Talks and Silence, for screaminglungs Title: Talks and Silence (1/2) Author:alexis_sd Giftee:screaminglungs Word Count: ~14,400 Rating: NC-17 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."
*****
On the next day in the late morning Harry was back at Snape's home with all the information and specimens Snape had demanded.
"I guess you've finally learned to be punctual Potter. I am shocked to my very core."
Harry had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let Snape anger him and use his reaction as a way to find his way out of their agreement.
"Here's everything that you asked for." Harry placed a large sack on the kitchen table. He started to take out books, unshrinking them before he passed them to Snape.
"I hope you haven’t shrunk the specimens, Potter, for the magic would have polluted them," Snape drawled.
"I have not. I didn't even dare use magic to ensure they wouldn't break. I secured them with cotton."
Finally Harry extracted a large wooden box from his sack and presented it to Snape for inspection.
*****
The next two days Snape mostly read and Harry only visited him in the afternoons to inquire if he was needed.
Then Snape started to brew the potions his colleagues had developed and to modify them. Harry was forced to go in search for a few ingredients. Snape even went as far as to provide specific information who offered those of highest quality which prompted an unplanned visit to Romania for an herb that Harry hadn't even heard of before.
His other time Harry spend as he saw fit.
*****
To his own surprise Harry found that Snape's presence soothed him, helped him relax. He even managed to fall asleep there and have a normal rest for the first time since the doctors had grudgingly admitted they could do nothing more for Rhianna than give her drugs for the pains, something that magic could provide with fewer side effects.
It was weird to find calm and comfort with Snape, but after some thought Harry decided it was because Snape didn't care beyond the challenge that preparing the potion presented. He didn't offer insincere condolences and didn't think that Harry should present a brave front. He actually hardly cared about Harry at all. He only spoke to him to say that 'Potter' had to be available at any given time and that he was not to interfere with Snape's routine.
Harry hired an unused cottage from one of the people from the nearby village. It had been rather shabby, but magic dealt with that quickly.
Each morning he went to London and spent a few hours with Ron and Hermione, who never left their daughter alone. Rhianna mostly stayed at home. It was pointless to keep her in a hospital if medicine couldn't help her. It also made it easier to give her the potions that all the Potion Masters came up with. The others – aside from Snape – worked together, but Harry didn't even dare suggest Snape revealed his survival. He just brought him everything the others came up with.
And when Snape developed some potion, he deemed promising, Harry would give it to Ron and Hermione. Then he would collect new samples for Snape to evaluate the results.
The afternoons he spent at Snape's home. Since Snape had taken his job seriously, he rarely left his lab and Harry somehow found himself taking over the house work. He cleaned and cooked. When weeds had started to overtake Snape's garden, he carefully took care of that as well.
Harry liked the monotonous labour, a lot of which he did the Muggle way, since it gave him something to do. Snape never commented on that.
*****
"Can I help?" Harry had waited a few minutes for Snape to notice him, but if he had, he gave no indication of it. Actually Harry would bet Snape had registered his presence the very second he had entered through the arch. He hadn't given a sign though. So he had asked when he saw that Snape had temporarily finished with what he was doing.
"Potter, if you wanted to kill your Goddaughter, I don't see why you had to go to such lengths to find me. I am sure you'd do marvellous job, all by yourself." Snape's voice was surprisingly expressionless instead of ridiculing.
"Can I sit here at least?" Harry wasn't sure why he asked. He didn't have any house work to do, and staying idle tended to let his mind drift in untoward directions.
"Don't speak, don't move around," was all Snape said before he went back to his work.
*****
Harry found staying in the back of Snape's laboratory calming in a weird sort of way. He had never liked Potions and Snape as a combination. He had only started to enjoy the subject after Snape had stopped teaching him. Yet in a twisted sort of way, Snape's incarnation as the Half-Blood Prince had attributed for his late interest in Potions. Now years later, he followed Snape's efficient and elegant movements as he worked over the potion that might help Rhianna.
