harry & snape
WHO: Severus Snape & Harry Potter
WHAT: Concern, Confusion, Fighting
WHEN: Sunday, Sept. 13th
WHERE: Snape's office
RATING: PG
STATUS: DONE

nice</u>.

Harry might have been surprised by the lack of a new color, but Severus had taken to multiplying the wards several times a day. Darn that Tonks. Why were they all trying to drive him mad? Hadn't the Dark Lord done enough of that? Oy.

Hearing the knock, he called out, "Enter."

Harry swallowed and reached for the door knob. He took a deep breath before he pushed open the door. He paused just before entering. "Professor," he said quietly, his hands clenched in his pockets. He regarded the man with some anxiety. He fought not to look down at his feet, as he so very much wanted to.

There he was, familiar Severus Snape. And yet, Harry wasn't sure he knew the man as well as he thought he did. The Snape he knew did not call students into his office because of lack of sleep.

Perhaps the Snape Harry thought he knew wouldn't, but, in truth, it was nothing new. Before, it was simply those in Slytherin. Snape had cared for the others from afar, tossing 'helpful' advice to their Heads and barking out orders and detentions. However, now that the war was over, it seemed daft to keep spending all that energy when he could just cut out the middle man and make students come to him. Besides, when it wasn't under the guise of detention, he hoped they'd be more pleasant to deal with.

He regarded the boy for a moment. Sure, he saw him in class, but he tried not to dwell on him too much. Other than reprimanding him when he messed up, Snape steered clear. It was an awkward situation all around, even for him. "Mr. Potter. Take a seat."

Harry sat quietly down in the chair in front of Snape's desk. He was uneasy as the man took him in. He couldn't think of what to say, really, except, "Sir? Why did you call me into your office?" He regarded the man steadily, though there was a deep exhaustion in behind his eyes. He took in the lines in Snape's face, noticing for the first time that Snape looked like he hadn't had enough sleep, either.

Snape hadn't been sleeping well, no, but he was also getting older. Older beyond his years really. Two wars and plenty of murdered family and friends later, who wouldn't be? He reached down to his bottom drawer, withdrawing a small clear vial. "This." He thrust it toward the boy. "A drop before bed every night this week. We'll see where we are then." His dark eyes bore into Harry's bright ones.

The hair was all James, but those eyes…it was almost too painful to keep the gaze, but Severus succeeded.

Harry blinked for a moment, then stared at the vial. "Sir?" He frowned and took the thing from Snape's hands, looking at it. He took a deep breath. "Professor Snape, I have a question." He looked up at the professor. He truly needed to know what Snape had done, all those years ago. How the man slept at night. How he could possibly go on living.

Harry wasn't sure why Snape had that peculiar look in his eyes when he stared at Harry. He knew that Snape had been friends with his mother. Could it be that he was seeing something of her? Harry's heart swelled a little when he thought of being like his mother. Everyone had always said to him he was his father all over again. He loved the idea of his father, but he knew that his mother had been kind.

Well, that statement never bode well in Severus' experience. He clasped his hands in front of him, waiting for Harry to spit it out. When he seemed to be waiting on something, he replied, "Well, what is it, Harry?" He was using his first name more and more when they were alone and it wasn't particularly unpleasant. At least leaving out his surname let Snape forget James.

Harry blinked when Snape actually used his first name. He had written it in the journals, but to actually hear it was very odd. "How do you do it, sir?" he asked quietly. "How do you make it through two wars and sleep at night without nightmares?" For all he knew, Snape did have nightmares. But the man wasn't falling apart. Harry was falling apart.

Severus' head snapped back at the query. What the hell in Salazar's name? What business of…what…how…

Breathe. "I suspect you believe killing was easy for me?"

Harry sighed, and he looked away. "Never mind, sir. I'm sorry I asked. Can I go, now?" He had a sudden urgent desire to get out of there and just run. Running solved nothing, he knew, but Professor Snape was the easiest person to run from.

Damn, what was that feeling in his chest? Guilt perhaps? "It wasn't, you know. Not the first time and certainly not the last." He thought back to that awful night. Dumbledore's pleading, Draco's trembling, Fenrir's thirst…He closed his eyes briefly as years of memories flooded before them. "You've nightmares then?"

"Yes, I have nightmares. Of course I have nightmares." Harry's breathing was starting to become a little fast. "Sometimes, I'm in the basement of Malfoy Manor, and Hermione's screaming because Bellatrix is about to kill her. Or Remus and Tonks are in the middle of the Great Hall with all the other bodies. Or the entire Burrow goes up in flames." He stopped. "I know it wasn't easy for you to kill, sir."

