Bound by Hatred

A/N: I\'m wondering if I should move this to m/m slash, or even \'general\', simply because Draco is going to play far less of a role in the story from here on out. It will be much more about Harry & Snape (guardian, not slash) and the repercussions of Draco\'s actions. What do you think?

SNAPE\"S CHAMBERS

Days later, Harry found himself sitting on the couch in Snape\'s parlor, wondering for the hundredth time just what in the hell he\'d been thinking, opting for Snape\'s abode. It only occurred to him now, ensconced in the grim, forbidding walls, that he was utterly at the mercy of his least-favorite teacher… Completely isolated with him.

He felt his anxiety mount as his eyes drifted around, taking in the antiquated Potions book, gathering dust on the side table, the worn carpet, the Slytherin wall tapestries. And he nearly jumped out of his skin when Snape returned, clutching two vials of potion.

\"These are both for ingestion during the daytime, Mr. Potter,\" Snape intoned, holding them out for Harry to grasp gingerly in his hand. \"Two sips of the blue with breakfast, three at lunch. The yellow you will drink in its entirety immediately after waking up. And I emphasize: in it\'s entirety… I don\'t want to see a stray droplet.\"

\"What do they do?\"

Or should I ask? He wondered darkly.

\"The blue will serve as an anti-depressant. The yellow,\" Snape tapped it with a stained fingernail, \"Will help you focus upon your tasks, and prevent you from sinking into any unpleasant… fits.\"

Harry stared at them blankly, wondering if he really wanted to go through his days drugged.

Then he thought about those things he didn\'t want to think about, and realized that yes, he most certainly did. Bring on the drugs!

\"Right. Should I-- now?\" he said briskly, waving the vials.

Snape shook his head. \"It\'s too close to your bedtime. There\'s a--\"

\"Bedtime?\" Harry sputtered, almost dropping the vials in surprise. \"Am I five years old now?\"

Snape scowled. \"Madame Pomfrey recommended standardizing your sleep cycles. You\'ve been dozing off in classes for several months now. It\'s clear you haven\'t been sleeping, and I imagine this has done nothing for your state of mind.\"

Harry raked his hand through his hair, unsettled, vague flashes of his nightmares returning to him. He couldn\'t sleep. Not anymore.

\"I, er-- it\'s hard to sleep sometimes.\"

\"Hence,\" Snape said, gesturing for Harry to rise and follow him into the next room, a bedchamber, \"The red potion. I will leave a vial for you every night. You will ingest it at any point between nine and eleven o\'clock. It will ensure eight hours of relatively untroubled sleep.\"

\"Relatively?\" Harry echoed dubiously.

\"You will still dream; I can\'t guarantee what you\'ll dream about. No one can live on Dreamless Sleep alone, Potter,\" Snape admonished. He folded his arms and studied Harry carefully. \"There will be a psychologist from Saint Mungo\'s visiting here five times a week. You will discuss your situation with them.\"

Harry shot him an incredulous look. \"Is that really necessary? Four times… That\'s-- that\'s a lot of talking.\"

And I\'m not talking about it, he thought, feeling a strange panic clawing at the edges. Not with some guy from Saint Mungo\'s. Not with ANYONE.

Snape\'s black eye were clear and perceptive, as though he were looking right into Harry\'s thoughts. \"You will meet with them five times a week; what you choose to do with that time is your business. If you wish to sit in silence, or perhaps debate the merits of Quidditch,\" Snape waved his hand contemptuously, \"I believe it is your prerogative to decide. They will merely be here to assist you if you need it. And the Headmaster insists.\"

There was a long silence, and Harry dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans, feeling awkward again with the fact that he was in Snape\'s chambers.

\"Er, what am I going to do here all day, sir?\"

Snape\'s dark gaze locked upon him, suddenly looking every inch the forbidding potions master. \"Why, I thought that was obvious, Mr. Potter. You\'ve fallen drastically behind in your classes; I imagine it will take several weeks for you to catch up.\"

He hadn\'t really thought about that. Harry glanced down at the carpet, and noticed that the threads were faded with age. \"Right.\"

\"This is--\" Snape paused, as though fumbling for the proper words. \"This is intended as a respite, Mr. Potter, from other stresses in your life. It is not a vacation.\"

\"Got it,\" Harry said, feeling bitter.

\"You will have to apply yourself to improving your situation. I, in the meantime, will work on breaking the curse Mr. Malfoy has placed upon you.\"

Harry flinched at the name, but it still seemed to him like Snape had the easier task.