It was nice sitting in the silence that was only broken by the sound of knife slicing roots, or the gentle cackle of the fire. He was tired of people talking to him. He was tired of hearing human voices. And he was even more tired of hushed voices. It had been like that in the hospital. And later at Ron and Hermione's home. They just couldn’t relax enough to speak normally.
Snape never spoke unless necessary. Harry was surprised how nice it was. He could just watch Snape and not think.
*****
After was always like that – Harry sitting silently and Snape working.
"How did you survive?" Harry had wondered about it for a long time.
"Potter, I only asked for silence. If you are incapable of it, I'll force your mouth shut." The words were hissed with malice.
*****
But Harry couldn't help asking. It kept his mind off Rhianna. Most often his answer was a well aimed Silencing spell, but lately Snape didn't bother with it.
"Are you a Vampire, as they used to say in the dorms?"
"Did you have a Horcrux?" The latter finally procured a reaction.
"Watch your mouth Potter." Snape almost hissed the words.
"Come on, if you tell me, I promise to answer one question, no matter its nature." Harry knew he gave Snape a weapon, but he really wanted to know.
"Will you keep silent after I answer you?" Snape asked at last.
Harry raised his hand and vowed. "I promise!"
*****
Harry had to wait for three days before Snape decided to tell him. He had stopped asking, since he knew Snape wouldn't talk before he decided he was ready.
"You'll tell me how you found me."
"OK. It's fair, I suppose." Harry knew Snape wouldn't ever guess how he had found him.
"Dumbledore made me promise to live. He also made me prepare antivenin to Nagini's poison, since he knew of Voldemort's sick fascination with his pet and how he loved feeding it with human beings." Snape's voice was flat and emotionless as if it was not his almost-death that was the topic of the conversation.
Harry had an unpleasant flashback of the summer before his fourth year when he had seen in his dream how Voldemort had ordered his snake to kill a Muggle.
"Nagini's venom was not that fast working, I believe it was especially pleasurable for Voldemort. I always had the antivenin with me. When Voldemort left – and before you managed to come into the room – I took the potion. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, it causes comatose condition, which you mistook for death. And the blood loss was easily countered with a Blood Replenishing potion."
Snape relayed his story with few words as usual.
"I went to the shack after I mended my wand. I wanted to give you a proper burial." Back then Harry had felt that he owed that much at least to the man who had devoted his life to him in memory of his mother. "Only you weren't there. I saw the track of blood that showed you've been moved. I thought someone had helped you. I didn't think anyone would've bothered with your body had you been dead. Everyone was only concerned with themselves at the time. I also thought you were resourceful enough to have probably devised a way to survive. Either way, you were not dead. So I set the shack on fire, and later said that it had been your desire to go without a fuss."
*****
Harry came back at Snape's house after his daily visit with Rhianna. She was worsening and he felt more and more powerless. Snape tried to do his best – Harry knew he gave his all – but still nothing seemed to work.
Lately they mostly kept Rhianna sedated, because the pain was getting too strong and only the Draught of Living Death gave her respite from the suffering. When awake, she had to be kept on high doses of morphine, but even the drug wasn't strong enough these days.
He went straight to the lab. The place was starting to signify sanctuary to him. The smell, the silent support that Snape's presence provided, the hope that Snape's work represented… all of that helped him go on. This gave him the strength to smile when he was with Rhianna, Ron and Hermione, when he had to be strong for someone else.
Snape spared him a brief glance and returned to his potions.
Just watching Snape's movements calmed Harry. He curled in his chair – it was strange having his chair in Snape's lab – and just stared at the straight back and the way Snape's long black robes swiped and billowed even when the man barely moved.
Hs must have fallen asleep for when he next had a coherent thought he was cramped, cold, and his back hurt. Snape was nowhere to be seen. It was so like him to leave Harry suffering on his own.
