silent fury whilst the boy paced back and forth restlessly. It was beyond agitating to watch.

He had gone down to the shrieking shack to save the little brat’s arse from Black and Lupin but was instead greeted by the sight of Weasley’s pet rat turning into Peter Pettigrew. All these years he had finally been justified in his hatred of Black only to find that he was innocent of his accused crimes and Pettigrew hadn’t died after all.

Severus wished that he had died, then. Instead, the boy had to play saint and the rat who had killed Lily had gotten away again.

“Why on earth would you want to leave your loving family to go off and live with a man you hardly know, a man who has just escaped from prison?” Severus asked finally. He had overheard the conversation between Black and Harry where the former had made an invitation for the latter to move in with him, and Harry had not hesitated one second before accepting.

“Loving!” Harry laughed, but the sound contained no mirth. “I don’t- they are- I would do
anything to get away from them.”

Severus looked at the child, then, looked at his threadbare Muggle clothes and unnaturally thin frame. Looked at the absolute desperation in his eyes, filled with a longing to escape, to be released, to be free.

“Oh?” Severus inquired, eyebrows raised. “And why is that?”

“They
hate me,” Harry stated firmly, not one bit of doubt straining his voice. “And I hate them.”

“Hate is a very strong word, Mr. Potter,” Severus offered quietly, not liking where this was going. He did know that despite who his father was, Harry was really nothing like him. He did not hate, he loved. The headmaster went on and on about this being his biggest strength.

“I don’t think that it’s strong enough for how I feel about them. Nor how they feel about me.”

Severus was momentarily taken aback by the utter loathing he now could see in the young man’s eyes. He truly hadn’t believed that the boy could hold such contempt for any human being, save for perhaps Voldemort. This was the child who had saved the life of the rat responsible for his parent’s death. There was no heart purer.

“It doesn’t matter what I say about them,” Harry muttered. “No one ever listens. Dumbledore’ll always send me back.”

“Aren’t I listening now?” Severus questioned absently.

“Just because you hear the words doesn’t mean you believe them.”

“No,” Severus agreed. “It doesn’t. But if there’s one thing I do not condone, it is child abuse.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to meet his, then, looking suddenly terrified. As if the term
abuse would absolutely shatter him. As if there was a difference between abuse and the neglect he had suffered through for the majority of his life.

***

It was then that Severus had decided that he was done with sabotaging his school nemesis. He knew that Black was innocent after witnessing the apparent resurrection of Pettigrew, but he had not planned on making his eyewitnesses account of the night’s events quite so straightforward.

Sirius Black was the only one who had any real chance of gaining custody of Harry Potter, but only if he could be cleared of all charges, which was just what happened.

Black behaved far more responsibly about the matter than Severus could have ever imagined. He properly fed, clothed, and cared for the boy. He loved the boy. He had tried everything in his power to get Harry out of the tournament but was ultimately unable to succeed.

Which was what had led them to this moment… being tortured by the Dark Lord and witnessing the death of a classmate… Well, Harry hadn’t been quite himself since that night.

Severus massaged a scar-reducing cream into Harry’s right forearm before releasing it. He lifted the other one and was disturbed to see that it was also littered with red lines. Just how long had this been going on? He gave the left arm the same treatment as the right before moving his hand to Harry’s back and gently rubbing circles onto it.

“It’s okay,” Severus murmured into his ear as he was still sniffling.

“No, it’s not,” Harry argued weakly, voice muffled against his shoulder. “It’s not okay.”

“No,” Severus sighed. “It’s not, is it? Why don’t you talk to me about it?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he groaned, sounding a bit like a spoiled child while being anything but. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I’d say that there is,” Severus retorted. “As you are currently resorting to harming yourself in order to deal with your stress.”

Talking won’t make me want to stop doing this.”

Severus pushed him softly away from his shoulder to look him in his red-rimmed eyes. “Why? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Harry bit his lip, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “I deserve it. I- I need to, to…”

“To punish yourself?” Severus offered softly. Harry nodded and Severus shook his head.

“No, you don’t. Harry, you haven’t done anything worthy of punishment, and even if you had, most certainly not to this extent.”

“What are you on about? I’m the reason he’s back,” Harry snapped. “I’m the reason Cedric d-died.”

