Totem

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used here just the devious little mind making them dance.

//blah, blah, blah // - denotes thoughts

Pairing: Snape X Harry, Harry X Snape

Summary: Harry retreats to Hogwarts after his latest battle seeking safety, comfort and something else.

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Totem

Chapter 1


Professor Severus Snape walked down the vacant hallways of Hogwarts towards his study. How pleasant to be free of the mindless little prats for a while. Most of the other professors had left for the summer holiday, too. Only himself, Pomfrey, and Dumbledore remained. Even Hagrid the ground’s keeper had found some place to go, visiting that insipid dragon, Norbert, as if the damn thingld rld remember the fool. Snape was pleased to have Hogwarts practically to himself. He opened the door to his study and stopped abruptly. Sitting in the chair opposite his desk was a somewhat familiar form. The telltale broken glasses were gone but the haphazard hair still covered his scar in a rakish boyish fashion. He’d grown talker and broader since last he had seen him “So, Potter, back so soon?” he jabbed as he slammed the door and headed to his desk. // Odd he should appear here in my study without the usual fanfare from the Headmaster? // The man continued staring out into space until Snape crossed into his line of sight. Weary eyes met wary ones.

// Dear professor, always so guarded, so suspicious. Hmm, he has reason to be. //

There was a hint of a smile behind the stoic features as a deep voice spoke softly, “No. Just a visit home, a bit of rest after my last assignment.” His head bowed slightly, eyes vacant and absent again.

//Translation: home – a safe, empty school, rest – medical treatment, assignment – saving the world. // Snape looked at the man who, as a boy, had once seamed like the bane of the professor’s existence. His long form sunk heavy in the chair, the mess of black hair now punctuated with strands of pre-mature grey, dark circles wallowing under his drooping red eyes, a shadow of stubble across his hollow cheeks, altogether a face looking far too old for his young age of 22 or was he 23, now? The advanced years on Harry’s visage made Snape momentarily regret being so harsh when he was in school. There was a purpose he reminded himself. He was hard, even to the point of cruelty; to prepare Harry for what Snape knew would be ahead, for the life he was now living. A dangerous brutal life filled with pain, deception and sacrifice. // Well, he’s still alive so I must have done something right. // “Drink?” Snape offered after the long silence.

Harry lifted his drooping head with a small nod and the older man opened a secrete drawer in his desk to reveal a dusty bottle of scotch. He pulled two glasses out of thin air and poured handing a glass to Harry. “To saving the world.”

Harry raised his hand to the toast and easily drained his glass. The stinging warmth of the liquor flooded through his veins bringing him a little closer to reality. He felt eternally indebted to his old potions master. “Mmmm, just as good as I remember it. At least I didn’t get caught filching it this time.” A crooked grin tried to spread across his face making him appear like the ghost of that young boy from 6 years ago. “So how are your new students?”

“Same as ever, ill-mannered and of low intelligence. I have yet to find any to give higher than average marks to. Of course the new professors are just as loathsome...”

Harry leaned back into the chair. He listened to Snape snipe on, laughing inwardly. It was comforting to hear that familiar smooth voice coupled with its sardonic remarks. It brought him fond memories of an easier life. He suddenly felt unbelievable tired.

“…And how many times have you saved the world since last we saw each other?”

Harry closed his eyes. “Oh…10 maybe 12. I loose track…” he mumbled. His breathing was dropping off becoming slow and regular. His glass tumbled softly to the floor. Snape quietly circumvented his desk. He scooped up the glass from the floor before placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Potter?” Harry was fast asleep. Snape sighed, feeling compassion and sympathy towards Harry for possible for the first time. “Wingaurdium Leviosa,” Snape commanded and guided Harry’s levitating body over to rest on the couch. He took the blanket from the back to cover the exhausted man. “Welcome home, Harry.”

Harry slept quietly the remainder of the day as Snape went through the potion books in his study putting everything into careful order. Just before dinner Professor Dumbledore appeared at Snape’s door.

“Ah, I see our guest has found a comforting place to rest.”

“Indeed,” replied Snape noting his elder’s sly misuse of adjectives.

Dumbledore moved close to Harry taking in his appearance much the same as Snape had. “Does he seem alright to you, Severus?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Snape replied disdainfully continuing his cataloguing task. “He said exactly 5 words and then fell asleep.” He stopped, reconsidered his abrupt demeanor and turned to the headmaster, “He looks…tired, Albus.”

“Yes, tired. Such a small word to cover so heavy an answer.” Dumbledore frowned.

