Light on the Dark Side of Me

Title: Light on the Dark Side of Me
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
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Light on the Dark Side of Me
Chapter 25: I promise you that you’re safe

(Day 4)

Looking worse than ever the next morning, Snape walked in gingerly holding the gift Harry had given him for Christmas. It was an extremely rare edition of Wladeslaw Renkewicz’s treatise, Potions in the Modern Age. Renkewicz had influenced and taught nearly all the most prominent Potions Masters living today, including Snape’s own Masters instructor Frederick Nutzen. Snape could barely breathe when he had opened the box.

“Look Potter…I’m not very good at these sorts of things. I just wanted to say…you shouldn’t have wasted your money on me.”

“You’re right,” Harry said. And then added with a grin, “You’re not very good at this.”

“Perhaps…” Snape began uncertainly, “perhaps you should let me buy it from you.”

“That wouldn’t make it a gift now would it?” Harry asked, delighted with Snape’s discomfort. Finally, Harry thought, at least I can unbalance the man by buying him expensive gifts! “I want you to keep it. That’s why I bought it for you.”

Snape thought for a moment, looked down at the book and looked up at Harry. How in the world did he know to get this for me? And how did he find it? Putting those thoughts aside, he said sincerely, “It is extremely generous and…and thank you.”

***


(Day 5)

As Harry ate his breakfast, he studied the man seated across from him very carefully. Snape was wearing a dark green wool bathrobe over his grey nightshirt and was reading his newest potions journal. Harry thought it was some sort of strange progress that Snape finally felt comfortable enough to emerge from his bedroom in something other than his formal robes covering him from head to toe. But since they were living together for the time being, Harry mused that that might have just been resignation on Snape’s part.

The man looked horrible again – the dark circles under his eyes were clearly worse. He seemed exhausted all the time. Although he was drinking tea, his breakfast remained untouched and Harry knew that he had taken barely more than a few bites at dinner last night. With the exception of yesterday’s short conversation, in which Snape had thanked Harry for his gift, the pair hadn’t had a single conversation since Harry had arrived in the dungeons four days ago. Harry decided that that was about to change.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, Severus,” Harry began boldly.

Snape looked up with a fierce glare and snapped, “What did you just call me?”

“Severus. I called you Severus. That is your name.”

“Listen Potter—”

Harry cut him off. “If I’m going to be stuck with you here, I’m calling you whatever I want. This isn’t exactly the standard professor-student relationship. The last time I checked, when a student is locked up with a professor for the Holidays with the express purpose of the two trying to get along, then they should be allowed to call each other by their first names. It would be nice if you could call me Harry, but I’ll assume that that’s too difficult for you,” Harry said with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

Snape couldn’t help but smirk at Harry’s words. He could tell the boy was quaking in his disheveled pajamas even as he tried to be forceful.

“Your attempts at sarcasm are equal to your Potions skills, Potter,” Snape drawled mockingly, folding his arms across his chest and casting his penetrating gaze on the boy.

Harry felt his heart speed up a bit – he hated the way Snape could so easily intimidate him – the fact that he was able to do so dressed only in his bathrobe made his fear all the more pathetic.

Harry did his best to mask his anxiety, albeit unsuccessfully as his voice betrayed his uncertainty as he spoke, “Just tell me something. Are you okay? You don’t seem to be eating. You certainly don’t look like you’re sleeping. Are you having nightmares?” Harry asked tactfully, thinking it best not to reveal he had disabled Severus’s silencing charm.

“What business is it of yours, Potter? You’re my roommate,” Snape spat at the word, “not my keeper.”

“I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

“Well, you may stop worrying. It is none of your concern. You worry about yourself and I shall do the same.” Snape stood up, “Lessons in one hour,” he said and walked into his bedroom to get dressed.

***


(Day 6)

Snape woke up the next morning feeling more rested than he had in weeks. He had allowed himself the luxury of taking his own Dreamless Sleep Draught last night. Snape had completely reformulated the potion, devising one with significantly greater potency. The original, after all, was all but ineffective given the frequency with which he had once used it – one of the many consequences of being a Death Eater. Snape was still, however, working on eliminating the addictive properties of this improved version of the potion, and until he could do so, he could only chance to take it once a week.

