Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

For Harry

"Harry, open your eyes," was the first thing that Harry heard after sinking into miserable darkness who knew how long ago.

Turning his head to the side (and noting its soreness), he softly groaned out, "Don't wanna."

"Very eloquently spoken, Harry," was his guardian's familiar response.

"You try taking a bludger to the brain and see how well you speak afterward," he growled, squinting up through the blinding light to see Severus' dark outline overhead.

"Tree branch," Severus corrected softly.

"Tree branch, bludger . . ." Harry muttered. "What's the difference?"

He heard a snort and he tried to smile. The light was still hurting his eyes, but not as badly as before. He didn't mind it though—not really—for it let him focus on something other than the fear induced pounding of his heart.

Severus found me, he thought. But why?

"What are you thinking about?" Severus asked, his voice still lowered.

"Why am I here?" He blurted out, wondering how Severus would react to such a blunt inquiry.

"To heal, to recover from—," Severus began to answer, before being cut off by the sight of Harry's shaking head.

"No," Harry interrupted. "Why am I here now? Why did you come after me?"

Silence. Harry tried to sit up, and suddenly felt Severus' strong hands around him, helping him to move. Rubbing at his eyes, he bravely attempted opening them again, and was relieved to find the room not as bright this time.

"Severus?" Harry prompted, blinking hard at the man sitting beside him.

Severus looked back at him; dark eyes shining even in the dim light of the room. "Why did I come after you?"

Harry nodded. "I attacked you. I hurt you. Why do you still care?"

Why do you still care so much when no one else ever has? Was what he didn't say.

He watched as Severus pressed his lips together in that way that used to mean incoming danger to any students, but he found that he wasn't afraid.

"Harry," Severus finally said; his voice much lower than usual.

"I attacked you," Harry reiterated. "You shouldn't have bothered getting me back. I hurt you," he said, frowning.

It didn't make sense to him. Perhaps he really had suffered some kind of brain injury; perhaps this was just all an elaborate dream made up for him by the bizarre fates that seemed intent on screwing with his life. He didn't really know, and as he thought about it, he wasn't entirely sure he had ever really known.

Severus abruptly leaned in closer, putting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together on Harry's bed. "Let me ask you a question, Harry."

Wordlessly, Harry nodded.

"Did you mean to injure me?" Severus' eyes were staring intensely back at his, and Harry found that he couldn't quite look away.

"No, but—," Harry started.

This time Severus interrupted him. "Then why should I have not cared?"

"Because I hurt you!" Harry yelled, not quite sure why the man didn't seem to understand.

"But it was not done with malicious intent," Severus murmured, reaching out and taking one of Harry's hands in his own. "So why should it matter?"

Harry's throat closed over for a moment and he broke Severus' gaze by looking down at their conjoined hands. His heart was increasing its speed again, and he felt like breaking down like he had in the forest.

"Talk to me Harry, please. I want to understand," was all that Severus had to say. Severus never said please. No one had ever really wanted to understand him; no one.

Clearing his throat of the excess fluid that had suddenly accumulated there, Harry opened his mouth and tried to answer. "I . . . I didn't have to do anything," he whispered painfully around the tears that had started dripping down his face silently.

"For?" Severus asked, also speaking in a whisper.

"For the D-Dursleys to h-h-hate me," he murmured, dropping his wet face down onto the slightly uncomfortable lump that their joined hands formed. "I tried so hard to be g-good, and they always hated me."

He felt Severus lean in closer, and suddenly felt an extra weight against the back of his head. When Severus spoke, the air from his mouth tickled through Harry's hair, and he realised that his guardian was resting his cheek atop his head. It was a peculiarly intimate pose, and one that Harry had no desire to end. The Dursleys would have never dared to be so close to him; seemingly afraid that they would be poisoned with his unnaturalness if they should do something as radical as actually touch him.

"I hurt you. You should hate me. Why don't you?" Harry managed to say between sobbing gasps.

"Because I love you, Harry. You don't deserve to be hated," was Severus' all too calm answer.

Harry's sobs reached a near hysterical level, and he felt the weight from his guardian's head release him, moments before a strong arm reached out and pulled him in tightly against a warm chest. Their hands released and he pushed his arm out to hold desperately onto Severus' side.

Because I love you, he replayed the words in his head; mentally holding onto them the same as he continued to physically hold onto Severus.

He remembered a time not too long ago where he had been glad for Severus' hate for him. He remembered thinking that Severus' hate was preferable to Lupin and Dumbledore's so-called love.

This was different. He understood now. He finally understood that Severus was the only one who had managed to love him since the death of his parents. Lupin hadn't loved him, and Dumbledore hadn't either.

"You love me?" He whispered as his tears began to taper off. More than anything, he wanted to hear Severus say it again.

He could almost feel Severus' smile against the crown of his head.

"I do love you, Harry," Severus' voice was rough, and Harry thought that it was possible that his guardian might be crying as well.

He nodded and slowly let himself relax against the other man. Severus loved him. The impossible had happened, and for some reason, he was fine with it.

. . .

"Did you know that Sirius Black was an animagus?" Hadwyn asked, raising an eyebrow at Dumbledore after the older man had explained who it was.

"No, I did not," was Dumbledore's dumbfounded answer.

Hadwyn had to admit, now that he was seeing the infamous Sirius Black up close, he wasn't overly impressed. The man looked as though a stiff breeze would knock him down. As a dog, he had gained weight while in Hadwyn's care, but unfortunately, it did not appear that much of that had transferred to Sirius' human form. The man was positively skeletal.

"What will happen now?" Hadwyn asked, his face outwardly calm.

"I must contact the aurors," Dumbledore answered stiffly, despite not making any move to actually do so.

"Ah."

