Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
Hey! I hope you're all enjoying the holidays. Happy reading.
No Matter What

What was that imbecilic child thinkingSeverus fumed internally as he led Harry down the walkway toward the house.

Of all the idiotic escapades…

When they reached the sitting room, Severus had to restrain himself from positively shoving the boy onto the couch seat.

Once they were both seated, Severus leaned toward the boy, prepared for an interrogation concerning what on Merlin’s good earth had possessed him to do such a thing. Harry’s pale face gave him pause. The child’s face was slick with sweat, eyes glazed and unfocused, and his hands were trembling lightly.

He is dehydrated, Severus realized with a jolt of guilt. He’s been running about all day in this heat, and the foolish child most likely did not think to have a drink.

He flicked his wand sharply, feeling another stab of guilt at the boy’s flinch, though, by Merlin, he should be nervous, and a glass of water appeared, hovering in the tension-thick air between them. He handed the glass to Harry, who stared at him in a dazed sort of shock.

“Drink,” Severus said gruffly. “We are in the midst of a heatwave.”

Of all days the boy would have chosen to do this, it would be on a day like this…

Severus watched the boy gulp down the water frantically, who then promptly leaned over to vomit on the floor.

Clearly, he is worse off than I thought.

Severus waved away the mess and walked over to the boy, who immediately cringed, muttering “Sorry, sorry…”

Severus took several deep breaths.

“You are suffering from dehydration. I am going to carry you upstairs so you can recover, and we will discuss this little escapade of yours in the morning.”

Clearly too exhausted to argue, Harry slumped over and allowed Severus to lift him from the couch. When Severus did so, a small, wooden box that he hadn’t notice the boy was carrying slipped from his grip onto the floor.

Harry tensed.

“The box,” he said hoarsely. “I need the box.”

The child was growing more and more frantic, struggling in Severus’ grip as though to escape it.

Severus merely tightened his hold on the boy and summoned it. With a surreptitious flick of his wand, he ascertained that the box contained nothing dangerous, so he handed it to the boy, who grabbed hold of it and clutched it against himself like a lifeline.

The child calmed, then, and his eyes fluttered open and closed intermittently as Severus continued to carry him upstairs. Severus felt some of the anger fade at the sight. The boy looked so small.

It’s best that we discuss this in the morning, in any case. I need to cool down.

Snape entered Harry’s bedroom and lowered him onto his bed, propping his head up on some pillows. He quickly summoned a hydration potion from his bedroom and handed it to the boy, warning him to sip slowly.

It was then that Harry’s owl, Hedwig, flew from where she had been perched silently atop the tall wardrobe to land lightly on his chest. The boy dropped the box onto the mattress beside him and wrapped his free arm around the owl, stroking her feathers.

After draining the bottle, Harry looked up at Severus through hazy eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered, letting go of the empty bottle and drawing his other arm around the owl as well.

Severus looked down at him, unsure of how to respond.

He does not understand the concept of a person truly caring for him regardless of his actions. According to his logic, in light of his misbehavior, he should not be provided with his most basic needs.

Severus opened his mouth to speak when he realized that the boy had drifted off, the owl still perched atop his chest. Shaking his head, Severus exited the room, his anger quite dissipated.

-

Harry picked at his food the following morning, his shoulders tight with anxiety. Snape had not yet said a word to him other than ‘eat’, and Harry knew good and well that he was in for it. He had never angered Snape to this extent; the worst thing he had done before this was either kick the table, or maybe hang upside down from the tree. His little trip the previous day qualified as misbehavior on an entirely different level, and, quite frankly, Harry was surprised that Snape hadn’t thrown him out by now. Or, perhaps not, considering the manner in which the man had taken care of him last night.

Why? Why did he do that when he was so angry? I guess he can’t punish me if I’m unconscious…

Harry let his fork slip from his fingers to land on his plate with a faint clinking sound. Abruptly, Snape rose, causing Harry to jerk slightly in surprise. Without speaking, he beckoned toward Harry to follow him, who did so immediately, loathe to anger the man more than he already had.

They reached the sitting room, and Snape pointed Harry towards the couch and seated himself opposite him.

Harry sat across from Snape for several moments, his eyes on his lap and his hands clasped together.

Why isn’t he talking?

Feeling simultaneously frustrated and uncomfortable, Harry peered up at Snape hesitantly, who was looking back at him with an infuriatingly blank expression.

