Scissors by MellarkandArt

“It’s. a. dragon,” Harry hissed, pure panic shining in his eyes as they sat on the ground in front of the champion’s tent.

Severus had to bite back a frustrated growl. Yes, it was a dragon. They had gone over this several times. There were no words he could say to make the situation go away, and yelling curses wouldn’t make Albus any less of a fool or help Harry to feel any less terrified.

He had no words of comfort to offer, as he wasn’t one to lie. Not for someone on the good side of the battle against Voldemort, anyway, and Harry, he had discovered in recent weeks, was nothing if not good.

He had already known the boy to be a self-sacrificing fool, but he had been blind to just how pure his heart really was. He had been told by others, of course, numerous times, but he had not once listened. Things were better learned through experience, anyway.

Harry really was more like his mother than his father, but more than anything, he was his own person. His own, emotionally troubled person.

Severus had born witness to many things in his years, but he had never expected to witness Harry Potter attempting to commit suicide. But then, he actually hadn’t been trying to kill himself. He had only been trying to cut himself. Because that was so much better.

Severus didn’t get it, not really, but he was hardly in any position to judge others' coping mechanisms. It was a terrible thing to contemplate, and Severus would do anything in his power to prevent it from happening again, but it still somehow had to be better than joining the Death Eaters.

“It’s a dragon,” Severus agreed solemnly, the crowd’s screaming nearly drowning him out.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Harry muttered, turning towards the bushes. Nothing came up, but Severus rubbed his back all the same.

“You have a plan,” Severus stated after a while.

“Yeah, I have a plan… it’ll probably end with me being burned to death by a dragon, but, I have a plan.”

“You won’t be burned to death,” Severus said, wondering if it was considered a lie if you wanted so badly to believe it. The chances of his fourteen-year-old pupil escaping this little escapade without injury were admittedly not great.

The speakers announced success for Fleur Delacour as Harry fiddled with his tiny dragon model. Hungarian Horntail, the most treacherous of the lot, of course. Why would he have drawn anything less?

“Sounds like Krum’s turn,” Harry muttered.

Severus stood then, exhaling a heavy breath. “I suppose you’d best get back in the tent.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, gulping audibly.

“Harry,” Severus started, hesitating before placing both hands on the boy’s shoulders. “You… Be careful. It doesn’t matter how you perform, just that you do your best to stay safe.”

Harry stared at a point somewhere behind Severus, nodding slightly. They both started as the speakers announced Krum’s triumph.

“Go on,” Severus forced himself to say, gently pushing Harry towards the tent before making his way to the stands to watch the first task.

***

“And so I live to see another day,” Harry said dryly, though the relief in his features was evident.

He had survived, yes. More than that, he tied with Krum for the victory. Not that that bit mattered much to Severus, in comparison.

“It would seem so,” Severus responded. “I assume that you and Weasley have made up?”

Harry nodded, grinning like the little dunderhead he was. “Yeah, he finally got over it.”

“And you forgave him for abandoning you, just like that.”

“Mmm. Well, there’s no sense in holding a grudge, is there?”

“I suppose not,” Severus agreed, though they both knew that he had been holding a grudge against the boy’s dead father since before he had even been born. Severus pushed the Gryffindor’s sleeves back down once he had performed the nightly ritual of checking his arms for fresh cuts.

“You did well, Harry.”

***

“You truly have not heard of Gillyweed before?”

“No, I… God, I’ve gone through so many books trying to find a solution…”

“And it never occurred to you to simply ask me or another adult?” Severus asked, sighing. He was doing a lot of that these days.

“We’re not supposed to have help,” Harry muttered, taking the Gillyweed and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Yes, the rules of this tournament have been followed very closely,” Severus said, rolling his eyes. “To start with, there is an underage student being forced to participate. Completely ethical.”

Harry nibbled his lip. He did that quite often and Severus wasn’t sure if it fell under the self-harm spectrum or not. He truly had no idea what he was doing most of the time, just that he was trying his best. But was his best enough?

“Do you know what we’ll be retrieving from the lake?”

Severus shook his head. “Unfortunately not. They have been very tight-lipped about it. However, I do believe that a good night’s sleep is in order.”

“Yeah… erm, would it be okay if I stayed here tonight?”

“Won’t your friends wonder where you are?”

“Nah, Professor McGonagall took them somewhere for the night.”

