In the Lurking Darkness

~*~

Harry had awoken feeling uneasy as he did most morning lately. He took the Dreamless Sleep Draught three nights a week and usually stayed awake the other four nights. The Draught worked and allowed him to get enough sleep every other night to keep him rested enough to keep up with his school work. He was definitely looking forward to graduation in two weeks, though.

For the first time since becoming a wizard seven years ago, Harry would not be spending the summer with his Muggle relatives. Finally, he could stay at the only real home he'd ever known. He would spend the summer working with the only professor to have survived two years in the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, Professor Dorado, who was retiring from teaching after summer.

Harry was elated when Professor Dumbledore had made the suggestion. Harry had been planning on becoming an Auror, but his main passion was DADA and didn't even blink before shouting 'YES!' He knew he would also be required to consult with Professor Snape regarding the curriculum, but that was a necessary evil he would just have to get used to.

Harry chatted with his friends as they sat for breakfast. He glanced up at the head table and smiled when he saw the headmaster grinning at him. The smiled faded as Dumbledore caught sight of something that obviously troubled him. He followed the pale blue eyes and nearly fell out of his chair.

Harry watched Snape move gracelessly across the floor and sit heavily in his chair. The man looked paler and more drained than he thought possible. His eyes were prominent in his face from the black circles that surrounded them, and his cheeks were sunk in more than ever.

Throughout the meal, Harry continued to watch Snape. Waiting to see the man drop from exhaustion, but it didn’t happen. Snape stared off into space, his fork moving around the plate in front of him, but never lifted to his mouth. Harry saw the worry clear in Dumbledore’s face as he, too, watched Snape carefully.

Ron grumbled next to him in the Potions classroom just a while after breakfast. Harry had lost all pity for Snape in the first five minutes of class. The man might look like hell, but was certainly feeling well enough to berate Harry in front of the class just because he didn’t chop his newt tails fine enough.

“That man is a bloody bastard!” Ron yelled after they had finally escaped potions for another day. “I hope he’s REALLY sick!”

“Oh, Ron!” Hermione exclaimed. “That’s an awful thing to say! I think he was only trying to keep from passing out.”

Harry had realized anyone else had been paying enough attention to the man to notice how ill he looked.

“Ron’s right, Hermione. Just because he was ill, was no excuse for taking it out on us. WE didn’t make him sick!” Harry was too angry about the thirty house points they had unjustly lost to worry about Snape’s well-being at the moment.

The continued to grumble all the way to their next class. At lunch, Harry glared at Snape as he once again pushed his food around without bringing any of it to his mouth. His glare faded to concern again, however, when he realized the man’s cold black eyes were shinier than usual. It almost looked like the man was going to cry. Harry shook his head slowly. He really didn’t understand Snape at all and probably never would.

After supper, Harry left his friends in the library. He needed to get some fresh air. Studying for his final exams ever, was stressing him. He hated the idea of graduating and his friends not being there with him the coming fall. He was feeling depressed and lonely and they weren’t even gone yet.

He stepped out the main doors into the cool evening air. The days were quite warm, almost too warm to be outside, but the evenings were better. He walked slowly toward the lake, enjoying the light breeze that ruffled his hair, and stopped at the shore line. His green eyes skimmed across the water, admiring the colours of the sunset reflected and the insects dancing over it’s surface.

Harry got the feeling he wasn’t alone and looked around him. To his right, just through some low bushes was a clearing where Harry and his friends often sat talking and studying. There was a large flat rock in the clearing right at the water’s edge where Harry would sit for hours, just staring over the lake. Harry was more than a little shocked to see who was occupying the rock at the moment.

Severus Snape sat cross-legged on it’s smooth surface, facing the lake. Harry could tell, even from a distance, that the man wasn’t seeing any of it. Once again, his eyes were unfocused and glossy. He was really beginning to wonder what was wrong with Snape.

Calling up as much courage as he could muster, Harry made his way to the clearing to attempt to talk to him. As he made his way through the bushes, he caught his sleeve on a branch and heard it rip. He cursed and swore, having ruined a good robe, but Snape didn’t even flinch at the sound. Harry was now standing almost directly beside him, but Snape still didn’t move. He cleared his throat loudly, still nothing.

“Professor?” he asked worriedly, reaching out to touch the man’s shoulder.

Snape gasped suddenly at Harry’s light touch and jumped, falling off the rock and into the water. Harry would have laughed if it had been anyone other than Snape. He dashed into the knee deep water and to try to help the wet teacher to his feet.

“Bloody hell, Potter!” Snape yelled, shaking Harry loose from his arm, along with plenty of water. Harry tried to apologize, but Snape wasn’t listening. “What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me?!”

“I wasn’t sneaking!” Harry yelled back indignantly. He felt the anger rising up in him like a fever. Snape always seemed to do that to him. “I only came to see if you were alright. I can see that you’re as snarky and… and… BASTARDLY as ever! Good night, PROFESSOR!”

Harry turned to storm back to the castle, but was stopped by a cold hand on his wrist. He looked down at the hand that was shaking visibly, though by the cold from the water or anger, Harry wasn’t sure until he looked up into the misty black eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Snape said softly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re a spy, professor. Not paying attention will get you killed,” Harry said just as softly. He was confused, to say the least. Snape had never apologized to him before.

“I know,” he barely whispered as he turned away from Harry, releasing his wrist, and stood shivering. His arms wrapped around himself as he stared over the lake.

Harry started back toward the castle and stopped, dropping his head to his chest with a sigh. He unbuttoned his robe and slipped it off, before turning back to Snape. As he dropped it over the slightly taller, broader, shoulders, he felt Snape jump again.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

Snape looked down and noticed Harry’s robe. “Thank you,” he said, surprising Harry again.

“Come on, we should get back inside. You’ll catch your death of cold out here.”

Snape nodded and followed Harry back to the school. Harry led him to one of the small, well hidden side doors. Once he had closed the door behind them, he turned and looked back at Snape. The hall they had entered into was quite dark, only a dim light shining from around a corner ahead to create shadows.

Snape stood stalk still in the middle of the hall, barely breathing. Harry looked into his face as he came up beside him. He was taken aback by the look of pure terror in the strong wizard’s eyes.

“Professor Snape?” Harry called, trying to get his attention. When that didn’t work, he very lightly touched Snape’s back, wanting to urge him into motion one way or another.

Snape blinked several times when heard Harry’s voice and soft touch on his back, before the fear finally faded away and he was able to look directly at Harry. He nodded curtly and slowly began walking. Harry kept his hand on the small of Snape’s back to guide him forward. He walked Snape through the dim halls until they reached the door of Snape’s private chambers.

Snape waved his hand in front of the door and muttered a password. He was about to step in when he remembered Harry’s robe was still around his damp shoulders. He stopped and slowly pulled it off, admiring the feel of the soft material as it glided through his fingers and into Harry’s waiting hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered again, entering his room and closing the door, leaving Harry standing in the hall.

Harry’s shoulders drooped as he carried his now wet robe back to the dorm, lost in thought. Severus Snape was one of the strongest men he had ever met. It was almost heart-breaking to see him looking so lost. He would have to talk to Dumbledore, see if there was anything he could do to help.

~*~