Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Twenty-One: He Became 'Harry'

 

Severus rushed into the infirmary, his arms cradling Harry’s limp body. 

“Poppy!” shouted Severus, his chest heaving. Sweat beaded down his temples; he had raced through corridors and stairs to reach the hospital wing – and with every, Severus had become more and more aware of how light Harry was. 

Why did it terrify him so? 

“Severus, what is the matter?” asked Pomfrey, coming out of her office. She gasped. As Severus placed Harry on the nearest bed, she rushed to his side. “What happened?” 

“I have no idea,” said Severus, unable to keep the worry out of his tone. “He was coming down the corridor. He mentioned he didn’t feel well, and then he simply collapsed.” 

“Well, I’ll see what I do for him,” said Pomfrey, pursing her lips in worry. Severus stepped aside. It only took a moment before the woman let out a horrified gasp. “Severus! Someone has used a Black Quill on the boy!”

WHAT? 

Severus bolted forward. Pomfrey held up the boy’s right hand. A terrible knock formed inside Severus’ stomach as he saw the words carved into Harry’s hand: I must not tell lies. The words which had been cut into the flesh hadn’t healed, still bleeding slowly. 

He had been cradling his hand. Why hadn’t I noticed it? 

“Who dared to bring a Black Quill into this castle?” whispered Severus; if heard by any other student, he would have terrified them. He drew in a deep breath, before he roared out, “Let alone use it on a child! They’re illegal for a reason!” 

“How would I know?” cried Pomfrey, a touch of fear in her voice. “None of the students have come into the hospital wing with something like this. This is the first time I’ve seen anything like it.” 

Oh, the one who had brought this abomination within the castle walls would pay. Most knew about Black Quills and the potential effects on certain wizards. Their use had been at its peak in the late eighteen hundreds, mainly for official documents and binding agreements or contracts. While the Black Quill itself wasn’t considered dark magic, it had a side effect that made its further use illegal. 

The strange thing about the quill was its random property – for some who used it, they felt no added effects, beyond the carving of the magical contract into the their flesh. Generally, the cut would heal and no scars would be left. For others, however, the quill brought on a number of sicknesses – and that was from one use. 

Due to instability, it was banned mid nineteen hundreds. Severus had learned about it after Hogwarts, but he hadn’t seen one in person. The general consensus was that they’d been destroyed. 

But someone had one. That someone had brought it upon these safe grounds. Someone was poisoning innocent students. There was only one person in this castle who had the absolute imbecilic temerity to bring such a horrific artifact with them. She would go down

What if Harry had been subjected to the quill more than once? 

“What can you do to help him?” asked Severus. 

“Not much, not without knowing what exactly is wrong with him,” said Pomfrey. 

“Why can’t you do more?” demanded Severus. 

“I can’t do anything to heal him because of the nature of the quill,” said Pomfrey, her face folding with concern. “I need to run a diagnostic charm on him, but I can’t without the permission of his guardians. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to do so, but couldn’t because they never signed the forms.” 

Severus stared at the pale face of the boy. He looked so young lying there. This didn’t look like a simple cold. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, something had to have happened to him – whether it was the quill or otherwise. He truly hoped it wasn’t the quill’s fault for Harry’s sudden collapse. 

“You have my permission, Poppy. Run the charm,” said Severus, his voice low. It was a risk, but the boy’s health was more important. If word got out that Severus Snape had guardianship of Harry Potter on top of the strange charm on them, his spying days would be over and Harry would be bumped down to second place on Voldemort’s hit list. 

“Severus, I just said I need his guardian’s permission—” 

“As of two weeks ago, I became Harry’s guardian,” said Severus, hissing in annoyance. “I have just given you permission—now run the blasted charm!” 

Pomfrey hmphed before lifting her wand into the air. “I’ll need you to sign the form later, then,” she said, eyeing him. “And I’ll want an explanation.” With a few complicated waves of her wand, a scroll appeared in the air above Harry. The scroll was transparent. As the woman continued her wand movements, black printed writing began to appear one letter at a time. 

Severus couldn’t take his eyes off the words as they wrote one by one the horrors this boy had endured. They started in his infancy, continuing upward to through his childhood, finally to his current age. It listed everything. From colic to teething; from common colds to minor mishaps. However, when it reached fifteen months, the words ‘subjected to the Killing Curse’ blazed across the scroll. 

It was all downhill from there. 

Severus could only watch each line, the sorrow threatening to overwhelm every sense in his body. So many times had this child been hurt. So many times had someone harmed a innocent child, slowly chipping that innocence away until nothing was left. 

And to his absolute horror beyond anything he had ever felt in his life, he saw one more line: ‘subjected to the Cruciatus Curse twice.’ 

He had been fourteen years old. 

Once the scroll finished, the hospital wing was deathly silent. Severus couldn’t bear it. He sat down in a chair at the boy’s bedside, rested his elbows on his knees, and hid his face in his hands. He felt a light hand on his back, but only after a moment, Pomfrey moved into action. 

Eight times. 

The boy had been subjected to the belt eight times. Once during the summer after his first year, once after his second, once after his third, and five times after his fourth – all during the summer and no doubt by the hand of his uncle. 

In his early years, he had been ‘whacked’ more than a few times. Rough hands had cuffed the boy more than a few times. Thin hands had slapped him more than a few times. Gang hands had beaten up him more than a few times. So many episodes of violence in such a young life. 

