Afraid to Live, Afraid to Die

**Please do not comment on how I write. It's simple. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it. If there are mistakes however, you are more than welcome to point those out. This is Harry/Snape and will get dirty at some point, so please be patient.**



Italics - Harry's Writing

Bold - Mental Speaking


CHAPTER FOURTEEN: FATE HAS SEALED MY DESTINY


Too much, too fast maybe

I don’t know where my destiny’s taking me

So I’ll go wherever it leads me


Madness ~ The Rasmus



Every time Harry was in Defense class, he couldn’t take his eyes off of his bond-mate. He often found his gaze drawn to the slender hands, remembering how they felt over his body. Rumors were flying around the school: from the absolutely absurd (Snape had been out to get him, and therefore cursed him), to the near truth, (they were lovers, and he was merely concerned about him). It was also spreading that Harry was no longer sleeping in Gryffindor tower, but no one seemed to know where he was staying. They were even going so far as to come up and question, something not really popular in this school.


Turning his eyes to look out the window in Transfiguration class, Harry could hear his fellow Gryffindors whispering. Thinking that he was in need of a really good strong drink, he wondered if he could sneak away with going down to the kitchen. As soon as that thought flared, his hand began to sting, as if slapped down on the desk. Wincing he began to massage it, shrugging when Ron questioned him.


As he moved his gaze back to the teacher, Harry caught sight of Pansy Parkinson staring at him. She quickly adverted her eyes, and the boy realized that she was acting a lot like Draco had the first time around, very paranoid. Mistrust rose and Harry vowed to keep a closer watch on her. When class let out, she immediately disappeared, as did Harry, down into the dungeons to check the map. Watching as her footsteps went into the Room of Requirement, the boy knew that his suspicions were confirmed. Harry was surprised by Snape’s sudden presence behind him, having concentrated on Pansy for the last twenty minutes.


“What exactly are you doing here, Potter? Others are missing your presence from lunch,” Snape said, his arms crossed.


Clearing the map, Harry moved to stand in front of his professor. “Why, my dear Sev, I thought we could get in a round of passionate love making before our class together.”


“Why would you assume that I would want to be that close to you? Having you in my head is bad enough.”
“I know what goes on in there,” Harry let his finger trail down Snape’s cheek. “You keep sending me images of me, bent over your desk, or in a broom closet, even in the bath. I’m not the only one who’s having mind control issues.”


Snape hissed at him. “I have no such thoughts. You’re the one who insists on undressing me with your eyes in my class.”


Harry smirked. “Are you trying to seduce me by attempting to speak Parseltongue? My, how naughty of you.”


“Those things should be reserved for someone who can actually speak the language. Perhaps I should contact the Dark Lord for you, so that you may have him hissing at you,” A sneer was on the Potions Master’s face.


“In all honesty, Little Tommy Riddle isn’t attractive to me. You know, the whole, no nose thing kind of turns me off,” Harry laughed mentally.


“Are you going to lunch, or should I assign detention for disobeying Madam Pomfrey’s instructions?” Snape inquired.


“I’m sure you would love to have me under your watch late at night, wicked man,” Harry’s amusement reached Snape long after he’d left him.


“Insolent brat,” Snape retorted.


Later that night, while Harry was studying in the library, he noticed a strange buzzing sound. Spotting a small bug on top of his books, Harry smirked. After changing one of his quills into a glass, with the tiniest of air holes, he brought it down over the bug.


“Well, if it isn’t little Rita Skeeter. Trying to catch your next big story? If you want it, come to the Hog’s Head this Saturday, at noon. You’ll get your story,” With that he lifted the glass and left the library.


The rest of the week passed quickly, Harry warding their small dungeon home against tiny insect invaders. Saturday afternoon saw him bundled against the cold, making the trek up to Aberforth Dumbledore’s tavern. There, already eagerly waiting for him, was Rita, Quick-Quotes Quill at the ready. Sitting across from her, Harry removed his gloves, noticing that she was eyeing him critically.


“Why the sudden interest in giving me an interview, Mr. Potter?” She asked skeptically.


“I don’t see why not. If you ask me a question I’m not willing to share the answer to, this interview will end. Should it go well, you can continue to owl me your questions. If it doesn’t end well, then send me all the owls you want, but I may or may not answer them. It all depends on how I feel that day. You wouldn’t dare print any untruths, now would you?” Harry threatened.


