Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you so much JK Rowling for giving us your wonderful characters and universe to stretch our imaginations to the limit.

Tabitha/ObsidianEmbrace, what would I do without you? You have made writing so enjoyable for me, and I appreciate your time and effort in catching my mistakes and giving me tips to make my writing better. I've learnt so much from you.
Where is Home?

Harry clutched the crisp, starched bed sheets tightly as his mind raced, and his heart beat loudly beneath his chest.

He could hear whispering and strained his ears to hear better, but to no avail.

Harry tried to still his nervousness, but cold dread and fear made that impossible. Would Dumbledore even give him a chance to explain, or would he simply ship him back to the Dursleys? Harry wasn't one to whine, and he wouldn't beg, but if he didn't tell them about how his relatives treated him, Dumbledore would do like he usually did; pat him on the back, give him a lemon drop and send him on his way. On the other hand, admitting his weakness, admitting his vulnerability, especially in front of the man who had delivered nothing but cruel taunts and scathing comments for the past two years was out of the question.

There was a little voice in the back of his head that reminded Harry that Snape had given him food, helped steady him when he'd been about to pass out, had taken him to his real home to seek comfort, and brought him to the hospital wing instead of dragging him back to his relatives. Still though, he knew hecouldn't trust the man. Maybe he had only brought him here so he would be able to boast to Dumbledore, that he'd done his duty, and now he could wash his hands of the brat-who-lived.

No, Snape was an adult, and a nasty one at that. Harry didn't trust adults. They murmured sweet pleasantries in your ear, assured you that they had your best interest at heart, and then conveniently forgot about you when you really needed them. Besides there had never been any love lost between himself and Snape, and he wasn't about to reveal his deepest fears and secrets to a man who could use them to make his life miserable.

While he did feel that Dumbledore cared about him; that much was obvious, would he believe Harry if he revealed how his relatives treated him, and if he did admit how bad it was at home, would Dumbledore confront the Dursleys and threaten them, but send him back there anyway? His uncle would certainly take it out on his hide then. No! No one could know. One thing that Harry still had was his pride, and he would not tolerate being pitied.

Harry panicked though. There was no way he was going to be able to hide his injuries. He had to think quickly. Maybe he could lie and say that he'd been in a car accident, or he fell down the stairs. Yeah that was it; he would think of a convincing story. But then they'd send you back, his logical mind argued. There was no way out of this. His stomach began to churn again, and the sheets felt moist under his clenched fists.

He had to run. He felt suffocated. He had to get out of here. That was it; that was what he'd do. He jumped off the bed, and looked around wildly for an escape route. Suddenly, he felt foolish. Snape had his trunk, and Hedwig's cage. Where the hell would he go anyway? He was trapped.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry jumped.

He whirled around, his eyes wide and glassy with fear. Snape stood there, with his arms crossed and glaring at him disapprovingly.

"Just what do you think you're doing? Get back on that bed immediately before we have to peel you off the floor, you foolish boy.”

Madame Pomfrey was standing by his side, looking every bit as disapproving, but she rushed over and gently took his frail arm and helped him back on the bed.

"That's a nasty bruise under your eye, Mr. Potter."

Harry flinched when he felt her cool fingers poke and prod the bruised skin.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned when she eyed the angry red scratches on his neck, but it took enormous discipline from her years of training not to show emotion when she had eventually managed to unfurl Harry's clutched fingers from the fabric of his shirt, and she delicately undid the buttons. She gasped. His chest was mottled with bruises, and Harry sucked in a painful breath when she patted her fingers over a particularly large one.

"Just what I suspected. I'll perform a diagnostic to be sure, but-" She looked at Severus. "-I believe that his right rib is broken."

"Mr. Potter, I need you to remove your trousers and put this on." She held up a thin, white hospital gown.

Harry's eyes widened. She expected him to put that on? And remove his trousers? No bloody way! Did that thing even tie up in the back?

Harry shook his head.

"Mr. Potter," Snape growled. "Do as you're told and stop this nonsense immediately," he said sternly.

Harry was torn between obeying his professor, and taking off like a bat out of hell. He was quite a fast runner, and was used to evading his uncle and cousin. He was quite slippery, if he might say so himself.