“You are not. You were abducted and tortured. The actions of others are no fault of your own.”

“Then why do these things keep happening around me? It’s obviously because of me! If it hadn’t been for me, Cedric would still be alive and you know it.”

“What I know is that if it hadn’t been for the Dark Lord, Cedric would still be alive, along with many others. He is a mass murderer and you know that.”

Harry closed his eyes tightly. “Professor, it doesn’t matter what you say, I-I know that it’s my fault.”

Severus pushed the boy’s fringe back. “I suppose I’ll simply have to do a better job of convincing you otherwise.”

Harry leaned into the hand placed against his forehead but kept his eyes closed. “Good luck with that,” he muttered.

Severus carded his hand through messy hair. “You know that I must inform your guardian of this…”

Harry pulled away instantly. “No!”

Severus sighed. “I have no choice…”

“Everyone has a choice.”

“Even if that were true, I would still choose to tell Black about this. He needs to know.”

Harry hopped off of the desk he had been sitting on top of. “Since when did you two get so buddy buddy?!”

“We are not buddy buddy. I am simply concerned for your well-being and seeing as the mutt is your guardian-“

“Yeah, whatever,” Harry huffed, moving towards the door. Severus grabbed the sleeve of his robe.

“Harry… This is a serious matter. You need help. I can not simply… leave your wounds to fester.”

Harry shrugged off his hand and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. “I know.”

“Well then, will you allow me to help you?”

“Do whatever you feel is necessary, Professor,” Harry sniped. Not exactly compliance, but it was consent enough for Severus.

“Come sit back down,” Severus murmured, guiding him over to the sofa in his office. “I’ll fire call Black.”

***

“How long has this been going on, bud?”

“Since… not long after… Cedric…”

Harry took his usual defensive position of crossing his arms over his chest. Not that Severus was much better, his arms were in the same position. The only difference was that Harry was sitting on the sofa beside Black while Severus stood, suddenly unsure of his place in this conversation.

Somehow Black always managed to make him feel inadequate, often without even trying to do so.

Black sighed, hands held in a tent against his chin as his elbows rested on his knees.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “I know it’s stupid, I-”

“You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Black soothed. “I-I should’ve realized… should’ve noticed…”

“I didn’t want you to notice, Sirius… I, it… it’s just easier to wallow in it rather than to… I don’t know, accept help for it?”

“I know, Harry, but please try for me in the future. You may not always need or want it, but I’ll always be here to help you without judgment. I’m not upset with you, I’m just upset for you.”

Harry nodded but hugged himself tighter.

“Classes are done for the day, yeah?” Black asked. “Why don’t you come home with me for the weekend?”

Harry glanced at Severus. “Is that even allowed?”

Severus nodded. “In certain instances, yes. I believe that this would qualify as one of those.”

Harry colored slightly. “Well, okay then. Sure. I’ll have to grab a few things and tell Ron and Hermione, though.”

Now it was Black looking at Severus, who nodded again. It wouldn’t do any good for Harry to feel that they didn’t trust him, even if they didn’t exactly.

“Alright, kiddo,” Black said tightly, ruffling Harry’s hair a bit. “Hurry back.”

“I will,” Harry said as he left the office. Black sank down into the sofa cushions.

“I can’t believe… I mean obviously, I do, but it’s just…”

“Surprising,” Severus offered, still standing a bit stiffly with his arms crossed.

“Yes,” Black agreed, “surprising.”

They were silent for long moments, lost in their own thoughts or just plain awkwardness, Severus was unsure.

“What do I do?” Severus’ enemy for all intents and purposes asked him seriously. “I never thought that…”

Severus uncrossed his arms and instead clasped his hands behind his back. Despite everything that had occurred between them in the past couple of years, it was still baffling to have a man with whom he shared such a mutual hatred asking him for his advice.

“I would suggest a mind healer,” Severus stated seriously. “I believe that he is suffering from survivor’s guilt and possibly PTSD, but I’m in no way a professional which is why he needs one. Clearly, he is not coping well and he needs someone to help him overcome this as it is not a problem that will simply sort itself out. He has been doing this to himself for quite a few months and simply attempting to remove everything sharp from his reach will not work out in the end, nor will it solve the actual problem. He has been suffering in silence and he needs someone to hear him scream, whether he realizes it or not.”