Severus had suspected that the boy was having dreams, but it was important to hear it from the horse's mouth so to speak. Still, his face betrayed no emotion at Harry's recollection of the terrible events that plagued his sleep. Naturally, he felt awful hearing such, but what surprise was it? Snape would bet Draco had the same and probably Ron and Hermione too. And the Order members…

Still, no denying Potter's involvement had come too suddenly, too young, and too fast. It wasn't fair to the child no matter what Dumbledore had believed. Yet, there was no time to dwell on that then. Worrying about what could have been was a waste of time. The former Death Eater had learned that the hard way. He brought his gaze back to Harry. Lily's boy. She might have written Snape off, but he couldn't turn his back on her legacy. "The potion will help," he promised. The words came out low, almost soothing in the way the spell Snape uttered for Draco was the night Harry used that violent curse against him. The boys, different as night and day, both held a grasp on Severus Snape's heart and he nearly wanted to beat both senseless for it. "It is over now, child."

"It's not over," Harry said bitterly, leaning back somewhat in the chair. "It's never over. Not for me." He closed his eyes briefly. "My whole life I'll be Harry Potter, people will write articles about me, people will want to photograph my children, all for something I just want to forget. Honestly some days I wish I could just Obliviate myself." He tucked his lower lip in between his teeth. "I just want to be normal. You never understood that, sir."

How little he knew. Snape rose from his chair, going to look out the window. He could see some students playing on brooms while others lounged in the grass reading. He had never been that carefree. Even with these children having witnessed war, only a handful was truly affected. "No? You snuck into my memories, young man. Tell me what I fail to understand again?" He turned back to Potter, his dark hair hanging in his face. He liked to hide behind it. He wasn't attractive; he had never stood a chance with any girl let alone Lily Evans. He was ashamed of that. His brain? Something to admire. However, he had never been good enough for anyone. Not his father. Not Lily. Not James and his oh so cool crowd. Hell, not even for House unless he was being their lapdog. Oh, he understood the need to be normal alright. He had spent years acting as a puppet, hiding himself, and waiting to die. Now, he was forced to live and didn't know how. It was too much to tell Harry. "You did things others cannot understand, but this doesn't mean it will never settle. Hiding away and waiting to forget will never do, Mr. Potter." Salazar, if anyone understood that lesson, Severus did.

Harry scowled. "You never understood that I wasn't Mr. Celebrity. You spent year after year humiliating me in front of my classmates because of my father. Well, I'm not my father, Professor. I'm not my mother, either. I didn't know either of them."

"I've done things people will never understand. I've died. I've died for them. I've died for them and they still call my friends mudbloods." He clenched his fists. "They will never understand, and neither will you. I don't know why I even came here."

Severus went stiff. He knew all too well Harry wasn't Lily. He was coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't James either. "If all you care to do is insult me for preparing you for harsh reality, I don't know why either." His nostrils flared and his tone had dropped to a cold and callous whisper. Spoiled brat. Severus tried to help and he was slapped in the face. Over and over. Well, fine, he didn't need the damn 'Boy Who Lived' either. "I'm sorry, was I supposed to let you break rules at every whim and get yourself harmed before you even turned twelve? Was I to think Harry bloody Potter so inconvincible that no pain could befall him? Oh, yes, Potter, you have all the answers, don't you? You know everything! And damn mean old Professor Snape for not coddling you, correct?"

He stuck a long, bony, and pale white finger toward the boy. "You'd do well to think about things other than your own pain. You'll be miserable." He barely bit back the 'like me' he wanted to add.

"Well, at least I won't make others miserable," Harry snapped, and went toward the door.

"Oh, so Miss Weasley is fine then? Miss Granger?" Severus couldn't help it. He grabbed the boy's shoulder from behind. "Potter! You don't walk away from me! I'm only trying to help you, you incorrigible child." If Severus believed in hitting, he'd have probably smacked Harry he was so incensed. "Take the potion. If I have to shove it down your throat, you won't be pleased."

Harry coloured. "Ginny and Hermione are fine. Better off without me." He went to open the door and stared up at Professor Snape. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

That gave Snape pause. The brat apologizing? Well, times were changing, weren't they? Slowly, he let his grip go. Lightly and briefly, he touched Harry's cheek with one cold palm. "Take the potion," he repeated. It wouldn't be the last time they chatted; that much Snape could count on. However, he had never believed in pushing students to talk and he wasn't about to start now.

Harry took his opportunity to open the door and flee without another word. He was breathing hard and he knew his face was somewhat red. He had just argued with Snape, apologized to Snape, and - why was he spending so much time with Snape?

Professor Snape.