“Very well, then.”

***

“I don’t recall you ever mentioning that you were unable to swim.”

Harry laughed, pure relief showing once more now that the second task was over and there was only one more to suffer through. “Didn’t much matter, I had to go through with it either way.”

“Hopefully the third task won’t be as ridiculous as this one,” Severus muttered. Drugging students and tying them down underwater… What were these people thinking, honestly?

***

“It’s a maze,” Harry said, mirth shining in his eyes. “After nearly being burned alive by a dragon and drowning in the Black Lake, the big finale is a fucking maze.”

“Language,” Severus reprimanded softly. A maze, indeed. It did seem a bit odd…

***

It was getting dark.

It was getting dark and Harry was just a little bit afraid of the dark. He always slept with a bit of light whenever possible. Not a nightlight, he had insisted, but a light nonetheless…

It was getting dark and Harry was without his nightlight.

Severus’ Dark Mark lit up like fire.

***

Cedric Diggory was dead and Harry seemed to be halfway there himself.

He had seemed to be… at the moment he was nowhere to be found. One moment Albus had been prying his fingers away from Cedric’s body and the next he had seemingly disappeared. As had Mad-Eye Moody.

“That is not Alastor Moody,” Albus said suddenly.

***

Harry stared at the blood dripping from the cut on his arm, ostensibly transfixed.

Barty Crouch Jr. lay on the floor, tightly bound by robes.

Severus was given orders, and he followed them resignedly.

***

Harry slept, seemingly at peace. Severus knew he was far from it.

He sat with him alone in the hospital wing. It was very late, or early, one might say. The whole world seemed to have changed in the last few hours and Severus was unsure if he himself would ever manage to sleep again. He especially couldn’t allow himself to drift off while his… Harry... was left alone in the hospital wing after suffering through such an ordeal.

Voldemort was back. The Minister of Magic refused to accept the truth. Severus had to resume his role as double agent. Cedric Diggory was dead. Harry had nearly followed him.

It was an odd feeling, to care for someone who had such a large target on his back. Severus had always known Voldemort would come back and go after Harry, but to be here now, actually experiencing it…

Harry could have died. And for the first time, Severus found himself wondering how he could possibly go on without him. The child he had sworn to protect but never care for had somehow managed to worm himself inside of Severus’ heart and he couldn’t go back now, even if he had wanted to.

Unanticipatedly, Severus became aware of emerald eyes blinking at him blurrily. He picked up the glasses that had been sitting on the nightstand and placed them on the face.

“How are you feeling?” Severus questioned softly.

“Bad,” Harry admitted, voice raspy. Severus was sure if it had been anyone else asking, he would have said he was fine. He wasn’t sure if that should make him feel smug or sad.

Severus held a glass of water up to the boy’s lips. “Drink,” he said. Once Harry had had his fill, Severus asked him what hurt.

“My mind. My heart. My arms. I, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“Shh,” Severus soothed softly, running a hand through the child’s messy raven hair. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Harry shook his head, blinking back tears. “I told him to take the cup with me. I… why couldn’t I just be selfish? I got him killed, he’s dead because of me. And he’s alive because of me.”

“No,” Severus said firmly, pulling the boy into his arms, holding his head against his chest. “It was not your fault.”

“I can’t make myself believe that,” Harry said, breaths coming short and fast.

“Then I’ll just have to work harder to make you believe it.”

Harry shook his head against his chest but was quiet for long moments.

“I’d give anything for my scissors right now,” he whispered after a while.

Severus tightened his hold. “I… I can’t give them to you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re doing fine,” Harry murmured. “You’re here.”

***

Harry seemed to drift through the final week of school, Severus observed. A walking corpse.

Severus knew he couldn’t allow him to return to his relatives, not now. From what little he had gotten out of Harry this year, he knew that they were obviously unfit guardians.

And so with that thought in mind, he made a visit up to the headmaster’s office.

***

Albus had argued, insisting that the blood protection the Dursleys offered was far more important than emotional support. The Burrow’s wards certainly weren’t strong enough to protect Harry Potter.

Severus somehow convinced him that Harry would be both safer and happier with Hogwarts level wards and a fully trained wizard to protect him. A former Death Eater’s home, perhaps?

Well, Severus certainly thought himself capable of protecting Harry from any outside threats as well as from himself. He still didn’t know what he was doing, but was definitely here.