Chapter Text
Hogwarts was shrouded in darkness and silence. The lanterns along the many walls were only dimly lit and causing the massive stone pillars to cast long shadows in the eerie light. It was way past bedtime; the sky outside the big windows had already turned dark, only sprinkled with the faint light of stars millions of light-years away. The long hallways were empty and the staircases had stopped moving for the night. The students had gone to sleep hours ago and even the members of the staff had put their quills aside to finally get some rest after a long day. There was one boy who fought to stay awake by walking through hallway after hallway, passing empty classrooms with abandoned books and cauldrons. There was something spooky about seeing a place that usually is full of life and laughter abandoned and Harry felt as if he could almost touch the emptiness.
”Potter!”
A booming voice rang, stopping the boy who was shuffling along the corridor in his tracks.He looked back over his shoulder, but the hallway was obscured in shadows. Despite the lack of light, Harry knew exactly whose voice shattered the silence only seconds ago. Harry sighed and balled his hands into fists in frustration. Wandering the castle past curfew was against the rules and Harry was pretty sure that the man behind him would not let that offence slide so easily.
A tall, slim figure stepped out of the shadows in one fluid motion, his long black robes almost giving the impression that he was floating towards Harry, who was clad in his faded pj bottoms and the oversized reindeer jumper he had gotten as a Christmas present from Hermione. Only the faint echo of soft steps indicated that the man was indeed walking and not floating. Harry turned around to face his teacher, knowing that the satisfied expression in the other’s eyes wasn’t a good sign at all.
“Professor Snape.” Harry's voice sounded loud in the empty hallway even though he had spoken without force, his voice tinged by resignation. The eerie light and the shadows emphasized the man’s black eyes in the otherwise pale face.
“By the guilty look on your face, I assume that you know that it is way past curfew and you shouldn’t be wandering around,” the professor sneered, his head slightly tilted as if he was studying an interesting but annoying insect. The professor’s tone was condescending and his expression cold. His lips were pressed together in a thin line and one eyebrow rose as if to dare Harry to come up with a witty remark. Harry was fresh out of witty remarks and reasonable explanations so he just looked at the man silently. He would get detention for breaking the rules no matter what he said. This wasn’t new; it was almost comforting in its familiarity. Harry had been caught breaking rules by the professor countless times and had suffered long hours of detention involving scrubbing dirty cauldrons or organizing potion ingredients.
Harry nodded, compliance and surrender written all over his face for a couple of seconds before it changed into a neutral expression. He knew what would happen so well, like one who would know the steps to a complicated dance that had been danced a thousand times; the same partners going through the same motions until they lost their meaning.
“Lumos,” Severus Snape lit his wand and held it close to Harry's face, who had to close his eyes because of the sudden brightness.
“Why are you wandering around at night? Let me guess,” Snape paused and a faint smile changed his features, “you are up to something, aren’t you?”
“No professor, I don’t--”
“Potter, don’t waste my time with your stupid lies!” Snape narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at the boy’s hunched shoulders and the dark circles under Harry’s eyes.
The bravado that the boy usually displayed was nowhere to be found and he almost looked sad and exhausted. The professor mentally noted all the changes in the boy’s appearance, from the gloomy pale skin to the slim stature and bright green eyes behind the ugly glasses. The professor was highly suspicious because the teen had a long history of breaking rules, getting himself and his group of friends in trouble. Seeing Harry by himself was odd and the teacher was sure he was missing something important. Harry had been quiet the last couple of days, not participating in the usual roughhousing between Gryffindors and Slytherins nor had he been bragging about his Quidditch team at dinner as usual. From Snape's place at the headmaster's table he had noticed the change in behavior as well as the still full plates of food that returned untouched to the kitchen. The professor kept an eye on this particular boy from time to time, just to make sure that he wouldn’t get himself or other students killed. As it seemed, Harry put very little thought into his own safety. Another part of Harry's personality that reminded the teacher of his old enemy and Harry's father, James.
The professor looked around and realized that they were standing only a few steps away from the storage room he usually kept the more expensive and rare potion ingredients. Snape frowned and took another look at the boy who was a picture of guilt with his hunched shoulders and the way he avoided eye contact at any cost.
“Elderroot”, the professor whispered, seeing rows and rows of jars in his storage room before his mind’s eye. Only this morning he had discovered that the jar with Elderroot was missing, which was especially irritating because it was hard to come by at this time of year. He had immediately suspected theft because of the drug-like qualities of the expensive herb. Could the boy somehow be involved?