On the other hand, looking at the very tall, very dark, and very menacing-looking man towering over him, Harry decided that perhaps his chances of escape this time were not very high. Besides, he was certainly not in any fit state to out-run a fully-grown man, twice his size.

Harry stared at him and clutched the hospital gown to his chest, not realising just how frail and young he looked.

Madame Pomfrey felt a twinge of pity. With a flick of her wand, the metal rungs jangled along the pole, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the curtains enveloped him in privacy.

Removing his trousers was not as easy a task, as one would imagine. Not only did Harry feel as though he'd been run over by a Hippogriff, the congealed blood from where he'd scraped his knee, stuck to his jeans. Harry winced as he slowly peeled the fabric away.

Harry felt painful tingles up his arms as he tried to knot the strings in the back of his gown. Harry had stubbornly kept on his boxers. There was no way he was parading his behind for Madame Pomfrey, and especially not for Snape to see.

"Mr. Potter, are you ready?" Madame's Pomfrey asked in a cool, professional manner. What Harry didn't know was how she was struggling to keep her composure-- a sense of professionalism. Severus had explained his concerns and suspicions, and Poppy was horrified that Harry Potter, the defeater of You-Know-Who, the saviour of the wizarding world, could possibly have been treated so cruelly and so ruthlessly. If anyone deserved to be taken care of, and cherished, it was this poor, delicate child. And to be treated so horribly by his own family; the very people who were sworn to protect and care for him.

If Poppy or Harry but knew it, Severus was having similar thoughts. Of course, he was still trying to find an alternate explanation for Potter's injuries that didn't involve his Uncle using him as a punching bag. He really didn't want to have these feelings of pity for the boy that he hated with a passion. The boy who so resembled James Bloody Potter. But as the reserved man stared at the young boy, the mere child, with the hospital gown hanging off of his thin frame, the bruise that marred his pale skin, and the eye that was now almost swollen shut, Severus had to school his expression to hide his feelings of pity and outrage. He was quite shocked by his own reaction actually; he wanted nothing more than to throttle the man that had so cold-heartedly beat on a young child in such a manner.

Severus Snape may be known as an emotionless tyrant, and extremely cold and disciplined, but few knew the suffering that he himself had endured at the hands of his abusive, alcoholic father.

Yes, Severus Snape and Harry Potter had much more in common than anyone would guess, and more than Severus would ever care to admit. Severus never spoke of his tortured childhood, and never would. He, much like Harry, hated being pitied.

Harry sucked in a deep breath.

"Yeah,” he finally said. “As ready as I'll ever be, he thought dejectedly. He sighed in resignation. Once Pomfrey and Snape had a look at his injures, there would be no going back. He'd been fooling himself, if he thought that he could trick them, he realised. Harry had learnt a long time ago, that one never truly pulled the wool over Snape's eyes. The man could extract your deepest secrets from the depths of your soul, Harry was convinced. How he did it, Harry wasn't certain, but he was sure that the man had some sort of power that had something to do with the way he could drill holes into you with those endless pools of black. He shuddered. The man made him very nervous indeed.

"Good, now let's get this over with, and then we can give you something for the pain, Mr. Potter, and you can rest," Poppy said in a no-nonsense voice.

Harry was thankful for her professional manner. He couldn't handle it if the matron were to start fawning all over him. He wanted to get this over with and close his eyes. He just felt so weak and tired all of a sudden.

Poppy did a quick check, announced that he did indeed have a cracked rib, and a mild concussion. As well, he had some external bruising which could be healed quite easily. She handed him a phial of blue-coloured potion, and sternly told him to drink it all.

Harry made a face, but pinched his nose, and downed it quickly. He grimaced. "What the hell is in that?" he exclaimed. "Cat pee? It tastes horrid."

"Mr. Potter, kindly watch your language, or I can perhaps find something even more foul-tasting to wash your mouth out with," Snape threatened.

Harry scowled at him, but clamped his mouth shut tight.

Severus was loath to admit it, but he was relieved that the boy still had some fighting spirit in him, even if his arrogance grated on his nerves. Better that, than to have his spirit broken; physical wounds were easy to heal—psychological wounds were much more difficult.