\"Well, that won\'t be too hard, right?\" he demanded. \"You gave him the… er, the formula, so you know how to undo it.\"

Snape stiffened. \"It is not so simple as that, Mr. Potter.\"

\"Why not?\"

Snape eyed him, and Harry could tell he was choosing his words carefully.

\"This is a rare and antiquated curse, Potter. It traditionally subjected a wizard to his foe for the duration of his life. There are certain complications in the former methods of ending the curse, and the Headmaster and I prefer to research new ones before we proceed.\"

Harry felt a flash of irritation that Snape was clearly dancing around something, but he was suddenly too weary to continue arguing. \"I guess it\'s not a huge deal,\" he muttered. \"If Malfoy\'s in prison, he can\'t really use it, anyway.\"

Snape rolled his eyes, his voice short with increasing impatience. \"Of course it\'s still a problem, Potter. It\'s a potent curse, and it remains capable of a great deal of damage.\" He took a menacing step closer to Harry. \"If, for instance, one of your enemies should enlighten you to the fact that, were you dead and thus unable to testify, Draco might receive a lighter sentence--\"

The words had barely hit the air before Harry shot to his feet. He leaped for the doorway, only half-aware of what he was doing, and struggled valiantly against Snape\'s sudden, restraining grasp. For one blinding instant, all Harry knew was that he had to get up to the Owlery and throw himself off… he had to transfigure a knife and stab himself… he had to-- he had to--

--if he lived it would HARM Draco Malfoy!--

\"They\'d be lying, of course,\" Snape said, his voice strained with exertion as Harry struggled with him, \"For were Draco perceived as culpable in your death, he would likely receive the kiss rather than a sentence to life in Azkaban--\"

--if he died, it would HARM Draco Malfoy!--

And Harry felt himself go still. The older wizard gazed down at him levelly.

\"You see the danger inherent in that curse, Mr. Potter.\"

He saw it. Oh, he saw it all right.

Harry felt strangely light-headed; his throat seemed constricted, and it was increasingly difficult to take a breath. The world dimmed before him, and suddenly he was somewhere else… in that hallway with Blaise Zabini, feeling those hands on him, the hot breath of the other boy against his ear… he was realizing that it would never end, that he was at the mercy of anyone who simply knew about the curse… he was useless, frightened, anyone could do this to him, it could happen again and again and again…

His legs buckled slowly beneath him, and Harry was only vaguely aware of Snape shaking him, shouting for him to snap out of it. Anxiety clawed like a living animal inside him, and wild fears ran through his brain. He wasn\'t safe… He wasn\'t safe… Even here, even now… He still had that curse… He was dirty, tainted, helpless…

A sweet, nectary liquid streamed past his lips, and suddenly the terror grew quiet, as though someone had placed a thick screen between him and those horrible memories. Oxygen flowed into his lungs; he could breathe again.

He dragged his eyes sluggishly open, and realized in a vague, dreamlike way that Snape was propping him up, one arm beneath his back and tucked around his side. He was holding Harry almost the way a father might a sick child. Harry felt himself relax in Snape\'s arms, in an odd, sleepy way feeling content.

\"… perhaps I didn\'t intend to introduce you to that potion so early in the evening, Potter,\" Snape was mumbling, giving a bit of an \'oof\' when he hoisted Harry up onto his bed, \"… but you could use the sleep…\"

Harry was faintly aware of Snape yanking his shoes off, of the covers being draped over his body.

\"Youleaving?\" Harry slurred, unaware his words were barely coherent.

His eyes crept open, and he saw Snape\'s blurry form pause.

\"Do you wish me to stay a moment?\" Snape asked in an odd tone.

\"Mmm.\" Harry couldn\'t quite bring his lips to move anymore. His eyes drifted closed, and he wasn\'t even certain that Snape had understood him.

But in those last moments, right before sleep claimed him, he heard movement. A body, shifting position in a wicker chair.

Snape hadn\'t left.

* * *

If he\'d wondered yesterday why he\'d chosen to stay with Snape, of all people, today he knew exactly why. Harry had emerged from his room for breakfast feeling his cheeks flame with mortification at what he\'d done. His panic attack, his feeble plea for Snape not to leave. It was utterly embarrassing, and it would be all too easy for Snape to sneer at him. Or more humiliatingly, look at him with scornful pity.

But Snape didn\'t glance at him twice. He offered Harry a cool nod of greeting, his black eyes meeting his just briefly, then he turned back to his toast as though nothing had happened.

There was no pity, no concern. No sign that anything of significance had occurred just the night before. It was as though nothing Harry could do would ever penetrate that impassive surface, and he didn\'t pay enough regard to Harry to be overly concerned when he buckled under weakness.

For that courtesy alone, Harry could never express his gratitude.

TBC