A shake of her head, and Harry signaled for her to start. “Just where did you acquire that scar?”


“Let’s just say that an overzealous wizard took it upon himself to curse me, it is also the reason I cannot speak.”


“Has it hindered with your ability to cast spells?” She asked, her enchanted quill writing it all down.


“It just means that I have to learn to cast nonverbal spells. I do think that I’m coming around quite nicely,” Harry lied.


“Is Dumbledore training you to get ready to fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” Rita asked, greedy for information as usual.


“I don’t speak to the Headmaster much these days, seeing as how I refuse to be a pawn any longer,” Harry twirled his wand, bored.


“Does this mean that you’ve changed sides, that you’ve joined You-Know-Who?” Rita smirked, that would surely make an interesting story.


Harry smiled, “Oh for Merlin’s sake, it’s Voldemort, and no, I have not joined him. I am merely on my own side. I’m sure that everyone believes that Dumbledore is the only one Voldemort feared. But if that was right, then why would he have come to kill an innocent baby? Of course, he could have sent his Death Eaters to kill me by now, but time after time, in the end, the ‘big, bad Voldemort’ always comes to face me in the end, and I’ve always won.”


“So you’re resolute in not joining either side, but instead you’ve decided to make your own. That sounds like you might have plans to become the next Dark Wizard when this is all over.”


“Make no mistake, I will never be like that snake bastard, but I also refuse to be under Dumbledore’s thumb. I know all about the old man’s past, and I don’t intend to be like him either. I will always regret Cedric’s death, but it is in no way my fault that he was killed. I will not sacrifice anyone else just to let them protect me. That meddling old fool has used me long enough. I’m old enough to know what is for the best, not just for myself, but for those around me,” Harry’s anger was growing, fully aware of the owner’s familiar blue eyes on him.


“So what are your plans of attack? What is the secret that makes you so confident?” Rita licked her lips, eager for more.


Harry tried to laugh, “Now, if I told you that, then it wouldn’t be a secret, and I have no doubt that Voldemort gets a copy of the Daily Prophet.”


“True. So there are rumors about you at school, perhaps, like a love interest?” Harry could see the hunger in her eyes.


“Now we end our interview. My private life will remain just that, private. Please contact me if you have any more questions, I will refuse all those that I don’t see relevant to let the public know,” Harry said, motioning for the woman to go.


Once she left, Harry tried to order Firewhiskey from the man with Albus’ identical blue eyes.


“Don’t even think about it, Potter,” Snape’s voice was sharp.


Harry let out a breathy sigh, ordering a Butterbeer instead. Enjoying the rest of his day in the little village, spending time with his friends that he met up with in Zonko’s, it was nearly dark before he returned to Hogwarts. Now alone in his room, Harry checked his map, and sure enough there was Pansy once again hidden in the vanishing room. Remembering what a hard time he’d had locating Draco, he’d asked Remus to add the room, along with the even more secret passageway to the Hog’s head.


Looking at his calendar, he noticed that it was the full moon tonight, but he wouldn’t be seeing Sirius for Animagus training. It was now up to them individually, so they practiced in secret, as Harry did only on the nights he couldn’t fall asleep. Knowing that he still had time before curfew, Harry got up to wander the halls. He found his Head of House, asking to see Dumbledore. Shortly he was seated in the Headmaster’s office, the seemingly all-knowing Professor across from him.


“What brings you here, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, folding his hands together.


“Pansy Parkinson is going to let Death Eaters into the school. She’s been lurking in the Room of Requirement,” Harry stated.


“I see, I thought that we had avoided that unfortunate incident with rescuing Draco Malfoy from Voldemort’s grip,” Dumbledore said.


“It’s Voldemort. He’s going to get the job done through one tool or another. I’d watch your back if I were you,” Harry stared at the case the Gryffindor sword was displayed in.


“True, Tom was always the kind to be persistent. Why are you informing me if there is so much animosity towards me at the moment?” His blue eyes twinkled.


“For the good of the school, Professor, there are innocent lives at stake. Back in my first year, what did you see in the Mirror of Erised?” Harry asked.