Harry began to feel a little woozy, and he sighed in relief as his pain eased away. His face heated up when Madame Pomfrey gently helped him lie down on the bed, and neatly tucked him in. She lightly batted his fingers away when he tried to protest that he wasn't a child and could tuck himself in.

"Potter, stop being an ungrateful brat and stop fighting those who are trying to help you," Snape barked impatiently. "Now lie down, and do as you're told for once in your life."

"I'm sorry," he apologised to Madame Pomfrey sheepishly. "I'm just not used to-" he flushed. "-I'm not used to anyone, you know-"

"You're not used to anyone taking care of you," Poppy nodded in understanding.

Oh Merlin… Harry felt like his face was on fire.

Snape was studying him intently again, and he was relieved when he felt the potion take hold, and his eyelids grow heavy.

-----------

Harry awoke to the sounds of raised voices. He tried to sit up too quickly, and his head started to spin. He plopped down on the pillow and closed his eyes for a moment.

Severus' jaw dropped. "Surely, you are not serious, Headmaster."

Albus' blue eyes twinkled. "Oh quite, Severus."

"No, absolutely not. I refuse," Severus said firmly.

Albus' expression grew hard. "You were the one who stated in no uncertain terms, were you not, that you would not allow Harry to return to his relatives? Or to quote you: Over my dead body, will I allow the boy return to those pathetic Muggles."

"Yes, but-"

"Then, I fail to see your objections Severus," Albus said calmly.

Severus looked at him incredulously. "You don't see my objections! You don't see the potential problems of me sharing living space with James Potter's progeny, even for a short time?"

"I think that it's about time that you take your blinders off, Severus. He is not James, and you are no longer fifteen. I think that it's time you acted your age," Albus said sternly.

"But surely the boy would be happier with the Weasleys. Or just about anyone other than me," he sneered.

Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. Severus could be amazingly stubborn and blind-sighted when he chose to be. While he respected the younger man deeply, and admired his bravery, he was too consumed with revenge and insisted on hanging on to childhood grudges.

"Severus, the Weasleys are out of the country for at least another two weeks, and there is no one else. Besides, with Black on the loose, there is no place that I feel that Harry is safer than Hogwarts, and there is no one that I would trust to protect him better," he said softly.

Severus wasn't sure why, but the man seemed to have a way of manipulating him to do what he wanted. It was rather disconcerting for him to realise that he, the ultimate Slytherin could be manipulated so thoroughly by the ultimate Gryffindor. But the man knew just how to pull him in; just what strings to pull, to get him to do his bidding.

"How do you think that Lily would react to you refusing to protect her son?" Albus said softly.

Severus lost what little colour he had left in his face. "How dare you Albus!"

"I dare because Harry needs you, and you owe him; you owe Lily," Albus said in a voice of steel.

Severus' eyes flashed in anger. "I owe Potter nothing," he spat.

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he said in a hard voice. "Harry is an orphan, Severus. His parents are gone. He wouldn't have needed to go live with his relatives if his parents hadn't been murdered. If someone hadn't revealed the prophecy to Voldemort."

"You go too far," Severus said with gritted teeth.

"Forgive me Severus, but that boy has been through enough and now with this new revelation about his relatives, and the added threat of Black on the loose, I need someone I can trust to protect the boy with his life."

Albus, despite his words, did feel a twinge of guilt for using such drastic tactics in convincing Severus that this was the right thing to do.

Albus looked at Severus deeply in the eyes. "I know that you will not shirk your responsibility, Severus. I trust you."

Severus sighed in resignation. "I don't know if I can do this, Albus. The boy is reckless, disobedient and arrogant, just like his-"

"That is enough Severus," Albus said. "Take the time to get to know him, and you might be surprised at what you discover."

The man was positively barmy if he thought that he and Potter would ever get along, or that he would ever change his mind about the spoilt, arrogant fool. He was a Potter, and leopards didn't change their spots. The boy had no regard for the rules, and thought the world revolved around him. But Severus just couldn't get the image of the small, broken child staring back at him with his sad green eyes. Lily's eyes.