Snape began making his way into his sitting room dressed only in his nightshirt, when he remembered that he was no longer alone and could not roam his quarters half-naked. Sighing in frustration, he moved towards his wardrobe and threw on his wool robe. As he did so, he couldn’t help thinking about the unpleasant predicament he was in. Here he was, less than half way through his forced captivity with Harry. The boy was making his life more miserable than it normally was. And it was all because of Albus Dumbledore. He really can be the most insufferable old coot at times! As Snape mused on how he would get Albus back for this ridiculous plot of his, Snape strode into the sitting room to find none other than the Headmaster himself seated on the coach next to Harry.

“What are you doing here?” Snape snapped.

Dumbledore smiled and replied, “Good morning. It’s nice to see you too, Severus.”

“My apologies, Headmaster,” Snape began in a flustered tone, clearly embarrassed by his remark. “I was…surprised to see you here. Please tell me you come bearing good news.”

“Good news?” Dumbledore queried.

“Yes. Perhaps there is an urgent Potions crisis in Siberia that requires me to leave immediately. Or perhaps – although I confess it is less likely – you have come to your senses and have decided to release me from this charade.”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “No, I’m afraid I have no news you would deem good then, Severus. I am here because Harry invited me for breakfast.”

“Really?” Snape replied in a surprised tone, turning his attentions to Harry. “Why did you do that, Potter? Have you finally wizened up and called the Headmaster down in a desperate attempt for freedom?” Snape mocked.

Harry replied, “No, but if you continue to be as nasty as you have been, Severus, I might just swallow my pride and beg the Headmaster to let me out.”

Snape looked annoyed as Dumbledore all but beamed at Harry’s newly forming assertiveness with the man.

“Well I see you two are getting on better,” Dumbledore said, his eyes positively sparkling now. “How are things going?”

“Hmpff!” Snape snorted.

“Well, sir, we haven’t killed each other,” Harry said.

“Yet!” Snape added, and moved over to his desk where he began perusing the newest issue of Proceedings of the National Academy of Potions.

Dumbledore looked intently at Harry – giving him the opportunity to speak. Harry was glad for the eye contact. He’s not really speaking with me, Professor, unless you count his insulting me during my lessons.

Dumbledore beamed with pride at Harry’s ability to convey his thoughts, a large smile creeping onto his face, “Well done, Harry! I’m so pleased to see you’re making progress.”

Snape’s head shot up, aware that he had missed something.

Dumbledore looked up at Snape and spoke, his eyes twinkling, “Compliments to a great teacher, no doubt.”

Snape looked very irritated.

Dumbledore turned his gaze back to Harry, “Have you learned how to direct your thoughts yet, Harry? To send them to someone – me, let’s say – and block out another – Severus, for example.”

Aware that Severus was trying to intercept his thoughts, Harry took a deep breath and concentrated. Severus, I was messing around in your workroom last night while you were sleeping.

No response came from Snape.

Dumbledore began laughing, clapping his hands together with glee, “Nicely done, Harry! That most certainly would have gotten his attention.” Dumbledore glanced at Snape who by now was seething.

Harry felt Dumbledore’s mind nudge his, and he heard Dumbledore’s voice clearly in his mind. Harry, tell me how Severus is doing.

Harry was grateful for the strong connection that Dumbledore had forged between them – this was not easy for him and there was something important he needed to say.

He’s not well, Professor. He seems sick – this is the best he’s looked in days. He barely eats at all. And he doesn’t really sleep either. He has horrible nightmares. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but…he doesn’t want to talk to me. Harry stopped, not knowing what else to say.

Dumbledore’s face was very serious now. He spoke directly to Harry again. Harry, do you remember what I told you in my office during reading period? I told you that there is a time for patience, a time to wait.

Harry understood. Dumbledore was telling him not to force the issue. Harry reluctantly said, I know, sir.

But Dumbledore continued, Harry, that time has long passed. Now is the time for action. You need to talk to him and convince him to talk to you. Do not let him turn you away. You only have a few days, Harry. I hope you can make the most of them, my boy.

“Yes sir,” Harry said, simultaneously burdened and relieved by Dumbledore’s advice.