Dumbledore smiled faintly. “All the things I’ve regretted, Harry. The things I wish to see can never be brought back.”


Harry nodded. “Make sure if things should go wrong, you have all of your affairs in order. Also, you should look into what will become of your Elder Wand if you should die,” Harry got up to leave, only stopping once he almost out of the door. “You should look into giving Neville some experience with the Gryffindor sword. He’s going to need it.”


As he making his way back to his room, Harry’s left forearm started to sting. Instinctually knowing that it was Snape’s pain, Harry hurried back to their rooms. There, on the other side of the wall, was the dark haired man, preparing to leave.


“He summoned you,” It wasn’t a question.


“Yes. Stay here, I’ll be back,” Snape said, nearly rushing out the door.


Harry grabbed his robes, effectively halting him in his steps. After wrapping a hand around the taller man’s neck, Harry pulled his head down, brushing his warm lips against the cold ones of his professor. Releasing him, Harry let every emotion he was feeling wash over the bond.


“Come back safe,” Harry said, knowing that the older man would be blocking the bond.


Bottomless black eyes searched green ones, before Snape tore them away. He gave a curt not, which made his black hair sway a little, and then he was gone. Sighing, Harry made his way to the infirmary, settling himself in his usual bed. Madam Pomfrey glanced at him before returning her attention to the student in her care. After she sent the crying first year back to their dorm, she turned her attention to Harry.


“What are you doing here, Mr. Potter?” She asked, deciding that it was a good time to check on the progress of his throat.


“Snape was called away by Voldemort. I was just wondering if there were potions he regularly takes after the meetings,” Harry was curious.


“There are a few, but he doesn’t usually come here for them,” She replied, her wand glowing over him.
“But you know what they are?” He inquired.


“Yes,” She listed several, all the while handing them to him.


“Thank you,” Harry said, taking them and paused on his way out.


“I’m glad that there’s someone to look out for him,” Madam Pomfrey called.


“I’m just returning the favor,” Harry flashed her a smile.


Upon returning to their rooms, Harry set the potions down on the living room side table. Settling down on the couch, Harry began to study for his exams, in case they actually took them this year. He barely even noticed when his eyes grew heavy and he slowly slipped into sleep.


When Snape returned to his dungeon home, his entire body ached from the Cruciatus Curse that had been cast on him. On his way to his private potion storeroom he caught sight of a sleeping Harry on his warm brown leather couch. With no strength to lift him, Snape merely took the open book, setting it on a table, where he noticed that several potions seemed to be waiting for him. Nearly smiling, before he realized what he was about to do and brought the scowl back, he covered Harry with the blanket from the back of the couch. Taking only the potions he needed, he swallowed them quickly, hardly noticing the bitter taste.


Moving on, Snape finally reached his bedroom, waiting for the potion to take affect before dropping the ‘invisible’ barrier between him and his younger companion. His mind reflected on what had occurred, and all the things he need to inform the headmaster of the next morning.


When Harry awoke, his eyes instantly fell on the potions. Relief filled him when he saw that a couple of them were empty, meaning that his dominus had returned. Getting up, he stretched his aching body, making a mental note to not fall asleep on the couch too often. Tip-toeing down the hallway, he quietly opened the door to Snape’s room, extremely glad to see the man sleeping peacefully.


After dressing, he left his room and went to the Great Hall for breakfast. When he caught up with Ron’s giddy chatter, Harry remembered that they’d be taking their Apparation lessons today. Before he knew it, it was nearly the time when the Death Eaters would break into Hogwarts, complete with the funeral for Hagrid’s giant spider.



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Preview of Chapter Fifteen: Spell of Emptiness

Snape moved closer. “Most die with regrets, so live like you’re going to die at any moment.”


“Like you do?” Harry’s voice was bitter.


“What is that supposed to mean, Potter?” His tone spoke of danger.


“All of these years and you’ve never found someone else to love. I’m sure my mom wouldn’t want you to live alone. The only reason you’re protecting me is because of her. You feel guilty because you believe that it’s your fault that she died,” Harry finally looked at his teacher, noticing the dark glare.


“Watch yourself, Potter. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Snape threatened.

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Oh no!! Are Snape and Harry falling apart? Will they survive this rift? Find out next time.