"Very well, Albus," he finally agreed, knowing that no matter how much he protested, in the end he would end up doing what Albus wanted anyway.

Albus nodded in satisfaction. "You won't regret it, my boy."

"I highly doubt that Headmaster.”

"Come, let's go tell Harry," Albus said happily.

Severus rolled his eyes, as Albus swept off in front of him, his garishly blue, moon and star-adorned robes billowing behind him.

"I'm sure that he'll be thrilled with the news."

Ever the optimist, Severus thought disgustingly.

--------------

Harry ran back to his bed at the sounds of footsteps coming his way. He had, once his head had stopped swirling like a top, tip-toed quietly to eavesdrop behind the curtains, and quite frankly was horrified at what he had heard. He had to stay with Snape, until school started! Harry was beginning to wonder if perhaps if he wasn't jumping from the kettle to the frying pan. But, he told himself firmly, that Snape, although a real bastard at times, had always protected him. And he had convinced Dumbledore not to send him back to the Dursleys. Harry was quite relieved that he had had Snape to fight this battle for him. He had been terrified that Dumbledore was going to make him admit what his relatives had done to him, and he really had no desire to relive that experience, and see the pity in the man's eyes.

Still, while the man had fought tooth and nail for him, this was still Snape.. He really had no desire to spend the next couple of weeks with the Greasy Git! And now he had to pretend to be surprised at the news. Well, one thing was certain, he wouldn't have to pretend to be horrified.

Harry didn't quite make it back to his bed, when the curtains parted and the bright lights of the hospital wing, made his eyes water.

He looked up guilty at Dumbledore's smiling form, and Snape's lifted eyebrow, that said that he wasn't fooled in the slightest.

"What are you doing out of bed Potter?" he snapped. "Get back into that bed immediately before you undo all of Madame Pomfrey's hard work.”

Harry clutched at the back of his hospital gown to keep it closed and scurried back to bed. He hadn't put his slippers on, and his feet felt like blocks of ice.

Harry scrambled into bed, and pulled the covers up to his chest, but for some reason, he couldn't seem to warm up.

Severus pursed his lips. "For Heaven’s sake Potter, are you trying to add pneumonia to your list of injuries?"

With a flick of his wand, Harry suddenly felt warmth tingle from his toes to his head.

He looked up in surprise. "Thank you sir," he said gratefully.

"Yes well, you won't be thanking me if I find you out of bed again, is that clear?"

Harry gulped.

"Yes sir," he said nervously.

Snape looked at him sternly. "You will not move one toe out of bed, without Madame Pomfrey's permission, do you understand me?"

Harry nodded.

Snape lifted an eyebrow.

"Uh… yes sir." he added quickly.

No point in pissing the man off if he was going to be forced to live with him, Harry thought dejectedly. Why did the Weasleys have to be out of the country. Harry was burning with curiosity. He wondered where they could have gone. It wasn't like they had loads of money, and could afford to take frivolous trips around the world.

Albus watched the whole scene and couldn't help the corners of his mouth lifting. While he felt an enormous amount of guilt about how he'd failed Harry, he couldn't help thinking that perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. He'd never say it to Severus' face, but it was rather shocking to see the man fuss over Harry's welfare. Of course he'd never suggest to Severus that what he was feeling was concern.

Albus walked over and sat down on Harry's bed. Severus stood in the background, a sour look on his face.

The bed sunk with Albus' weight. "Well Harry, how have you been?" he asked kindly.

Harry lowered his eyes, and shrugged his shoulders. What was he supposed to say? Oh, I've been jolly good sir. My aunt is enjoying the sights of England as she bounces through the clouds as a balloon. Oh, and by the way, my uncle beat the living daylights out of me. Not exactly conversation you have with afternoon tea.

"Mr. Potter," Snape scolded, "the Headmaster has asked you a question, kindly respond with a verbal response, as is polite.”

"I'm sorry sir," Harry said apologetically to Dumbledore. "It's just that, uh, things have been a little-" he felt his face warm up. "-uh, crazy."

Albus was silent for a moment, before he broached the subject that Harry was dreading.

"Harry, Professor Snape has told me that your relatives have not treated you very well," he said sadly.