The professor mentally added the fact that Harry was out and about at night to his odd and changed behavior. These could be interpreted as signs of abusing the herb and Harry certainly wouldn’t be the first wizard to turn to Elderroot. Snape had the storage room warded, but he was pretty sure that if the boy had asked the right questions to unsuspecting staff he would have been able to deactivate it. Harry was certainly not the smartest student or the most powerful amongst them, but his own way of doing things often resulted in him outsmarting many others. So it could be possible that he was the thief and meeting Harry in the dark hallway only a few yards from the room made it even plausible.
“What?” Harry stammered, confusion and fear dimming his otherwise bright eyes. Harry had not the slightest idea what the professor was talking about, but he knew that he was in a lot of trouble, not only for being out after curfew. So much he could read in the older man’s dark eyes. Harry's friends often complained that the teacher was hard to read, his face like a stone mask not revealing anything helpful to a student in trouble. Harry could never quite agree because in his opinion the other man conveyed a whole lot through his eyes. They always seemed to shift slightly in color, sometimes they just seemed darker, his gaze almost burning as it followed Harry. Now Snape's eyes were narrowed, as if he was analyzing a complicated problem. Harry rubbed his scar absentmindedly, trying to think of something that he could say to his teacher.
“You stole it, didn’t you?” Snape's voice was colored by anger but underneath he almost sounded disappointed.
Harry's eyes widened and he automatically took a couple steps back, his heart thumping painfully at this serious accusation. Breaking house rules were one thing, but stealing could mean that he would get expelled, especially if the teacher discovering it decided to formally request it. Harry licked his chapped lips, all of a sudden anxious.
Snape shook his head in disapproval and reached out to grab Harry by his wrists. He would not tolerate any attempt at flight to the Gryffindor dorms so that Harry could get help from his annoying friends or even worse McGonagall. It was potion ingredients that got stolen and he was the one who had found a suspect which gave him formally the right to decide on the boy’s punishment if he found out that Harry was guilty. Something he planned to enjoy very much.
“No, I haven’t stolen anything. I never steal. Please, believe me.”
Harry sounded pathetic and he knew it. He tried to convince himself that he was a Gryffindor, brave and strong, but his inner voice failed miserably. Getting caught in a dark hallway, past curfew by the person who probably hated him the most of all the people currently in the castle and being accused of theft by said person had his courage disappearing in seconds.
Harry hadn’t slept for days and he couldn’t even remember the last meal he had. He was exhausted and too tired to come up with a plausible explanation as to why he was in that hallway, but the truth was that he had none. Only insomnia and nightmares.
Snape's cold hand gripped Harry's wrist tight, Harry could feel the long slender fingers close around his bones. His head swam and he inhaled sharply, sudden fear sending a cold shiver down his spine.
“You know that it is futile to lie to me. I am able to get the truth in matter of seconds. Of course it is frowned upon to subject students to such powerful magic however, on the other hand, one has to expect trouble if one wanders dark hallways at night.” The man pointed the still illuminated wand at Harry's head, his lips forming inaudible words.
Harry felt the wooden tip of the wand grazing the skin on his temple and swallowed repeatedly as the man stepped even closer. He could feel the professor’s breath on his cheek, warm on his cold skin. Harry could smell a hint of peppermint and something earthy, probably coffee or tobacco. A surprisingly pleasant smell, which added to Harry's confusion and tied his tongue into knots. Harry knew what Snape was planning on doing and a jolt of panic doubled his heartbeat.Before Harry was able to beg his teacher to stop the scenery around him changed and he was back in his latest nightmare, the one he had fled from by walking the endless hallways of the giant castle. Walking was better than dreaming.
----TRIGGER WARNING-----
Harry shut his eyes tightly and bit his lips in an attempt not to scream. He was thankful for the darkness embracing him, even though he still felt everything. It was in moments like this he wished not only to be blind, but deaf and mute as well. He balled his hands into fists, pressing his nails into his palms until a wet sensation told him that he had drawn blood. He only pressed harder, causing pain to shoot from his hand and distract him momentarily. He focused on the pain, concentrated on the blood running down his hands. The distraction only lasted a second until he got pulled back to reality when hot breath hit his stomach and a low moan made him shudder in repulsion.He fought to stay focused on the pain in his hand, but couldn’t as something wet and rough swept over his belly. Harry felt saliva dry on the exposed skin on his lower belly and his stomach churned painfully. Harry made no sound while a scared voice in his mind screamed and screamed and screamed. Suddenly he got yanked by his legs and flipped over, his upper body hitting the cold floor with a thud followed by a louder one as Harry bumped his head painfully. Harry felt disorientated for a moment, his head pulsed in painful waves that made it difficult for him to keep track of everything that happened around him.Strong hands gripped his legs again, forcing him to bend his knees. Harry struggled for breath and put his hands on the floor but it was almost impossible to hold his body upright, the blood seeping from his hands made the floor slippery. The metallic smell of his own blood hit his nostrils and chased away the odor of the man who was now leaning over him, his hands wandering over Harry’s body like he owned him; touching exposed skin and repeatedly licking Harry’s ear.
