Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Sorrow

Severus Snape had placed the boy on the sofa in his sitting room and was now pacing agitatedly in front of it. He could barely keep his magic from exploding every vial in the room, let alone sit still!

He dearly wanted to find Lupin and break his neck, but he knew Albus wouldn't agree to that.

He stopped his pacing and looked at the boy's face, still troubled despite the Dreamless Sleep. His scowl got deeper and he came to an abrupt halt in the middle of his quarters. He closed his eyes and drew on his occlumency shields for what felt like the umpteenth time that hour. In reality, he had only needed to adjust it twice that evening, but for a man such as he, twice was far too often!

Unbidden, the recorded images of the child's testimony spell came to him and he endured them painfully as they paraded past his inner eye.

Lupin leaning over the boy, calloused fingers pushing clothing aside to reveal soft youthful flesh—Severus felt his gut churning and he forced his nausea to disappear behind his mental shields; forced himself to view the account calmly and dispassionately in order to best provide proof to Albus.

But it was too much. This was Lily's son, for Merlin's sake. He barely made it to the toilet in time to keep from making a mess on the floor as his stomach rebelled against the horrendous reality.

Once back in control of himself, freshening spells applied, he carefully made his way back into his sitting room and allowed himself to look on the sleeping form of the child. Harry was curled up in a tight ball on one end of his sofa, leaving more than enough room for Severus sink into the cushion on the other side.

"I knew something was wrong, Lily," he whispered, touching his fingers lightly to the edge of one frayed sock.

Mind made up, he stood up and made his way over to his floo. Pinching a bit of the magical dust between finger and thumb, he threw it into the grating and called out the appropriate address for the headmaster's office. It was late, but not too late, and he doubted he would have to do much else to track the old man down.

"Severus!" Dumbledore greeted him jovially through the fire. "Would you like to step through?"

Severus glanced over his shoulder and then turned back towards the fire with a grimace. "I'd think it best if I remained here, Albus."

Albus's eyes narrowed under white bushy eyebrows, his face suddenly much more serious.

"Shall I come through then?"

A pause, and then Severus gave a tiny nod. "Yes, do. We have something important to discuss."

. . .

Poppy stepped into the floo and stated her destination, her mind on the worrisome call she had just received from the headmaster only moments before.

"What's going on here Severus?" She asked immediately upon exiting the fireplace into Severus's own quarters. Behind him was a sofa, and curled up in a tiny ball was Harry Potter, asleep.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Poppy," Albus answered instead, stepping out from the side of the room and taking her arm gently. His face was lined and his countenance suggested a man who was deeply troubled.

Poppy felt something clench tight within her gut, but she did not react outwardly and turned back to Severus for an explanation.

"Poppy," Severus began in a low voice. "Mr. Potter came to me tonight for help . . ." he trailed off, glancing back at Albus uneasily.

"And?" She demanded, peering up at them both impatiently.

"Poppy, we need you to check Harry for sexual assault," Albus finished, his face a paragon of sadness.

"What?" She exclaimed with a gasp, looking back and forth from either man; her eyes silently demanding that they explain themselves immediately.

"Would you just do as the headmaster asked, Poppy?" Severus snapped, eyes glowing unusually brightly at her.

Her first instinct was to snap right back at him, but something in his face stopped her. Severus Snape was never one to openly display his emotions, but that evening, Poppy got a glimpse of the pain in his eyes, and for once decided to forgive his harsh behavior.

"Of course," she said softly, moving past both men and beginning the diagnostic scans.

. . .

Harry awoke up to find Snape sitting in an armchair next to his head, reading what appeared to be some kind of potions journal.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said when he saw that he was awake.

Harry flinched back into the cushion farther and covered his eyes with his hands. Lupin had called him that. Lupin had called him that and then he had—he had violated the trust between them. Harry shuddered and curled up into an even smaller position.

"Harry," Snape's voice was softer and he peered out from under his hands, blinking owlishly at the blurry dark haired figure in front of him.

"Your glasses, Harry," Snape said, pressing his well worn spectacles into his hands. He grasped at them wordlessly, and then shoved him them on his face as quickly as possible. He despised being blind as much as he despised being left in the dark about issues that concerned him.

"We are alone at present, Mr. P—Harry, but I am quite certain that the headmaster will want to speak with you later."

"What about Prof—what about Lupin?" He whispered hoarsely; crossing his arms securely in front of his chest and gripping his biceps tightly. He had edged up into more of a sitting position, but he was still pressed rather deeply into the sofa itself.

I don't have to call Lupin professor now—and I don't want to!

Just thinking about it made him feel sick to his stomach and he pinched the skin on his upper arms tighter still as the nausea rolled through him.

"He has been detained by the aurors and they are interrogating him now," Snape's lip seemed to curl up in distaste at Harry's question.

Harry didn't know that Snape's use of the word "interrogating" was synonymous with "torturing;" nor was he aware of just how intimately acquainted his potions professor was with the process. But that's not where Severus's distaste was stemming from—not entirely at least.

Snape had wanted to poison the man with something particularly gruesome and slow acting, but had been denied the opportunity by Dumbledore.

Harry could sense that there was a great deal that the man in front of him was not saying, but he wasn't suicidal enough to press the issue, at least not yet.

"What happens now?" He whispered, his eyes darting around the room as they hunted for a clock.

"It was half-past three in the morning, Mr—Harry. I had not expected you to wake yet, but since you have, it would probably be best to talk to the headmaster now."

"He's not asleep?" Harry asked, pulling his knees up under his chin and repositioning his arms around them.

Snape's face sharpened and his eyes narrowed in what seemed to be surprise.

"Of course he is not asleep," the man huffed indignantly.

Harry thought about the situation for a moment and then ventured a guess. "I suppose there's a lot of paperwork involved in removing someone as a professor?"

"That is entirely beside the point, Harry," Snape answered coldly. "You, Harry Potter, were attacked under his very nose, under his care."

Harry blinked and tightened his arms around his knees. "Is he angry?"

"He is livid," Snape hissed.

"At me?" The words tumbled out before he could stop them.

"Why in Merlin's name would he be angry at you?"

Harry didn't have an answer for the growled question.

"Harry, he cares for you very deeply," Snape finally said through gritted teeth, almost as though the admittance pained him.

"Like Lupin?" Harry asked and then flinched backwards, throwing himself to the other side of the sofa and covering his face with his hands.

Oh god oh god oh god. I just spoke back to him. He's gonna kill me!

However, when no attack came—either verbal or physical—Harry hesitantly lifted his head from his hands and peered back at his professor.

Snape had moved to the end of the sofa where he had been moments before, but no farther. He was gazing back at him with a miserable expression and for one split second, Harry wondered if he should try to comfort him in some way.

"Harry, I'm so sorry that your professors did not keep you safe from him," Snape said at long last.

An apology? From Snape?

"We failed you, all of us. And Albus feels the same, but his grief is a thousand times more potent."


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