“Do you know why he’s here?” //Why he came to me? //

“The same reason he always shows up here when he’s - tired.” // Rest and comfort, my dear friend, he came to you for rest and comfort. // “I feel a foreboding in my bones, Severus, as if things are about to turn whether it be for the better or for the worse….” The Headmaster stroked Harry’s hair fondly.

Snape moved to the elder wizard. “You should leave the dire prophesies of doom and despair to Trelawney. She’s much more melodramatic.”

Dumbledore smiled at his old friend’s glib attempt to act unconcerned. “Yes, well, as that may be, she is not here and I am,” he said with a wink before his face became disturbingly serious again.

“But not for long?” Snape reasoned.

The long white beard bobbed affirmatively. “The ministry has requested my immediate presence. You will watch over him, Severus?”

“Since he’s already glued to my furniture I feel I have little choice in the matter.”

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the fireplace and a blaze illuminated the room. “I shall stop by the kitchen and tell the house elves to bring you both dinner.”

Snape nodded as the wizard left. He moved to Harry whose eyes were twitching in a deep state of sleep. He looked peaceful. “Things are hardly ever as they appear are they, Mr. Potter?” Harry stirred and mumbled in his sleep, “yes, professor...”

There was a clatter at the door as a couple of small elves came in with two completely full platters. They looked around, befuddled, trying to find a place to set them.

“Oh for the love of… on the DESK!” Snap groaned and pointed.

The elves were none too quiet setting everything down and the noise was enough to rouse Harry. He rubbed at his eyes. “Where…?” He looked around confused. Panic was beginning to well up until he saw professor Snape. Only then was able to take in to account where he was and that he was safe. Safe in Snape’s office, Harry bemused himself; he was far from the boy he had once been if this was where he chose to take refuge. He pushed back the blanket and tried to set up as Snape corralled the elves. Pain shot through his chest causing him to hiss and growl. When it cleared he looked up at Snape standing over him with a knitted brow that could have easily been concern or more likely extreme annoyance.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, but perhaps the food can come to me instead of the other way around?” He winced again trying to turn forward. Snape helped Harry sit completely up before gathering a plate of food for him.

The fireplace suddenly went green the the face of Madam Pomfrey appeared. “Professor, have you seen Harry?”

“I’m right here Madam Pomfrey.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed, Harry. Your wounds are much too severe to be running around visiting old friends…”

“By this point in my life I can handle a couple of bruised ribs like most people handle a sniffle, madam, and I’m not running around visiting old friends. I’m in professor Snape’s study.”

“You need constant care and medical attention if you get any worse….”

“My couch is as good for him as any of those wooden slabs in the infirmary you call beds. I think he’ll get more rest here wouldn’t you agree, Poppy?”

“Very well. Please be sure he gets a good dose of bonemendraught and pain elixir, will you?”

“Yesss!” Snape impatiently hissed at her.

Confident that she had done her job, the flames returned to their normal color minus her disembodied head.

Snape handed Harry another glass of scotch. “Your pain elixir.”

“hmmmm and bonemendraught!” Harry hummed as he sipped the delightful drink. He ate and drank in Snape’s quiet company. Finally his stomach was full and the pain was subsiding; it was good to be at Hogwarts. Good to be with Snape. He looked up at his unfortunate host. He understood Snape better now, his harshness during school and all the things he tried to drill into Harry’s head. Yes, his affection for the man had grown. It was Snape he relied on to pull him from the brof dof death; the terse words to propel him forward, the harsh rebukes warning him of danger, the simple image of the man could sustain his sanity in the worst of battles. He felt his mind drifting … so many painful battles. Harry’s vision became dim. The sound of people yelling in pain and terror, the smell of burning flesh was coming over him. Darkness filled his sight. No, not now. He concentrated on his immediate surroundings. Slowly he could see row after row of heavy books, feel smooth leather under his hands, and across from him, there was Snape with cold hard scowl, long black hair, sexy low voice. He’s everywhere here; in the smell of the air, the feel of the couch, the warmth of the fire and the blanket. It felt so comfortable surrounded by the feel and trappings of his totem It lulled him into a sense of wholeness and well being he had long missed. Harry slid down into the soft couch and let Snape’s aura wrap around him completely.

Snape pondered over Harry’s sudden misty-eyed expression while looking at him. The scotch was good but not that good. Then again Harry’s injuries could have been more extreme than they appeared. Snape still could not fathom why of all the places in Hogwarts Harry chose to step foot into the study of his most reviled professor. “What do you want, Mr. Potter? Why are you here?” The sleeping man was not about to answer Snape so he set about cleaning up the dishes and making ready for sleep himself.

*** TBC ***