Harry felt the cold air on his exposed skin and he shuddered with every unwanted touch. He tried to breathe through his mouth to avoid the smell of sickeningly sweet aftershave and sweat combined with bodily fluids. Harry’s knees hurt from kneeling on the stone floor and he tried to focus on that particular pain, ignoring everything else that happened to his body. Silent tears stained his cheeks and hands, but no sound escaped his lips. He knew if he was silent and compliant he could at least avoid being beaten so badly that he wouldn’t be able to walk for days. He tried not to throw up because he would have to clean it afterwards. Then all thoughts disappeared from his mind as a blinding pain paralyzed him, freezing his body and stopping his heart for several seconds. That’s when he screamed, even though he knew it wouldn’t help him, but he couldn’t handle the pain, couldn’t handle the feeling of being ripped apart. As the other man invaded his body he also invaded Harry’s mind, calling him the most ugly things. His mind slipped away, trying to escape the reality of excruciating pain tormenting his body but he got pulled back by the man’s hands and words over and over again. Every breath Harry took was a struggle, a fight against the voice inside his mind telling him that it would be so much easier if he just let go and stopped breathing. He held his breath, tired of fighting to survive and the pain that filled his body slowly ebbed away leaving nothing but numbness in its wake.
-----TRIGGER WARNING ENDS----
Suddenly everything went quiet, dark,and numb, and Harry embraced the darkness with relief. Harrys body shook violently for a second before he slowly sank to the ground. The potions master was able to stop Harry’s fall in the last second, throwing his arms around the boy’s limp body.
Severus Snape kneeled on the stone floor, holding Harry in his arms. He stared in shock at the familiar features now contorted in pain and horror. The sounds Harry had made only seconds ago didn’t sound human, and they were for sure no sounds that should ever escape a child’s mouth. Snape's own mouth felt dry and his hands were covered in cold sweat, he felt exposed and somehow raw, stripped of his usual sarcasm and bitterness that held the world at a comforting distance. Witnessing images of such horror and experiencing a fraction of the boy's pain left him trembling in blinding rage.
The professor had no idea how he could stumble across such a traumatic memory because he had only used a fraction of his powers to enter the boy’s mind, certain that the lie would be the one thing Harry was thinking about. Snape's plan had been to catch the boy lying, guilty of theft and drug abuse.Entering another person’s mind was a tricky thing which is why teachers weren’t allowed to use it on the students. But since he hadn’t put any power behind the spell he had been sure that he wouldn’t even get farther than what the boy ate for breakfast this morning.
Entering Harry's mind had felt completely different than entering minds usually felt. Snape didn’t use this specific power a lot; he wasn’t especially interested in other people's petty thoughts or outlook on the world. But if he had to do it, it was only when he needed information he couldn’t come by any other way.The feeling when he entered someone’s mind was best described as if he was caught in gum and had to fight his way through it. A sticky barrier created by the brain to prevent intruders. Of course it never stopped him, just slowed him down at best if the person was powerful enough.
The boy’s features had lost the horrified expression and changed into a calm one. His erratic breathing slowed down until the professor wasn’t even sure Harry was still alive. He put his ear near the boy’s face and the small puffs of air told him that the boy wasn’t in any imminent danger, at least physically.
Harry felt thin in his arms, only skin and bones hiding under the oversized and faded clothes. The professor felt sweat trickle down his spine despite the fact that it wasn’t warm in the hallway and his black robes were thin and silky. Severus Snape recalled the sensation of using the spell on the boy. There was no sticky barrier like he had expected, instead there was the feeling of standing on a cliff and jumping right into the black nothingness underneath. It had only taken the fraction of a second and the professor had found himself in a memory. Inside Harry's mind he was able to see and hear everything that happened in this specific memory, but he could only experience a small amount of the sensations and feelings attached to it. It had been the memory of a nightmare, but the underlying horror and pure animalistic fear told him that this nightmare originated in a real memory, something that had happened to the lifeless boy in his arms.