He’d known, hadn’t he? Oh, how he’d known

But to this extent? No, he had no idea. He hadn’t even come close to knowing this terrible truth. The boy had scars, both hidden and visible, to prove it. In the end, everything made sense. Oh, the pain the boy must’ve been holding in his heart all these years… 

Severus had wasted so much time. He’d had so many chances to find out. Now, he wouldn’t make that same mistake. It was time to do more. 

James Potter had long died, the memory of his last sacrifice burned into the hearts of so many. 

But he was gone. 

Lily Evans had long died, the memory of her last sacrifice setting the standard for all future mothers. 

But she was gone. 

What remained was a boy, a son of those two people; one whose heart was strong and bright. Yes, he was his father’s son. Yes, he was his mother’s son. But as all children grow up and march the path of their own lives, Harry Potter was no different. 

Harry was smart. Harry loved potions. Harry liked treacle tart. Harry was reserved. Harry was quiet. Harry was gentle. Harry was an amazing seeker. Harry had a heart full of love. Harry, with ease, forgave those who wronged him. Harry was inexperienced with girls. And… Harry was not unpleasant company. 

It took living with the child to find all that out. How could anyone not appreciate him? How could anyone hurt him so much? There was no justification for it. Neither him, nor Umbridge, nor the Dursleys, nor anyone else – there was no excuse. 

Guilt for his sins against an innocent child couldn’t begin to describe his feelings. He had truly wronged the boy these past four years. He had carried an old grudge and wreaked havoc on the poor child. 

He’d always known he was a horrible person. But now he saw just how awful he truly was. It’s ugliness was pure in its clarity. The shame was overpowering. Self loathing. Self hate. Severus knew he deserved every unpleasant thing to happen to him. From losing his best friend, to every Cruciatus he ever endured – he deserved it all. No amount of suffering could atone for his great sin. 

It was all his fault. 

If it weren’t for his foolish actions, this boy wouldn’t have had to endure years at the hands of an abusive family. Severus had sentenced this boy to years of pain, abuse, and emotional terror. 

Nothing could bring back those tender years. Nothing could erase the scars. No amount of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Please forgive me’ could scratch the surface of repairing the wrong. 

Seeing it in such stark black letting, the truth brought it too close to home. 

He had wronged the boy – terribly

“Severus.” 

He took a deep breath. 

“Severus, I need your help.” 

He nodded. With another long breath, he composed himself. Then, Severus lifted his head and stood up. 

“Of course, Poppy,” said Severus, his voice strangely distant. “What can I do?” 

The next hour passed in a blur – with each blurry second crawling forward at agonizingly slow speed. The quill’s effects had torn down the boy’s immune system, bringing with it other problems as well. As the hour dragged on, Harry’s symptoms became worse. His skin was pale and sweaty. His breathing became hoarse, struggling with each breath. Pomfrey worked her best; though, it didn’t stop the Pneumonia from settling in. 

Harry’s hand was treated with Murtlap Essence and bandaged carefully. Because of the extended use of the Black Quill, magic had sunk into the flesh. While the magic itself wasn’t Dark Magic, because it had been inflicted in such a way, the magic was poison to the magical core. 

Thus, not only was the quill affecting the boy’s physical health, it was also affecting his magical health. Next time Severus saw the woman, she had better run; forget poison, he was going to strangle her with his bare hands. 

“If only I’d have found it sooner,” whispered Pomfrey, as she spelled another potion into the boy’s stomach. “I could’ve stopped the progress of the Pneumonia. But now… We’ll just have to wait.” 

With a sigh, she sat back on a bed next to the boy, staring at the pale form with worry in her eyes. She clasped her hand together, slowly beginning to wring them. 

Severus stood over the bed, staring at the pained countenance of Harry. He wished he could give the boy Dreamless Sleep with the rest of his medication. Already, the boy’s eyes were clenching shut as he battled some unknown terror in his dreams. He had so much to fight against; the sickness, the magic from the quill, and now his own terrors. 

“Severus,” whispered Pomfrey. “How many more do you think…” She sucked in her breath, glancing up at him with horror in her eyes. “She could’ve used a Black Quill on any of the students. How many do you think… Merlin, we have to do something!” 

“I will take care of it,” said Severus, nodding grimly. He looked at the boy for a moment longer, before he couldn’t hold back. He reached forward and brushed back the sweaty bangs against Harry’s forehead. The boy’s skin was hot to the touch. 

Severus’ jaw clenched. 

He pulled away from Harry’s bedside. There was nothing more he could do for him. Now, there was a more pressing matter to deal with – no doubt, Harry wasn’t the only student subjected to the blasted quill. If this got out to the public, it could bring Hogwarts and the Ministry to its knees. 

He marched to the fire place and tossed a handful of Floo powder inside. 

“Slytherin Common Room!” bellowed Severus, before sticking his head into the fire.

Chapter End Notes:
I do have a big announcement. :) I have just published my first original novel. It's called Beyond the Alluring Sky, underneath my penname, Anthezar. It's fantasy, 520 pages, 139,000 words, and only $0.99 for the ebook version. If you guys enjoy my writing, then I'd really appreciate it if you checked out. :) Thank you so much for reading my stories and leaving both nice and insightful comments.

I'll definitely be finishing this story, so you don't have to worry about that. I love Harry and Severus too much to leave them at this point. *smiles*

Anthy

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