Finally, Harry could no longer take it.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Snape was silent for another long moment.

“You’re sorry,” he said flatly.

“What else am I meant to say?”

Snape raised an eyebrow.

“If you can provide for me a semblance of a reasonable motive for you to traipse halfway across the country unsupervised, I would be more than delighted to hear it,” he said, his tone growing more caustic.

Harry looked down.

“Do not look away from me.”

Harry’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“I just- there was…”

“Yes?” Snape bit out, his voice trembling ever so slightly with the effort of keeping his temper.

“There were things I needed to do,” Harry finally said, knowing that his explanation would do nothing to curb Snape’s anger.

“There were things you needed to do.”

Harry remained silent.

“And what, pray tell, could possibly be so vital that you felt the need to break through the wards of this property meant to keep you safe? Did you not think to ask me to escort you if it was so important to you?” he paused for a breath. “Harry, have I not done enough to prove to you that I am sufficiently trustworthy to ask for assistance?” Snape sounded almost pained at that point.

Harry’s eyes darted, the beginnings of guilt creeping into his chest. He had known Snape would be angry, but hurt? Worried? He hadn’t really considered that.

Harry drew a shuddering breath, but when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. What could he say?

Snape looked moments away from exploding.

“Have you any idea of what might have happened? Did you think I envisioned finding you safe and intact in a bloody tree house?”

He never swears.

“For the love of Merlin, Harry, answer me!” Snape said, clutching the armrests of his chair so tightly his forearms trembled.

Harry would have thought he’d be more afraid, seeing Snape act this way. And he was frightened, but that emotion was overshadowed by the burning shame that was engulfing his insides. He really hadn’t considered how his actions would affect Snape, and after all the man had done for him…

I don’t deserve any of it.

“I’m sorry,” Harry finally said, his voice cracking. “I wasn’t – I didn’t think that-”

“You didn’t think that I would care,” Snape said quietly. The man’s face was no longer tight with anger, it was tired, now, edged with lines of frustration and anxiety.

Snape exhaled heavily, slumping slightly in his chair, while Harry sat taut, his back ramrod straight.

“Now,” Snape said, straightening up again, “your punishment.”

Harry held himself very still, knowing that he deserved whatever was coming to him.

“As, clearly, you cannot be left to your own devices for more than two moments, you will remain within my sight at all times until I indicate otherwise, aside from when you are in your bedroom or the restroom.”

Harry winced slightly at that, but he did not say a word.

Snape continued smoothly. “If I am in my laboratory, you will be as well. If it suits me to remain in my office for the better part of the afternoon, so will you. You will not set foot on the grounds without my accompaniment, and you will not use the library unless I am with you.”

He paused to look at Harry, who attempted to keep his expression blank, hard as it might be. He deserved much worse than this, he had no right to complain or feel upset.

“Furthermore,” Snape went on, “your extended time spend in my presence will not be wholly enjoyable.”

Harry bit his lip, waiting for Snape to elaborate. When he did not, Harry asked hesitantly, “meaning?”

“Meaning that you will not be brewing fascinating and challenging potions alongside me, you will be set menial tasks to complete there, as well as in my office.”

Harry nodded minutely.

“Have I made myself perfectly clear?” Snape said sternly, his eyes boring into Harry’s.

He nodded again.

“A verbal response, if you would.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

-

The remainder of the day was just as tedious as Harry had expected. He spent the bulk of the afternoon in the lab with Snape, sorting different sized beetle eyes into piles followed by the distinctly unpleasant task of squeezing out flobberworm innards, for which, thankfully, he had been provided with gloves. It was boring and repetitive, just as Snape had promised, but that was all. It didn’t really feel like a punishment. It wasn’t painful or particularly difficult; it seemed like nothing more than a chore.

He deserved much worse than this for upsetting Snape so badly.

Maybe he’s just making me wait for the real punishment…

No, that couldn’t be it. Snape wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t hurt Harry, he knew that, but the pressure of guilt weighing on him was almost worse.

That was why Harry couldn’t look Snape in the eye as they sat down for dinner, which, again, Snape was providing for him even though he didn’t deserve it.

“Perhaps you’d like to share with me the details of yesterday’s little excursion,” Snape said smoothly.

Harry looked up, chewing his lip. Snape waiting, one eyebrow raised.