Severus snorted. That was the understatement of the year.

Harry twisted the sheets in his fingers. He really didn't want to talk about this. He didn't want to admit that the Dursleys considered him little more than the dirt beneath their feet; that he was never loved and never wanted.

Harry felt ashamed when a single tear rolled down his cheek. He brushed it away quickly with his hand, and looked up to see what he had been dreading--the look of pity in Dumbledore's eyes.

He peeked a glance over at Snape, and was surprised when the man, while not showing discernible emotion, was not wearing his usual mask of indifference either. Harry was hard-pressed to pin-point what emotion the man could have been feeling, if any at all.

Harry shook his head. "No sir, they didn't."

"I know that perhaps you are reluctant to discuss the details, but I hope that you will come to me if you need to talk." he said gently.

"Thank you, sir," he said gratefully. He let out a sigh of relief that the man wasn't going to push him to talk. Especially not in front of Snape. That would be just too humiliating.

"Harry-" Albus felt choked up with emotion as he peered into the pale young face, with the eyes that were so trusting. How could he ever express his sorrow that he'd been so blind as not to see what those relatives of had put him through. How could he ever make it up to this child? He'd failed him. Failed to protect an innocent child from his own relatives who were supposed to love and cherish him and treat him as their own son. When Severus had described the injuries that Harry had sustained at the hands of his uncle, Albus had been consumed with a fury that he'd not felt in a long time, and he knew that he'd have to restrain himself when dealing with the Muggles, or he'd end up in Azkaban. But, he vowed that they would pay.

"Harry," he repeated, "I'm so very sorry my boy. I'm sorry that I didn't protect you better." He grasped Harry's hand. "I promise you that I'll do better by you from now on."

As Severus watched this scene, a feeling of suffocation crept over him. Albus was making these promises to the boy, and placing his trust in him to treat Potter better than the Muggles, but although Severus, while having a violent temper when provoked, had never struck a child; mind you, he'd never been saddled with a child like Harry Potter before for extended periods of time. Would he be able to control himself when he was around the brat? Would he disappoint Albus again, like he'd done so many times before?

Severus had had to endure many a tongue-lashing from Albus for his overly harsh treatment of his students, particularly Harry bloody Potter. He had been on the other end of Minerva's barbed tongue as well. The other professors weren't brave enough to confront him directly, but they hadn't hesitated to go running to Dumbledore the minute that he assigned one of their little darlings a detention dicing flobberworms, or taken off, what they’d considered unfair points from their Houses.

Now, he'd be spending three weeks sharing his quarters with and being in close proximity to James Potter's son. Could he control himself? Would he be a better guardian than the Muggles? As much as he resented Albus for saddling him with the boy, he vowed that he would exercise iron control when dealing with the boy, no matter the provocation. Of course, he wouldn't take any crap from him, and he'd have rules for the boy to follow--many rules. And the boy had better not break those rules, but he'd make sure that the child got proper nutrition, rest and stability. Severus had always seen that the boy was very small and thin for his age, but when Poppy informed him that the boy was suffering from malnutrition, Severus began to fear that the abuse was more extensive than they realised. He had seen Potter struggle with the meagre meal that he'd provided for him at the Leaky Cauldron, and he had suspected then that the boy hadn't eaten for awhile, but Poppy's diagnosis confirmed for him what he had suspected.

What the hell was he thinking? It was only for three bloody weeks, and he was already planning how he could be a better guardian for Harry Potter than those pathetic Muggles. Was he confunded? He really had no desire to be stuck with the brat, and he fiercely resented Albus for forcing his hand.

"Now Harry," Albus continued, “there are only three weeks left till the term begins, but the Weasleys are out of the country at the moment, and I have some business to attend to in the next couple of weeks, and will be out of town frequently." He hesitated. "Professor Snape has agreed-"Severus glared at him fiercely. "-to allow you to stay with him until school commences."

Harry grit his teeth, and forced himself to nod his head and say, "Yes sir," but one look at Snape's sour expression, and Harry knew that it was going to be a very long three weeks!

Chapter End Notes:
Can Snape and Harry co-exist? Or will the two of them scratch each other's eyes out?

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