From up here he could see the black lake. He could see it shimmer and ripple underneath the moon, moonlight glittering across its surface. It looked beautiful, just like the breeze sweeping through the trees of the forbidden forest. From up here everything looked peaceful, nothing like the raging storm building up inside him. His soul tattered and broken, tainted and tarnished by the people in his life. By his godfather who left too soon, by the boy who Harry had failed so miserably, and by the adults who were supposed to love and protect him. 

Harry Potter was broken. 

But everything else wasn’t. 

Harry Potter was dead inside.

But everything outside wasn’t.

Nobody noticed that he’d stopped eating, or noticed that he could never keep his food down anyway. No one noticed when he stopped talking to them, or that his friends weren’t his friends anymore. No one noticed him. Harry Potter was just the boy who lived, nothing more, nothing less. He was just their saviour, not worth saving. 

No one had noticed when he made the trek up to the astronomy tower, even when he wasn’t shrouded in his invisibility cloak. They didn’t pay attention to the thin raven haired boy, when he slipped out through the portrait hole. There wasn’t anyone in the hallways to notice him, nighttime having called them to their beds. He hadn’t encountered a Professor patrolling, them having not made it to this part of the castle yet. 

He was alone, or at least he thought he was. Harry believed he was alone, believed that no one cared as he slipped his feet off the edge of the astronomy tower. 

The strong arms that hastily wrapped around his middle said otherwise. They didn’t relent in their strong grip until he’d been dragged back into the tower. The person behind him pulling him into their chest, the arms never relenting in their strong grip. Harry pushed and struggled, wriggled in their grip. But they never wavered. “Please, let me go.”

The response was firm, the reply solid and set in stone. 

“No.”

He knew it was Professor Snape, just from the silky tone to his voice. It didn’t fill him with panic like he expected it to, it just made him cry. Of all the people that might’ve cared if he lived, it was the man who supposedly hated him the most. He couldn’t stop the sobs that racked his body, that made his breaths come in gasps. Tears splashed down his face, wetting the skin of his cheeks. “Why? Why do you care?” 

It was nothing more than a whisper, quiet and withdrawn. But it sounded loud in the awful quiet of the tower. 

“Because, you deserve to live, child. Whatever made you do this, it was not worth it. Nothing is.” 

Harry could tell he was concerned, the words hesitant and quiet. It didn’t stop him from ripping from the grasp of those arms, facing his Professor with heartbroken eyes. “But why? No one likes me, no one even sees me. I’m just the boy who lived, I'm nothing. All people see is someone who survived a killing curse, or someone who’s fit for being a house elf. They don’t see Harry, not even you. All you see is my father, but I’m nothing like him. My father was a bully, he was arrogant, just like you said. But I’m not that. I’m just Harry.”

His eyes are pleading, pleading for the man to see him as Harry. To see him for more than just some boy who survived a curse, a curse that was supposed to kill him. One that Harry sometimes wished had succeeded. 

The onyx eyes staring back softened, the anger that made them squint in disgust faded. “You are, I see that now. I was wrong before, I was blinded by my hate for your father. But not any longer. Even if I was still blinded by hate, that does not change the fact that you deserve to live.” Snape’s eyes were the ones pleading now, widened and filled with a longing for Harry to realise someone cared. 

Harry couldn’t take the raw feeling in his chest, the prolonged eye contact fueling it. He dropped his eyes to the floor, hot tears beading up in his eyes. They slid down his cheeks like twin waterfalls, salty water leaving trails along his pale skin. There weren’t any words he could say, he didn’t know how to reply to that. To someone telling him that they cared, that he was worth more than a broken bleeding body at the bottom of the astronomy tower. 

Through the tears making his vision blurry, he stared up at the dark night sky. Taking in the stars that filled it, glittering and shining in the night. Before long he couldn’t see them, too many tears spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks. Sobs escaped his lips, jolting his body harshly as he cried. Even though he felt cracked inside, broken completely. He still fell apart, his heart pounding in his chest as his soul ached. 

He would have collapsed to the floor in pain, if not for the strong hand that cupped the back of his head, pulling it until it pressed into a warm chest. Another arm wrapped around his back, pulling him in so close to the black robed figure. He sobbed into the black fabric, breathing in the scent of various potions. The man’s hand stroked his back, the other threading through his messy hair. “Hush child, It’ll be alright.” He didn’t protest, just kneeled there on the wooden floor, body ensconced in Professor Snape’s arms.

It didn’t take long for his exhausted body to fall asleep, his consciousness falling down into the black abyss of sleep. He wasn’t awake to notice the Potion Master gently lifting his body, carrying him safely in his arms. Harry didn’t notice as the man carried him all the way down the castle, deep into the heart of the dungeons. Didn’t notice as he was placed on the Potion Master’s own bed, glasses slipped off his face. He wasn’t aware, even when the covers were safely tucked around him. It wasn’t until he was warm and safe, when consciousness came back, only slightly. But it was enough to be aware of the Potion Master’s hand stroking the hair from his face, and the man placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

Harry wasn’t aware of his soul piecing its way back together, the cracks rejoining. The cold dark feeling in his chest slowly ebbing away. All because he finally knew someone cared.