“I- I needed to know how they died,” Harry said in a low voice, his shoulders tensing.

Snape exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted, which made Harry feel even guiltier.

“And you did not think to ask me to obtain that information for you?” Snape said.

Harry had no answer.

Snape said no more after that, turning back to his food to continue his meal in silence. Strangely, Harry felt even more anxious despite having escaped further questioning.

He’s so angry he won’t even talk to me. He hates me.

Harry felt a lump grow in his throat, and he gripped his fork tightly with the effort of keeping his face impassive.

Snape sent Harry up to his room after dinner, allowing him to take a few books along. He clutched at Hedwig desperately as he sat on his bed with his back against the headboard, eyes occasionally flicking towards the box on his bedside table. After staring at the same paragraph in a book of which he couldn’t even recall the title, he gave up and crawled under his covers.

***

“You thought I cared for you, Potter?” Snape spoke derisively. “I never wanted you, but Dumbledore insisted.”

Snape’s pale, angular face morphed into the lined, blue-eyed visage of Dumbledore, who drew more closely to Harry.

“Come with me, Harry,” he said in that deceptively kind voice. “I imagined that Severus would learn to tolerate you, but it seems I was mistaken.”

He gave Harry a disappointed frown, then faded away, replace by Vernon, whose face was twisted into a snarl.

“No one could ever love you, boy.”

He reached for Harry, who stumbled backwards, his hands covering his face

***

Harry awoke, gasping for breath but mercifully silent. He gripped his blanket with trembling fingers, his heart beating frantically.

Just a dream just a dream just a dream…

Harry scrubbed his watery eyes furiously, biting his lip so hard he could taste blood.

Just a dream just a dream just a dream… But Snape still hates me.

-

As Harry walked down to the kitchen a few sleepless hours later, he ran through his plan once more. He was well aware that it was an act of desperation, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Halfway through breakfast, during which, again, Snape barely spoke. Harry asked quietly to be excused to use the bathroom. Snape nodded his consent, and Harry slipped out of the room, but instead, snuck out the front door to sit under his tree.

This was probably one of the stupidest things he had ever done, which was why it would work. Snape would be furious enough to give Harry a real punishment, after which Harry would stop feeling so guilty and Snape wouldn’t be quite as angry.

Sure enough, Snape was stalking toward him not five minutes later, his face white with fury. Harry disregarded his every instinct that was screaming at him to run for his life and remained where he was. He held perfectly still as Snape leaned down to grip his arm tightly and yank him to his feet.

Here it comes.

But it didn’t. Snape just pulled him through the doorway and into the office, where he was deposited into a straight-backed chair next to the wall.

“Just… stay there,” Snape said tersely, pulling out some fresh parchment.

Harry sat there for what seemed like hours, watching Snape scribble on the parchment and swinging his legs idly. He was bored stiff, but, again, that was all.

What’s it going to take to make him angry enough to hit me and get it over with? Harry thought, frustrated. Maybe a repeated offense…?

Harry was fraught enough to do anything to assuage the guilt and tension between him and Snape.

I just want it to be normal again.

So when Snape left to use the restroom himself, plying Harry with strict instruction to remain where he was, Harry slipped out the front door again silently to sit under the same tree.

The wait for Snape to come find him felt longer than it had the last time. The back of his t-shirt scraped lightly against the bark of the tree as he shifted, folding his legs underneath him. He yanked out a few blades of grass and peeled them into strips, letting them fall back to the ground once bored with the activity.

He can’t have been in the bathroom this long…

He waited for a few moments longer, and he was seconds away from just giving up and going back inside when he heard the front door open.

Harry trembled as Snape walked toward him.

You asked for this, you wanted it, so stop being scared and take what’s coming to you.

But when the man reached him, he didn’t lean down or lift a hand to strike him. He just stood there for a moment, looking down at Harry.

“I know what you are doing, Harry,” he said quietly.

Harry gaped at him.

Snape knelt down slowly on one knee.

“I will never hit you,” he paused to tilt Harry’s face upward. “There is nothing you can do to change that.”

Harry tried to shift away, but Snape held his head in place.

How did he know?

“I want you to repeat to me what I just said to you,” Snape said quietly.

Harry gave him an odd look.