Bile rose in the teacher’s throat at the thought of what he had seen and the implications of it. He could feel Harry's heartbeat, fast and unsteady as he hugged the boy to his chest. He looked down and studied the face of the boy that provoked in him a myriad of feelings on a daily basis, most of them not necessarily positive. As Harry had grown older and reached his teenage years the boy’s sole appearance had haunted the potions master. The wild mop of hair and chin an exact copy of the person he had hated the most paired with eyes that reminded him of the person he had loved the most. Harry’s appearance and Gryffindor bravado had the professor’s blood boiling on several occasions over the years. He had never paused to look at the boy like he did now, afraid of the memories it would provoke of a long distant past he’d rather forget.
Snape gingerly removed the glasses from Harry's face and put them into his robes pocket. Being inside Harry's memory had somehow made the boy three dimensional, a person in his own right, with his own experiences instead of a shadow of the past. A tremor ran through Harry's body and Snape realized that he had spent far too long staring at the boy truly seeing him for the first time, fighting the pure horror of witnessing what the boy had endured. He needed to get him to a warm and secure place or they both would have a lot to explain if they were found by another member of the staff.
Several minutes later Snape arrived in his rooms, carrying Harry carefully like he was a delicate object made of glass. The room was big, with a green velvet sofa in its center but otherwise sparsely furnitured .A fire was lit in the giant fireplace, crackling merrily and spreading its warmth through the entire room. On a small wooden table next to the sofa sat a teacup, still half filled with cold tea and next to it was a dog eared paperback
Snape gingerly put Harry down on the sofa, making sure the boy was comfortable by picking up a fuzzy blanket and wrapping it around Harry's slim figure. No one would have described the professor as caring or compassionate, but the truth was that he didn’t like to see Hogwarts students in pain, even if said students annoyed him on a daily basis and the professor was well aware that the spell he had used could have serious consequences, especially if you poked at traumatic memories.
Harry opened his eyes slowly, his head swimming and vision blurry so that he could only make out a pale face with burning black eyes and a prominent nose. The face was so close that their noses almost brushed before it left his field of vision. He felt disoriented, with fear just looming under the surface. He could feel that he was lying somewhere comfortable, soft and plush fabric underneath his body.. The coldness he had felt in the hallway was entirely gone and he was wrapped up in a soft blanket. His body trembled violently despite the warmth and his teeth chattered with every shiver that shook his body.
“Harry?” A deep man’s voice inquired softly, almost a whisper. Harry realized who the voice belonged to and shut his eyes briefly as he remembered the professor’s wand pointed at his head and only seconds later the feeling of Snape's presence inside his mind. Suddenly he wasn’t alone in his head with the fearful thoughts and memories, someone else could see them as well and Harry had never felt so ashamed in his entire life. Just the thought of the man knowing his deepest and darkest secret made his stomach lurch. Would he tell anyone? Now that the professor, who already hated him for a myriad of reasons, knew that he was dirty-impure-used. Harry didn’t dare open his eyes, worried to see the other man's disgust at what he was forced to witness. Something Harry had tried to hide for such a long time, afraid of seeing people look at him with the same disgust he looked at himself. He wouldn’t be able to stand their intrusive questions nor their pity.
A sob escaped from the boy, his body shaking and tears staining the pale cheeks.
Professor Snape sat down next Harry, his hand pausing in the air for several seconds before he laid it gingerly on top of Harry’s smaller one. Currently the man was at loss for words at the boy’s pain and the suffering he had endured. Nothing he could say could make Harry feel better or take away the severity and the wrongness of his own actions. The green eyes looked at him again, clouded by unspeakable pain, the horrors of his past mirrored in their depths.
“I am so very sorry” Snape whispered,unsure whether he was referring to his own forbidden usage of a powerful spell on a student or the events he had witnessed. The words were almost inaudible, forced around a lump in the older man's throat.
Severus Snape wasn’t used to apologizing and it had been quite a long time since he last felt pure compassion for another person. Over the years he found himself growing colder and more indifferent to the sufferings and woes of other people. This however was different, he could still hear the boy's painful cries ringing in his ears and his blood rising in rage at what had happened to an innocent child.
Harry seemed so vulnerable right now, almost dwarfed by the blanket the professor had put around him to keep him warm. Snape felt pure hatred for the man who had done this to the boy and that he could have killed him in a heartbeat if he were to have been in the same room. The professor wasn’t able to see who it was because the memory consisted only of darkness, feelings and sensations, but he immediately guessed who it could have been. Snape knew what it felt like to be at the mercy of a violent man, even if his experiences were nearly harmless compared to what Harry had been through.
Green eyes found his own and for the first time since he had laid eyes on the boy all those years ago, he didn’t think that Harry's eyes looked just like Lily’s. In fact they were quite different, bigger with thick black lashes and golden dots sprinkled across the green of the iris. Eyes that held unspeakable pain and suffering. Harry's eyes, the professor realized, not Lily’s