Bonds of Affection

When Snape had arrived to his study, he used the basic cleansing spells to remove the blood from his face. He did not bother doing anything else. The night terror had drained him, beyond anything he had ever felt before. He transfigured a chair into a couch, and stretched himself out on it, with his eyes shut.



Had this happened a year ago, or even two weeks ago, he would have been livid, furious, humiliated... but not today. Today, he felt completely spent, and strangely resigned. Nothing bothered him anymore. Not the breaking of rules, not complete invasion of his privacy, not the ruined bedding, not the wrecked door, and not even the fact that Potter had disobeyed, as always, thinking himself to know better than anyone else - and attempted to "help", nearly killing Snape in the process. Of course, he would, Snape thought tiredly. How foolish was he to expect Potter to follow simple, clear, unambiguous instructions.



He slept for a few hours, then got up. Returning to his bedroom, he found it immaculate. The bedding was spelled spotless and clean, traces of blood and dirt were removed from the floor. Even the door had been repaired.



Harry was nowhere to be seen. Snape consulted the surveillance spells - Harry was in his bedroom, making himself scarce. Hermione Granger had gone home shortly after Snape had woken.



In his bedroom, Snape took off his boots, stretched himself on the bed, and promptly, drifted off to sleep again. The dreams were fragmented memories from his past, from fourteen years ago....





Fourteen years ago....



.....in the office of Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape stood in silence, while the old wizard surveyed him thoughtfully.



"Do you understand what you are about to do?" Dumbledore asked, not unsympathetically.



"Not quite," Snape conceded. "But understanding is not required. Only choice."



"Redemption is an interesting phenomenon, Severus," Dumbledore said softly. "Quite difficult to earn, for most people. And in your case..."



Snape smiled bitterly. "I am not doing this to earn anything," he said slowly and evenly. "I don\'t care about personal redemption."



The old man\'s smile was cautious. "Well then.. what do you care about? Or perhaps, I should say... who? "



Snape shrugged indifferently. Dubmledore nodded slowly. "Harry Potter. Of course."



"Of course," Snape whispered quietly, feeling dread course through his entire body at the mere mention of the name.



Dumbledore shook his head. "It is dangerous to make a choice such as this out of guilt."



Snape laughed unpleasantly. "That\'s the best offer you are going to get, I\'m afraid. Take it or leave it, either way, it won\'t make much of a difference to me. I can go, or stay - but my own path is clear."



"Then stay," Dumbledore told him.



Snape gazed at his Headmaster with gratitude, relief flooding him and overtaking him.



“You must know,” Dumbledore said softly. “When the time comes, and the Dark Lord returns... the pain.... will be like nothing you had ever experienced. Not even the Crutiatus curse will compare to this.”



Snape shook his head with a faint smile. It did not matter. He could stay. He could serve. He could be used for something else – even his Dark Mark could be used for something else. He would have wept at the wonder of it, but he had given up that habit years ago.



"I am surprised you would take me," Snape said simply.



Dumbledore winced at those words.



“You are welcome here," Dumbledore said evenly. "However, Severus - you need to understand... No matter the sacrifice, no matter the price you are willing to pay... you will likely remain unforgiven for as long as you live."



Snape nodded readily. "Just as it should be," he agreed. "I couldn\'t hope for more."





When Snape finally woke up again, it was evening. The sun behind the window was setting, and the birds had already fallen silent for the night. Snape cast several spells to refresh and groom himself, and bring his clothing to an acceptably neat state.



When he exited the bedroom, he stopped dead in his tracks. Right by the door, crouched on the floor, was the figure of Harry Potter, who had fallen asleep, apparently waiting for him. Snape considered waking him, but then, just shrugged, and walked away, heading into the dining room.



When he entered there, he saw that the dinner had been prepared and served. It was a luxurious salad of greens, tossed with fruit and unripened cheese – contained within a shimmering shield of a stasis spell. Snape shook his head tiredly. Being stuck with an obnoxious, disrespectful Harry Potter was bad enough. Having to dwell with guilt-ridden, remorseful, unforgiven Harry Potter trying to make amends would be pure torture.



He returned to the hallway, where, by his bedroom door, Harry was still sleeping, frozen in an unnatural position. Snape moved him with his foot a little, not trusting himself to lay his hand on the boy. Harry\'s head shot up and he opened his eyes.



“Sir,” Harry said. “You are alright.”



“No thanks to you,” Snape said sharply. “Get up ... slave. Let\'s go eat before you starve yourself to death out of guilt.”



Harry bowed his head low, but got up slowly, using the wall to support yourself.



“I am truly sorry, you know,” Harry whispered abjectly.



“Yes, I gathered that,” Snape said unsympathetically. “Although, as much as it pains me to say this, it probably wasn\'t entirely your fault.”



Harry gazed at him with his eyes wide open. “What do you mean?”



“Remember the little matter of Voldemort\'s potion that you took? I would be willing to bet that your misguided rescue attempt was driven by the effects of the potion. Poor loyal little slave just couldn\'t let his Master suffer, now, could he? It would go against his instincts.”



Harry sniffled a little. “Maybe the attachment is from the potion,” he muttered. “But stupidity was all mine. I\'m just an arrogant idiot.”



Snape nodded meaningfully. “Truer words have never been spoken, Mr. Potter. Now, to set your self-tortured soul at ease, I assure you that you will be punished. Tomorrow, you will spend the entire day, taking care of my greenhouse, pruning, weeding, watering, softening the soil, and harvesting the Dittany leaves. I will supply you with an instructional manual for your work, that you will follow religiously.”



Harry smiled uncertainly. “Really?” He sounded genuinely relieved and grateful.



“Yes, really. And before you even think to do otherwise, you will find a pair of dragon hide gloves at the entrance. You will wear them. I don\'t want to see any scratches on your hands at the end of the day. More importantly, I don\'t want to see any blood on my plants.”



Harry was still smiling a little, but his voice was absolutely serious. “Of course not, Sir. Blood would interfere with other potion ingredients.”



“Indeed,” Snape said gravely. “And should I require your blood for any of my potions, I can find better ways of drawing it.”



He saw with smug satisfaction that the smile had disappeared from Harry\'s face altogether.