|snarryhols (snarryhols) wrote in snarry_holidays,|
@ 2007-11-24 09:30:00
|Entry tags:||fic, post-dh: ewe, rated: nc-17|
Talks and Silence, for screaminglungs
Title: Talks and Silence (1/2)
Word Count: ~14,400
Pairing: Snape/Harry, reference to one-sided Snape/Lily and some Ron/Hermione
Warnings: Post DH, EWE, MPreg, Character Death (not Harry or Snape)
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Talking to someone, even when they don't talk back, might help a person to understand themselves and those around better.
Author's Notes: For screaminglungs who wanted angst with happy ending, Top!Snape, Bastard!Snape, Harry who pursues Snape and well done M-Preg. I loved the assignment and I hope I did justice to her request.
Happy Snarry Holidays, screaminglungs, and if the ending is a bit off, that's because a power cut-out wiped out my hard drive and I had to rewrite the last few scenes.
Also thanks to Mat and Rol who took the time to help me out with polishing this fic. Any remaining mistakes would be mine.
Talks and Silence
Part one – Harry: Desperation
Harry stared at the small house before him. He was still hesitant to go through the dark green wooden door that separated the neatly organised garden from the endless fields of fresh grass that seemed to stretch as far as the horizon. He lifted his hand to open the door and felt the wards that surrounded Snape's property as a cold mist.
Harry guessed he was lucky that Snape was the untrusting bastard that he had ever been or the house might have been under Fidelius, making it nigh on impossible for Harry to locate. It was bad enough that he had wasted five precious months looking for any clue as to Snape's whereabouts.
The thought reminded him once again that every second was important and he braved the door. A path of mossy stones led towards the front door of the house itself. A glance at both sides showed a lot of herbs, some of which reminded him unpleasantly of his potions classes. He almost slipped on a stone, one that was particularly well polished by time, and he only just managed to spare his butt an unfortunate encounter with the path.
"Mr. Potter, I see your grace has suffered in the blessed time that I was spared your company." Snape's icy voice forced Harry to separate his gaze from the stones and look up at his former professor. The man stood at his door and looked at Harry as if he were a vermin attacking his plants.
"Professor," he said as a matter of greeting, not sure what more to say.
"I am fortunate not to be your or anyone else's professor anymore, Potter. If you've lost the way, the door out is at 180 degrees turn and straight ahead."
Harry wouldn't let Snape intimidate him.
"I need your help, Snape." He did and no matter how many insults he might get to his face he wouldn't leave until he had secured Snape's assistance.
"And I am quite sure I am not interested in your needs Potter, so follow my instructions and see yourself out." He turned and stepped over the doorstep.
"I'll pay as much as you want." Harry cried desperately.
"And if I asked the price of your body and servitude Potter?" Snape asked, not even turning to see Harry's reaction to his question.
Harry gulped uneasily, but answered anyway. "Even then!"
"You must be really desperate, but I am not interested in you scrawny body. I shudder at the thought of the possible parasites you can pass on to me. It was exceptionally unpleasant talking to you, Mr. Potter. Farewell."
Harry clenched his jaws and played his trump card. He hated doing it, but in this case there was nothing he wasn't willing to do. "You turn me down one more time, Snape, and I promise you that the Prophet will receive an anonymous letter with your address and detailed instructions how to reach this lovely rural paradise of yours." Snape's back stiffened but the man still showed no indication of desire to help Harry. "I'd bet they'll trample all over your meticulously organised garden."
Snape turned and his eyes were as violent and filled with hatred as they had ever been when Harry had dared oppose him. "Are you attempting to blackmail me, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes!" Harry stared back stubbornly, not willing to be the first one to look away.
"Get inside. I'll hear your plea," Snape said it as if Harry was about to grovel before him, "and consider it."
Harry entered the house and followed Snape to a kitchen that looked as clean as if it was a Muggle sterile hospital room. And Merlin knew he had seen more than his fair share of those.