*****
"So, Potter, how did you find me?" Snape's voice was expressionless, as it usually was when he talked to Harry.
"I knew I didn't have a chance to find you. I might be an Auror, but I usually get information provided by the Reconnaissance Squad. So, I had to hire a professional." Harry paused to see if Snape would say something. He didn't. Actually, Snape rarely did as expected.
Harry sighed and went on.
"I hired a Muggle detective. I knew you were a Half-blood, so there was a high probability you had Muggle ID. I gave him a picture of you and three names – Severus, Tobias and Snape, hoping that you used at least one of them." Harry shook his head. "I should've known that as a spy you'd never be that easy to find.
"I had almost given up, when the PI came to me with a print from a livejournal – that is something like a personal diary, only a rather public one." He paused, remembering the long whines of a city girl who had been forced by her parents to spend a long boring week in her granddad's village.
"Your place seems to be the local Shrieking Shack. And you are the local Boogieman. The girl wrote in her LJ about you; the 'weird, grumpy, greasy old man that only wore black', who she had seen coming to the grocery store her granddad held. You seem to have been the high point of her visit. The description was too close to what I remember from my school years, so I decided to come and see for myself."
Harry didn't think Snape would like hearing that the girl had woven an entire romantic story of him 'probably having lost his wife and son, causing him to become depressed and withdrawn'. Harry himself had found it almost hilarious.
"I had little to lose, so I followed that dubious trace. The moment I sensed the wards and saw the garden, I knew I had found you."
Harry waited for Snape's reaction, but the man didn't seem to be willing to indulge him. Harry sat in his chair and watched Snape's long fingers. He wondered when he had started to notice Snape's fingers and how elegant and precise their movements were.
Hours later, while Snape was cleaning his working table, he said to Harry. "I expect you to do what is necessary to remove any traces that led you here. This includes Obliviating the girl in question, and the PI."
*****
Harry stared at his Goddaughter. Her condition was terrible. So far Snape, while not managing to cure her, had at least managed to suppress the effects of the disease, but lately his potions seemed to be losing their potency.
Rhianna was in pain and in the end even Snape had been bettered by a Muggle disease.
Sometimes Harry had the terrible thought that it might be more humane to end her suffering. Then he felt worse for having even considered it.
The strained smile on her haggard face made him want to shout at any god that might hear that it was unfair. That she had not even had the chance to live. Harry sat by her bed, read her a story, and then went back to Snape with heavy heart and little hope.
*****
"It's your fault!" Harry attacked Snape and hit him in the chest. "It's entirely your fault!" He hit again and again, until Snape grabbed his wrists and held them.
Harry pulled desperately. "You were supposed to be the best!" He shouted and tried to escape Snape's grasp. "You were supposed to cure her!"
He pulled again. Snape held tightly.
"She is dead!" Harry used his body and pushed against Snape. "She only just turned eight." His voice trembled. "She just turned eight." Harry whispered and then his knees suddenly gave in and he cracked. Tears filled Harry's eyes. He hadn't let himself cry. He had been strong for Hermione and Ron. He had stood by the small white coffin and had controlled his emotions.
He couldn't contain the pain any longer. Snape released his hands. Instead of lashing at him or running, Harry, suddenly needing basic human contact, buried his face in the black robes, voluminous even in the August heat, and started to cry. His hands encircled Snape's waist and he clang to him, seeking comfort.
All the hurt, the sorrow and the impotence he felt came to the surface. Harry didn't know how long he had cried, hiding his face in Snape's chest, but when he came to, he felt Snape's hands awkwardly supporting him and rubbing his back, offering comfort.
And Harry wanted to stay there. Snape was warm and alive and Harry just embraced him tighter pressing his body into Snape's, wishing to absorb the warmth and the life that he felt emanating from the man.
Snape pulled back a little but Harry clang to him, clenching at the back of his robes and Snape lost his balance, which caused them both to fall to the floor. Harry didn't care, as long as he felt Snape.
