||[Aug. 13th, 2006|11:00 pm]
Snape's Suckups (Slash group)
|||||Garbage- Cups of Coffee||]|
(Under the Glamour)
Warning: Child abuse, self-harm, rape, SLASH (m/m pairing), other stuff.
Disclaimer: I only wrote this not the series; I make no money from this, but I am using it to help my writing skills. Please don’t prosecute me!
Chapter 2: Two Birds
The train was still, the platform empty, and the air on the train remained stale and undisturbed since he last rode, but over all it was the most peace Harry had been allowed all summer. He didn’t know exactly what was bruised or simply broken but he didn’t care, they would be healed when he arrived at Hogwarts later that afternoon. Apparently during the summer the train ran once a week for Hogsmeade, though rarely anyone used it as apparation and floo were far more convenient. Fortunately luck was on Harry’s side as it happened to be going today. The only problem was once he got there he would have to walk all the way up to Hogwarts unless he could find someone to put his firebolt back to its rightful size. Even then he still had to wonder if Snape even stayed over during holidays or if he went off to stay with someone else. Most certainly Albus would not be helping him.
However that could all wait until he got there, at the moment he was tired and hungry but as he looked down into the tacky lunch box the thought of food seemed far less appealing. Knowing he had to get used to eating more though he tried a small bit of crust and drank a little of the juice to keep it down.
Harry was soon wishing he hadn’t eaten any as his stomach growled at him to eat but he knew more would have him retching all over the carpeted floors and burgundy chairs. He decidedly tucked the food away in his trunk for the time being and tried his best to finish his homework while he had the time and freedom to do so. Reaching for his potions text and half way broken ball point pen Harry began highlighting key facts and writing notes beside his text cross referencing with his Herbology books in order to understand the potions he would be making that year. After much thought he started on his essay the topic caused his smile to make a brief appearance, Explosive Reactions of Benign Ingredients. Harry had to choose two common ingredients in most potions and why they react badly together without a stabilizer, such as ground earthworm. This mildly reminded him of his own relationship to the normally calm Potions Master. Chuckling at the thought Harry bent back over his paper and went to work.
By the time the train stopped in Hogsmeade the sky had taken on a dark shade and looked full to bursting in front of the blood red sunset Harry knew lay behind it. Picking up his bags Harry made the trek to the front of the train to see the conductor about his broom shortly. Unfortunately for Harry the conductor was a squib and at the question had looked down sadly in his graying robes as though ashamed of even existing. Harry felt much the same for himself.
Upon exiting the train the boy-who-lived began his slow walk up to the castle, legs throbbing from disuse, bruises, and possible fractures, and heart pounding as he bemoaned his fate. Harry walked head bent tears streaming down his bruised face and into reopened cuts stinging annoyingly. With his head down, dead leaves of varying shades pressed into the mud, he walked absently trying to distract himself from his pains, glamours rising automatically over the worst of his injuries as he focused. Suddenly a cry of pain filled the air as Harry hit the ground with a thud; a long shadow cast over the sun.
“Potter?” Severus uttered in disbelief. Hands stinging from the rocks and pebbles Harry raised blurry eyes to meet those of the voice waking him from his stupor. Wincing as his professor addressed him.
“Potter are you deaf? I asked what you are doing here. If I am not mistaken you should be with those relatives of yours.” Snape watched the boys face carefully shock painting the boys eyes and drawing his mouth open. At the mention of his relatives Harry let his shoulders slump just knowing he would be sent back. Why should he ever think that Snape would help him? The younger man flushed with embarrassment and began to mutter apologies; unbeknownst to him his silvery tears were not hidden by his waist length hair.
To say that the Potions Master was concerned might be stretching the truth but the lines of confusion around his mouth were hard to deny. Why should the boy act like this? Severus was determined to know. The professor reached out to the boy, but when his hand brushed the distracted youths shoulder and brought out a flinch Snape bent down and put his thumb beneath the brunettes chin tilting it up to talk to him. However when the neck beneath the face met the light several rings of bruises caught Severus’ attention. Blue met yellow in nasty shades of puce and violet settled along the boys Adams apple.
Snape’s gasp caught Harry’s attention as he was awaiting the verbal lashing he associated with the most hated professor of Hogwarts. Realizing what it was that had drawn the man’s attention Harry tried to stand up and back away as quickly as possible. Though he had wanted this professor’s help, he didn’t think that he would have to show the damage to anyone. Had he been so foolish as to think he could just ask Snape for potions, potentially addictive potions, without showing him reason or proof of his need?
In his hurry to get away Harry forgot about his injuries and the consequences of jarring these injuries. Harry nearly screamed at the fire shooting from his ribs and other points of injury. Instead once he had stood, clumsily at best noted his professor, Harry had to fight the waves of nausea with his head between his knees. Gasping in pain and cursing his luck as he felt bile reach the back of his throat Harry took a deep, hopefully calming, breath.