Black nodded slowly, seemingly taking the words to heart. “I thought that once we got him away from the Dursleys, everything would be okay. I never even considered...”

“You could hardly have expected him to be kidnapped and witness the death of a classmate,” Severus supplied awkwardly.

“Yes, well I suppose that’s just one of the unexpected bumps in our parenthood journey.”

Severus scoffed. “‘Our’ journey?”

Black shrugged. “I mean we’re basically, what’s the word… co-parenting here, aren’t we?”

Severus stiffened. Parent? Him? Severus?

“Black, this is a parent-teacher conference and nothing more. You are the parent and I am the teacher.”

Severus only became more irritated when Black just smirked in response.

“Keep telling yourself that, Sev.”

Severus’ nostrils flared. “Do not call me tha-”

The office door creaked open and Harry entered, green eyes shining brightly in the darkness of the dungeons. He had a small knapsack thrown over his shoulder. “I’m ready to go.”

Severus’ glare did not lessen as Black stood and gently took Harry by the shoulder. “Great! We’ll just uh- we can floo to the hospital wing as it’s closest to the entrance and from there we’ll walk to the apparition point in Hogsmeade…”

“This sounds a bit like a trap,” Harry said. “I don’t need to stop by the hospital wing.”

“No, no, don’t worry about that,” Black assured. "We won’t be stopping, just passing through. It’s a quicker route.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “You realize that I just walked all the way to the tower and back, right?”

“Yes, well, not all of us can be youthful Gryffindors,” Black said, taking a pinch of floo powder from Severus’ mantel. “You don’t mind, do you, Snape?”

“Help yourself,” Severus said, rolling his eyes. Black winked before throwing the floo powder into the fireplace and disappearing into the green flames.

“Just know that I charge interest on all loans,” Severus muttered once he’d gone.

Harry smiled hesitantly, floo powder in his hand. “I’m, er… sorry, Professor.”

“Whatever for?” Severus sighed. If one thing hadn’t changed in recent months, it was Harry’s constant need to apologize.

“Uh… for Sirius asking for your floo powder after he’d already taken it… And for, erm… letting me get snot all over your shoulder and stuff.”

Severus grimaced. It hadn’t bothered him at the time but the mental picture he was having now was not a pretty one. He would have to launder his robes as soon as Harry had gone.

“Sometimes sacrifices must be made, Mr. Potter,” he said, coming closer to him to take a better look at the boy. His eyes were still a bit red-rimmed but he otherwise appeared to be alright. On the outside, anyway. “It is nothing of consequence.”

Harry nodded. “Well, I better go before Sirius starts to freak.”

Severus smirked. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world. But yes, I suppose that it would be best to get going.”

Harry bit his lip and threw the powder in. Before jumping in, though, he turned to give Severus a very brief hug. “Thanks,” he whispered. And then he had gone.

It was… not an unpleasant experience. Almost a bit heartwarming, maybe, but that could have simply been the result of standing so close to the fireplace. Who could tell, really?

Perhaps, he was a bit more than just a teacher. But he was in no way co-parenting with Sirius Black, that was for certain.
The End.
End Notes:
Bruh, I've been working on this one for ages. When I started it I really thought it wouldn't take me long... finally got it! Very much inspired by the fifth chapter of my other work, Scissors. I'm greatly intrigued with the idea that Umbridge's quill could cause self-harm urges, be it a relapse or a continuation. Like yeah, I really hate her.

Speaking of that, I kind of forgot about the whole Severus needing to tell Sirius about the blood quill thing. It is possible that I will do another piece in Sirius' POV about the weekend home, but if I don't, just know that either Severus sends Sirius a letter about it as he'd forgotten about it himself with everything going on, or they discussed it before when the scene cut to Harry and Sirius talking. I feel like it would be a better conversation opener than "hey, your kid is self-harming." I could have written it in there, but I preferred it to flow the way I originally wrote it. Anyway, in my vision, as Harry's guardian, Sirius will be able to actually do something about the Umbitch problem. File a complaint with the ministry, have a trial, kill her, whatever.

Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed it! I know that it was angsty but hey, it's me. I hope you're all doing well and taking care of yourselves, and hopefully have a Severus or a Sirius in your life, or both! If not, at least know that I am proud of you and wish you well :)


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=3705