Then he heard a resigned sigh and felt the squeezing feeling of Apparition which landed him and Snape into a large bed. Harry didn't even lift his face from Snape's chest, just tightened his embrace and lay there. He was content to simply listen to Snape's heartbeat whose rhythmic beats assured him that there was life going on, even if it was not Rhianna's.
*****
At some point the hypnotising rhythm must have lured him into a doze for Harry woke up still desperately hugging Snape, who seemed to feel awkward and uncomfortable, yet sporadically rubbed his back in comfort.
Harry felt warm there in Snape's embrace. He registered the smell that came off the man. It was a mix of herbs, sweat, fumes and smoke. It shouldn't be pleasant and it normally wouldn't be, but at that moment for Harry that was the smell of comfort.
Snape must have realised that Harry was awake, because he stiffened and his hand stilled. Then he started to push Harry away but Harry didn't want to let go. Letting go would return him to the real world, where he would need to face that he wouldn't be going to visit Rhianna on the following day. So he tightened his grip around Snape and moved to sit even further on Snape's lap, to press himself completely to the man.
Snape tried to evade him and the weird movement resulted in Harry's thigh brushing against something his still hazy mind couldn't initially identify, but he still searched for Snape's warmth. Then, when he was almost over that 'something' he vaguely realised it was Snape's cock, which while not fully erect was still tumescent.
Suddenly Harry felt it as a scorching presence and without conscious thought he started to move his body rubbing at it. He dismissed the stiffness that overtook Snape's body. All that he could think of was that it was hot and alive and for some reason that he didn't want to explore, it made him feel alive too.
His hands also dived for the hotness. Only he encountered that he had to fight a row of tiny buttons that he couldn't bother to deal with. He grabbed the fabric and pulled, ripping the buttons and when he was almost reaching his price, Snape's hands clenched his wrists in iron clasps. Like an animal, operating purely on instincts, Harry emitted a noise deep in his throat and tried to overcome the restriction.
"Stop!" Snape's voice was commanding and it forced Harry to look up towards the man's face. Snape's features were schooled and nothing could be discerned from them.
Harry's whole body wanted to melt into Snape's warmth.
"Please." Harry begged, not even sure he could actually explain his need. He felt something on his face, maybe tears, but it didn't matter. Nothing aside from that warmth did. "Please."
And he tilted his head trying to kiss Snape. The man moved his face and Harry ended up placing a wet kiss on a firm jaw. It didn't matter. Even here Harry could feel the drawing warmth. He sloppily made his way to Snape's mouth that remained closed and unresponsive. His whole body was rigid.
"Please," Harry begged again. It didn't humiliate Harry to plead. His need was too primal to allow for such feeling. "I need… Please."
Then Snape finally kissed him. It tasted of alcohol and herbs. Harry responded with much more fervour than skill.
Snape took the initiative. His hands released Harry's and one pulled Harry's hair exposing his neck. Snape started to bite and suck at it with intensity that finally made Harry feel wonderfully hot and alive.
Harry's hands returned to their quest and searched for Snape's cock. When they reached it, it was smooth and hot and pulsing in his grip.
Snape's hands brushed him aside and next Harry was on his back, his robes being pushed up his legs, baring his thighs and over his torso and head, and then the only thing between Snape's hot hands and Harry's needy skin was a pair of boxers.
Harry reached to push them down but Snape was faster and then Harry finally felt alive. Alive as never before. Snape's hands kneaded his flesh, pinched his nipples, pulled at his cock and rolled his testicles and Harry still needed more. His hands lifted to awkwardly pull at Snape's offending robes that prevented him from feeling that body.
Buttons flew in all directions when his actions proved too aggressive for the material. Only there were more clothes under the robes. Harry groaned and his hands fought with the garments. Snape finally helped him and then it was perfect. All that scorching hotness over him was warming him to the bones.