Severus Snape had been witness to many death eaters acting in a similar fashion after a round of torture however he had rarely seen this in daylight and never from Harry Potter. Just as he was thinking of offering the boy a steadying hand, though no potions as he had no idea what to treat yet, the brunette swayed skin waxy graying as he collapsed sideways strong hands grabbing him before he could damage himself further. Leaning the youth backwards and placing his arm beneath the crook of boney knees Snape lifted the boy up and began his way back to Hogwarts. His ingredients could wait another day.
Though Potter was heavy and dead weight Snape couldn’t shake the feeling that he should weigh much more and that at sixteen years old he should be too heavy for a man as lanky as Severus to carry.
The steady rhythm of Severus’ heart and the soft padding of his boot clad feet only woke Harry for a second. Groaning from the pain Harry only said a few murmured words before drifting back into a much more contented unconsciousness nestling further into his professor’s warm black robes.
“D…dun tells Dumble…” Severus would respect his wish as long as he received an explanation later. As it was he was enjoying the comforting weight in his arms too much to argue with the obviously ill boy, though he wondered at how small his burden felt.
The first thing to assault Harry’s senses as he rose to consciousness was the delicate scent of tea. The thought of the warm liquid made for as good an excuse as any to wake up. Harry just hoped his aunt would let him have some today. This thought however was driven out of his mind as his feet hit the icy floor.
Now he remembered quite clearly where he was and he only hoped that the Potions Master wouldn’t throw him out or demand answers. But he knew the two were mutually exclusive. If he didn’t bother to explain his reasons for walking to Hogwarts then the Professor would have no choice but to send him home even if he didn’t want to. Harry was positive he would throw him on his ear as soon as he possibly could, even if he explained. That would be after he patched Harry up, Snape may be cruel but he was not heartless Harry knew that much.
Harry drug himself out of the warm bed with its surprisingly soft red sheets, he wondered if perhaps he had slept in Snape’s bed. Walking hesitantly, unsteadily, Harry tried to hide his wince whenever he stepped on his right food a little heavily. Peaking around the doorway into a shockingly warm living room, in which Severus Snape sat comfortably sipping what Harry, now recognized as an orange based tea, he was startled to be addressed.
“Mr. Potter, how do you like your tea? I am sure a House Elf would be willing to make it to your specifications, they don’t have enough to do during the holidays.” The boy just stood there, wide eyes staring at a relatively normal Snape.
“Mr. Potter did you hear me?” Harry nodded mumbling something about earl grey and sugar as he went to stand awkwardly by the sofa staring down at his grimy clothes next to the pristine furniture and floors that were precisely Snape. The sound of a gunshot signaled the arrival of the House Elf, Severus however seemed unfazed as he looked up from his own tea to watch Harry’s reaction to everything going on. On the outside the boy seemed calm but his suppressed flinches were not imperceptible to someone who knew what to look for.
“Mr. Potter sir! What is you doing here at summer time no students are to be at Hogwarts you shouldn’t…?” The spy’s glare quickly shut up the little creature.
“A small pot of Earl Grey if you would Dobby, also bring down a plate of sandwiches.” Severus addressed the Elf curtly but not in a hostile manner, once again surprising the Boy-who-lived. Harry hid his widened eyes by looking down.
“Actually professor, I umm… I ate on the train I don’t…”
“Potter that was more than half a day ago.”
“Oh, well I guess a small sandwich would be good about now...sir.” He mumbled to the dark wood of the table. The seats, Harry noted, were far more comfortable than expected though even this was barely enough to distract him from the nausea at the thought of so much food. Flinching at the departing elf’s noise, Harry busied himself unfolding his napkin for his lap.
“Why Potter I do think this is the first display of manners from you yet.” The drawl in the voice sounding less venomous and more teasing than before. The boy however barely noticed anything around him, so intent on his napkin and avoiding both the present and past.
“Sorry sir.” He mumbled with eyes still cast down on what, Severus was considering, had to be the damnedest napkin in existence for one to be so enthralled with it. In reality he knew Harry wasn’t seeing the napkin, the glassy eyes were enough of an indicator.
The Head of Slytherin knew that look all too well. It was a look many of his charges donned, and he knew that he should choose his words carefully, if he spoke at all, in order to get the whole story. By the dim light of his rooms it looked as though the boys eyes were lightly bruised as well as his jaw and neck, but Snape knew not to trust the lights completely, glamours were learned in second year. Severus was almost sure what he saw was the fading of glamours, and were that the case removing them should be a simple task.
Half an hour later Severus was growing frustrated that all the ‘insufferable boy’ would say was ‘yes sir’ ‘no sir’ or ‘thank you sir’ and he had yet to look at the Potions master’s face. Snape ate at his usual brisk pace hoping that the ‘Potter brat’ wouldn’t take too long to finish his measly half sandwich, especially since half the contents of the sandwich were laying on his plate.