Snape gestured vaguely towards a chair while he went and poured a glass of tea. One only, which he placed before himself as he took the chair opposite the one Harry occupied.
"Well, Mr. Potter, I am all ears."
"I need your potions expertise." Harry stared at a point above his former teacher's shoulder.
"I gathered as much. I didn't expect you to come to me to study polite interaction." Snape's voice was calm and cold, but the mockery was evident. "Do be straightforward; I have a potion that would need my attention in," he pointedly looked at the clock that he procured from his pocket, "eleven minutes."
"My goddaughter is dying; I need you to try and cure her."
"What illness?" Snape's voice was all business. Harry was kind of relieved not to hear long diatribes of commiseration and well-wishing.
"It's Muggle, she's a Squib. Rhabdomyosarcoma. The Doctors give her a few months at best."
"And why me? I can recommend you a few excellent Potion Masters, who would love to help the Boy Who Lived Twice. Janelle Crandole, Fyodor Sokolovskiy, Shang Wei-Lyn, …"
"Syrenna Fortrane, Gullermo Cantana," Harry continued the list of the most prominent Potion Masters around the world. "The moment she was diagnosed she was treated first the Muggle way and I contacted every prominent Potion Master in our World. They've all failed so far. Do you think I'd come to you, unless I had no other option?" Harry didn't mention that the only reason he hadn't turned to Snape earlier was that he had had to locate the man first. "The best some of them managed to achieve was temporary remission or to suppress the pain. Unfortunately that was all, and often at the price of harming other organs. Muggle medicine, which is far more advanced in this area, as Wizarding folk are not afflicted by such illnesses, has also given up any hope. That's why I am here."
"You'll pay the market price of each ingredient, no matter whether I have it in my garden or not. If I don't have it, it would be up to you to procure it. Additionally you will pay for my work – 150 Galleons per day for as long as it takes."
Harry nodded, not even caring about the money. He had those, only so far they had not bought Rhianna's life.
"And you'll be available to me, if I need some assistance." Snape's voice had not wavered to show that he was at all touched by the girl's fate. "And I'll need all the information about her illness and the treatment she has undergone so far, both Muggle and Magical. I'll need specimens from her blood, hair, nails, saliva and urine."
"Should the hair be form the scalp or any hair would do?" Harry asked when Snape had finished his demands.
Snape looked at him as if he was an idiot. "From the scalp, Potter. It is the slowest to change and thus gives the most information. But I am not surprised you've forgotten that fact, if it has ever penetrated your thick scull."
"It's not about whether I know that or not, and trust me, I was forced to learn about potions more than I ever wanted, it is just that the Muggle treatment causes alopecia. She has no hair, since to spare her the discomfort we shave her. She has brows and eyelashes though."
No other reaction than "I'll need specimens from all possible body hair that you can obtain. That includes the armpits and the pubic zone, Potter." Snape added nastily, even if his voice was as impassive as before.
"She is seven, for Merlin's sake." Harry shouted.
"You hadn't mentioned it till now. How was I to know?"
Harry shook his head. He would tolerate all the ridicule that Snape threw at him if that meant Rhianna's smiles to be once again of happiness and not a brave attempt to soothe the adults around.
"You'll have a copy of her medical record as well as everything that the other Potion Masters have done so far, textbooks explaining her condition and all the required specimens by midday tomorrow."
"One last thing, Potter. I want a vow on your honour and decency that you shall never in any form or manner disclose the location of my home to any human being. And that once this is over, no matter the result, you shall never approach me again."
"I am surprised you don't demand an Unbreakable Vow."
"Don't be ridiculous, there's no other Wizard or Witch around to bind us to it. Besides you were a Gryffindor." The last phrase could have just as well been 'you were an idiot.'
"I give you my word that I shall not ever in word or action disclose the location of your home to any human being and that I won't demand anything more of you."
"Now leave, I have to attend to my potion, before it turns into something resembling your pathetic attempts back at school."