"Ah?" Dumbledore finally looked up at him; his blue eyes strangely dead in appearance as they stared back at him.

"As I understand his case," Hadwyn began slowly, transfiguring a rough blanket from a nearby lemon drop and wrapping it around the stunned man's still form. "Sirius Black was never given a trial, correct?"

"There were extenuating circumstances—," Dumbledore began tiredly.

"There usually are," Hadwyn very nearly growled out.

If no one else is going to act like an adult here, then I at least must try to, he thought.

"What are you saying?" Dumbledore asked, looking strangely old.

Perhaps it is just a glamour, Hadwyn thought idly. He was well aware of the other man's manipulative abilities.

Rolling his eyes, Hadwyn reached into an inner pocket and with a swish of his wand, he raised Sirius Black's blanket clad form up off the floor and perched him in a nearby seat. He cast incarcerous and waited for the ropes to finish springing from his wand before turning back to look at Dumbledore.

"Shouldn't we try to be better than our past selves?" Hadwyn asked with a thin grin, striding forward to pull Black's mouth open and deliver three droplets from the vial in his hand.

"Hadwyn, what do you think you're—?"

"Ennervate," Hadwyn said, cutting Dumbledore off again mid-sentence.

He watched as Black's eyes opened slowly, before suddenly widening dramatically as they darted back and forth between Dumbledore, Hadwyn and the door.

"Perhaps a few control questions," Hadwyn murmured, winking slyly at Dumbledore as he did. "Sirius Black, what is your animagus form?"

Black's eyebrows rose as his mouth opened its own volition and he answered dully, "A black dog."

"Hmm yes, and in school," Hadwyn thought for a moment and then grinned again, "Who was your most hated classmate?"

"Severus Snape," Black answered, his eyebrows back down where they belonged, though his eyes still darted back and forth.

"Did you, or did you not betray the Potters?"

"No."

Hadwyn looked at Dumbledore and pretended to be shocked.

"Who did?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

Dumbledore stood up with a swishy flash of his purple robes and strode over to stand in-between Hadwyn and Black. "Who was the Potter's Secret Keeper?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Was he also an animagus?" Hadwyn asked, walking forwards until he was slightly in front of Dumbledore.

"Yes."

"What was his form?" The question came from Dumbledore.

"A rat."

Hadwyn thought that Black's lip curled a bit on that answer, indicating that the man was regaining control of himself once more. It was probably best to finish this up soon.

"Why are you here?" Hadwyn quickly asked.

"To kill Peter," was Black's succinct response.

"Where is he?"

Point to Dumbledore, Hadwyn thought with dark humour.

"With the youngest Weasley boy—aghh, Dumbledore, you have to let me go!" Black's head suddenly slumped forward as the serum wore off within his system.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore called out instead. His phoenix suddenly appeared in the room before them, and with only one look from the headmaster, the creature flashed out again.

Moments later, Fawkes returned, carrying in its claws the thrashing form of a rat.

"That's him?" Dumbledore's question was tersely spoken.

Black merely nodded.

Seconds later, Peter Pettigrew appeared before them and once again, Dumbledore stupefied yet another man in his office.

"So, this is how you keep from getting bored, eh Dumbledore?" Hadwyn asked, taking a seat next to his pet and crossing his legs in amusement. "I don't know about everyone else, but I could do with some tea."

He ignored the looks of incredulity he received from Black and Dumbledore and instead called out, "Dobby!"

Dumbles is not the only man capable of manipulation, he thought wryly.

"Master Hadwyns, sir!" The house elf appeared delighted to see him as always. Of course, as a friend of Harry's, he was practically royalty to the nearly infatuated creature.

"Tea please, Dobby. Oh and you might be happy to know that Harry is fine. He's doing quite well, and if I remember correctly," Hadwyn made a show of pretending to think, "he recently made the acquaintance of a dryad."

He noticed but did not say anything about Black's obvious interest at his words, and instead sent Dobby on his way. He was certain that he had gone up another spot in the elf's book of great people, because the tea they received was more extravagant than normal.

"Sweet Merlin," Black said, nearly salivating beside him. "Is that roasted duck?"

"Hmm?" Hadwyn asked; looking in the direction of Black's twitching nostrils. "Oh yes, it looks as though it is, doesn't it. Would you like some?"

. . .

The days following Harry's adventure—as Severus had taken to calling it—were very different indeed. No longer content to just try and help Harry, Severus had now decided that he was the one to help the boy find himself again.

They began by taking walks through the wild forests around them. Severus tried to both give Harry his space and also to make it understood to the child that he was not alone. It wasn't enough to be his mentor; Severus was determined to show his charge that responsible adults did exist, and that Harry could find one in him.

He gave Harry a journal and encouraged him to write in it at every opportunity. It wasn't just trying to move on from what had happened that drove them forward, but trying to show Harry that there were things around them that didn't have to change just because everything else seemed to have done so.

"Even in the darkest of nights," Severus revealed one afternoon, "I still know that the moon will rise again. I know that the sun will shine and that the world will go on around me. Even in my worst moments, gravity still is at play. The ingredients to Wolfsbane must still be added in the same order, much like the Draught of Living Death. I know that I can trust in facts, Harry child."

The problem hadn't been that he hadn't believed in his relationship with Harry; the problem had been that he hadn't dared believe in himself, in his abilities to reach Harry. Now it was different. Now, Severus understood that he might very well be the only one who could reach Harry, and he had to do it, because the boy was too precious an individual to be lost to the fickle wills of fate.

The adventure in the forest had made it all too clear to Severus that he was not willing to stand by and let Harry just die. He had put far too much into this experience thus far—more than any other in his life, with one very notable exception. This was as much about Severus changing his own outlook on life as it was about changing Harry's.

And he could not fail.

He refused to.

For Harry.


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