However upon inspection only half a slice of bread and cup of tea had been consumed and the boy was looking decidedly green.
“Potter… Harry, are you…?” However the sentence was cut short as Harry made a run for the sink and retching could be heard filling the old basin and echoing painfully in the small space, bounding off the metal and stone that made up the kitchen. As Harry looked up and went to turn on the sink for fresh water, a cold glass was held out in thin strong hands.
Harry was flushed red from losing his tea but to Severus’ amazement turned a shade darker at the gesture.
“School starts in a couple of weeks Potter, how are you going to deal with the feast?” Severus sighed. Green replaced red for a moment before the boy wonder straightened to look level in the Professor’s eyes.
“It will be no different from any other professor Snape; my friends know a fraction of my situation...”
“What might that situation be Potter, I have been patient up to this point, I have fed, or attempted to, I have tried to help you but there is only so much I can do without knowing what you are going through?” Frustration tainting his voice, it took a moment of silence to recollect himself before the Professor continued. “Harry what are you doing here?”
Words so simple yet so difficult to answer, Harry was unsure whether he should tell the truth or not, but with Snape one only had one option.
“Professor, I… we need to sit for this it will take a while.” Moving in to the sitting room in front of the cold fire and into soft worn chairs Severus aimed his wand at the grate.
“Incendio.” Roaring flames twisting in their seductive dance soon warmed the two as they sat in silence waiting for the boy to begin.
“Perhaps at the beginning” Snape suggested growing irritated. Harry swallowed, glancing at his professor with glassy eyes and turning back to the fire to keep from crying.
“I don’t remember the beginning, I guess it would be my cupboard, or maybe back with my parents.”
“Your cupboard?” Snape asked intrigued already. Harry glanced back at him angrily and he knew to wait for the rest before questioning.
“Sir, I’ve never told any of this to another living soul, not even Ron and Hermione. So with all due respect I say this. Shut up and let me finish.” There was that spark Snape had been wanting; the vacant Harry wasn’t any fun. When had he started calling the boy Harry?
“My cupboard was a hole in the wall in hell, a small supply cupboard under the stairs. My Aunt kept cleaners in there and my Uncle kept me in there, along with the spiders and occasional mouse. The cupboard was the start of my problems in that house, you see professor the cupboard, too small for more than a crib mattress, was a bedroom for the first yen years in that house. After my letter came they moved me into my cousin’s second bedroom.” Again he looked over at the Potions Master to make sure he was paying attention.
“The rumor is true then?” Harry nodded to the older man and turned back to his fire. He was startled back into conversation when one of the logs popped and crumbled loudly.
“Too much like Quirrell.” Harry mumbled taking to watching the salamanders gathering on the hearth in stead. “My life was relatively normal until the summer before my second year. Of course I was still fed little if any, but they decided I was dangerous at some point and so my room had bars put on the window, and they took to locking me in my room from several locks on the outside, my aunt however talked him into a cat flap for food because she didn’t ‘want the little freak to die’” Harry chuckled darkly.
As Harry continued Severus became more and more disgusted with both muggles and him self for treating the poor boy the way he had. He was alerted by the sudden silence and the fact that the boy had pulled his feet into his expensive chair. Nothing was said though as he realized the boy had stopped talked around the end of his fourth year. Glistening tears clung to the boys dark lashes wetly, his eyes stood out in red rims.
“What happened the last two summers Harry?” Snape asked almost afraid of the answer.
“My Uncle had only belted me a bit before, but he didn’t get that raise or he would hear the neighbors talking about me. It was my fault he would say. When someone’s reinforcing that idea with blood it’s hard to remember it is wrong.” Harry curled a little tighter and looked directly at his teacher. “Professor, do you know how I learned to count? When I was in kindergarten my teacher was ‘nice’ enough to inform the Dursleys I was a little behind in math. I ended up counting every spank when punished and if I got it wrong once the belt was brought out and I was told to start over.” Tears ran slowly down his cheeks.
“‘Get it wrong again and twenty more and we’ll start over boy!’” Harry imitated the booming voice while laughing brokenly. Severus’ heart reached out to the broken man before him, while Severus himself sat stoic. “After fourth year he went back to the belt, the metal end, he got tired of it really quick and started to look for new ways of punishing me. I was afraid when I went back this summer, the night before I went back to Hogwarts the year before he decided to congratulate me, and give me my birthday present.” Snape was shaking his head as Harry stared at him and the glamour finally snapped.
“He’s been… r…raping me since my fifteenth birthday. It got to be a routine by the time I left. Get up, make breakfast and either be raped or molested while he ate or he would beat me after. He’d come home after my aunt and I did chores and beat me after dinner, go to bed and he would come in after his midnight snack, which usually left him smelling like whiskey.” Empty sobs and dry heaves came from Harry and a single tear fell on Snape’s black clad knee where he was currently staring to avoid look at the wizarding world’s thrice damned Savior.