Snape sighed. “I am well aware that you do not view your restrictions as a proper punishment, but, I assure you, most children would. Striking or otherwise harming a child in any manner is reprehensible.”

Harry averted his eyes.

Snape sighed again, letting go of Harry’s chin. “Tell me, Harry, what do you believe the purpose of a punishment is?”

Is that a trick question?

“Harry?”

“To show who’s in control,” Harry said with an undertone of bitterness.

Snape’s face was unreadable. “And you believe the best way to accomplish that is…?”

Harry didn’t hesitate this time. “Hitting.”

“Look at me, Harry.”

Harry flicked his eyes toward him.

“That is where you are wrong,” Snape said.

Harry shook his head slightly.

I’m not wrong.

“I know that has been your experience in the past,” Snape said slowly. “But do you honestly believe that the behaviors of your previous guardians were rational?”

Harry swallowed. “I don’t-” he paused, recalling the feral gleam he’d often seen in Vernon’s eyes, and the overwhelming fury that he unleashed onto Harry, often for no visible reason at all. He compared that to Snape’s controlled anger, only sparked to life when Harry risked his safety, and the acts of kindness present even at his most irate. He could see the warmth in Snape’s eyes even at this very moment.

“No,” Harry said in a low voice.

Snape looked faintly relieved. “Now that we have established that your late guardian’s views on punishment were entirely faulty, I will attempt to explain what the purpose of your current punishment is.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably.

“The purpose is to deter future similar behaviors, not to establish control. It is an attempt to prevent repeat occurrences of dangerous and irresponsible behaviors as was recently witnessed.”

Harry gave him a skeptical look. “But wouldn’t hitting be a better deterrence?” he said stiffly.

Snape’s lips tightened. “Absolutely not. Perhaps it would in the short-term, but ultimately, it only trains a child to fear adults, thus, halting the development of trust between them.”

That would be true…

Snape leaned closer to Harry, still on one knee.

“What is most important at this time is for you to trust me. I am quite certain this entire debacle would not have occurred had you done so.”

Harry was silent.

“And,” Snape continued. “Had I taken to harming you in any way, gaining your trust would be a very unlikely occurrence.”

Snape shifted so he was now resting on both knees.

“Perhaps, one day, you will learn that I care only for you and your well-being, and that I will do everything in my power to maintain it.”

“But… you’re still angry,” Harry whispered, pressing his back into the tree trunk. “You ha- you don’t want-”

“Stop.”

Harry stared.

“Stand up,” Snape said abruptly, rising to his feet.

Harry immediately stood, his breaths quickening.

“Come here,” Snape said, beckoning.

Harry walked toward him slowly, confused and half-terrified that he had managed to push Snape to the edge.

But no. Snape gripped Harry’s shoulder and pulled him against his chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

Harry froze in shock.

Snape had hugged him before, sort of, but it had never been like this, a full-on, tight hug when Harry had been doing everything he could to anger the man. He gradually relaxed into the embrace, latching his fists onto Snape’s robes and breathing in that familiar, herbal scent. He could feel Snape’s heart beating steadily against his ear.

“Do you understand now, Harry?” Snape said quietly. “There is nothing you can do that will prevent me from caring for you.”

Harry drew in a sharp breath, his head still pressed into Snape’s chest.

“I will never hurt you, Harry,” he said firmly. He took Harry by the shoulders and pushed him back slightly so he was looking into his eyes.

“I want you to say it.”

Harry felt his lips tremble slightly. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Go on.”

“You- you won’t hurt me,” Harry said shakily, biting down on the inside of his cheek. Snape was looking at him with such overwhelming compassion that Harry felt an intense urge to avert his eyes. But somehow, he couldn’t look away.

“Say it again.”

Harry took a breath. “You won’t hurt me.”

Snape’s grip on his shoulders tightened.

“That’s right.” Snape drew Harry back into his arms.

Harry released a shuddering breath, feeling as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Yes, he was in trouble. Yes, Snape wasn’t his father and never would be. And maybe he was only caring for Harry out of obligation, but in the end, Harry was being cared for by a person who was good to him, who didn’t hurt him, and who was kind to him no matter how angry he was.

Perhaps this was what Harry had been missing all this time.

Chapter End Notes:
Next chapter (I've been neglecting these little previews): A bit of flying, a spot of brewing, and Dumbledore put in his place (and something else rather exciting that I'm not going to mention).

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