And Harry couldn't stop feeling Snape's body. He teased nipples, pulled at greasy hair to greedily kiss a hot mouth, and explored the strong back.
He felt Snape's hands reaching for his anus, rubbing slickly over the sensitive tissue there and then a finger making its way into him and Harry pushed back needing more.
One finger became two that pressed and scissored in him, driving him wild and Harry couldn't wait any longer. Snape obviously knew that, for next there was blunt pressure at his anus and Harry felt the initial stretching of intrusion. If there was pain, he didn't notice it between the rush of blood in his body and the overwhelming hotness of Snape's. Then it was urgent and needy and probably without any elegance, but it was perfect and Harry felt alive, alive, alive.
Then his mind exploded and he finally felt relieved and free.
*****
Harry woke up with his body was slightly stiff and aching. At the beginning he couldn't recognise his surroundings but then his mind supplied his with the events of the previous day. He could feel his cheeks flush and his cock react to the memories. Still, he groaned.
Harry couldn't believe he had practically forced himself on Snape. And not only that, but he had done it mere hours after he had buried his Goddaughter. He felt like the ultimate pervert.
His hands buried in his messy tangled hair. He could still smell the faint scent of sex in the room and on himself, even if he was not stained by the remnants of his and Snape's activities.
Snape was nowhere to be seen, but a look at the clock on the wall indicated it was much later than Snape's usual morning hour.
Gathering himself Harry got up and wincing slightly at the discomfort in his rear, made his way to the bathroom.
*****
As expected, Snape was in his lab. Harry knew he had to do it. It was the correct thing to do, even if he feared meeting Snape.
He stood at the arch beyond which was Snape's laboratory but couldn't force his feet to make the steps that would take him in.
"I know you are there, Potter. You might as well come in." Snape's voice sounded as cold and disinterested as usual.
"I am…I mean…" Harry couldn't even form a coherent sentence. "Good morning," he finally settled for.
"It's almost noon already, but I guess that technically you can still say it's morning."
Snape's voice sounded derisive and that made Harry's throat constrict even tighter.
"I…, um… I…," Harry stared at Snape's hands, the same hands that had done wonders his body the night before. He lost his thought and felt his cheeks turn pink.
"You what, Potter?" Snape hadn't shifted his attention from his potions and hadn't even looked at Harry since he had come in. "If you want to say something, do it! If not, then I think you have no reason to be here any longer."
Harry couldn't believe Snape was saying that. He felt his awkwardness and shame be replaced by anger.
"I only wanted to apologise for last night. I shouldn't have attacked you like I did." Harry realised he was shouting but he didn't care. "But I guess that you could have stopped me if you wanted to. Still you didn't, did you Snape?" Harry said the last with sarcastic mockery.
"Potter, I believe that what we did was by mutual choice. I relieve you of your guilt that you have somehow forced yourself on my person." Snape's voice was hostile and cold. "Now, I would ask you to pay me what you owe me and finally leave me in peace. My side of the deal is over. I did everything that I could."
"Did you? Did you really, or did you enjoy to see me suffer?" Harry screamed and a few of Snape's jars exploded under the force of his wild magic. "Maybe you only pretended to do anything and laughed behind my back."
Before Harry could continue, he found himself Silenced and in full body bind. This distracted him enough to help him regain control over his magic.
"Under no circumstances you will question my work and professionalism." Snape hissed the words with such malice that Harry thought drops of acid would start to fall from between his tightly clenched teeth. "I did what you paid me for. I executed my part of our deal. Now I expect you to have the decency to fulfil yours, Potter." Harry couldn't help but notice the hatred that Snape had infused in his name.
Then Snape lifted the Silencing charm and the body bind and turned back to his potions. Harry could as well be empty space for all the attention he received.
He gathered his wits and left Snape's lab, and a few hours later, the area Snape inhabited. He had the firm intention to never ever see Snape again.