Snape interrupted, “Are you two quite through being rude?”

“Yes of course, Severus,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling maddeningly. “Now come over here and eat breakfast with us. You are looking rather thin, my dear boy.”

***


Later that evening, Harry watched as Snape carefully levitated the gold cauldron he’d been hovering over most of the day from his workroom onto his desk in the sitting room, apparently so that he could keep a closer eye on it. Harry had not shared a word with him since breakfast, and he decided to heed Dumbledore’s advice head on and just try talking to him. Not knowing what to say, he chose something seemingly innocuous.

“What is that you’re working on?” Harry asked, inclining his head towards the cauldron.

Snape lifted his head slowly from his reading and gave Harry a long appraising look, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Is boredom the culprit for your inane attempts to spark conversation between us? Because I doubt very much that you have taken up a sudden interest in potions.”

The question caught Harry off guard for a moment, but he responded with a slight smile. “You got me. I’m bored. But it’s also just weird sitting here all day with you and not talking.”

Snape said nothing, and returned his eyes to his book.

A few minutes later, Harry tried again, asking something that had been on his mind all day, but as nonchalantly as he could manage, “You look better rested today, Severus. Did you finally get some sleep?”

“I thought we had a conversation about how that’s none of your business, Potter,” Snape replied.

“I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“Why? Are you perhaps looking for something better than that crap you’ve been taking?” Snape asked, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Harry was momentarily taken aback, but responded, “How did you know?”

Snape huffed, “I’m a Potions Master and a spy, Potter…I know everything.”

“So you don’t take Dreamless Sleep Draught then?”

“That hasn’t worked for me in ages,” Snape said and promptly returned back to his reading.

“Oh,” Harry said, understanding.

Snape raised his head once more, and added in a helpful afterthought, “If you are taking it, Potter, be sure to restrict yourself to no more than 3 doses per week.”

Harry gave a sheepish look.

“I take it you’ve been foolish enough to exceed that?” Snape asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you should not take anymore for at least a week. How long have you been taking it?” Snape asked curiously.

“Hmm…the past 6 nights,” Harry admitted and became suddenly flushed at his admission.

Snape masterfully hid his own discomfort at the honesty of Harry’s answer and said, “If you fare badly over the next few nights, I can give you something for withdrawal. But you should try without it first.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Harry and Snape sat staring at each other for a long awkward moment. The silence between them was decidedly uncomfortable.

Snape interrupted with a loud annoyed voice, speaking almost to himself. “This situation is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’ve let myself be subjected to Albus’s crazy whims. What precisely is he trying to accomplish from this arrangement?”

“I think he wanted us to stop fighting. So that we can continue my lessons civilly.”

“We can do that now, Potter.”

“Really?” Harry asked disbelievingly. “The last time I asked you to continue my lessons you cast two Unforgivables on me!”

“Don’t be so harsh,” Snape scoffed. “At least I didn’t use the third one,” Snape said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

Harry was stunned, “Are you joking with me?”

A faint, but definite grin had now appeared on Snape’s face. “Perhaps. Did you think me incapable of that, Potter?”

Harry started to chuckle and decided to take advantage of the levity of the moment by introducing a more serious topic. “Listen, I was wondering if maybe later we could talk.”

“Talk?” Snape said harshly, as if he was uttering a dirty word.

“Yes, talk.”

“About?”

“About…” Harry said hesitantly, “…about…what happened.”

Snape stiffened sharply in his chair, and said immediately, “I don’t think so.”

“We can’t keep pretending nothing happened, Severus.”

“Yes we can, Potter.”

“Call me Harry.”

“I think it’s time for bed. It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning,” Snape said, and swept into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Frustrated by his lack of progress, Harry prepared the couch for sleep.

***


Snape put his book down. He’d been trying to fall asleep for hours now. It was quite late, or early, depending on how you looked at it. Insomnia or nightmares – sometimes he didn’t know which was worse. Throwing on his robe he made his way silently into the sitting room to retrieve his bottle of scotch. As he turned to make his way back to the bedroom he spied Harry on the couch, tossing and turning quite violently, his mouth opening and closing as though he were speaking, although the room was completely quiet.

Snape made his way over towards the hearth and as he stepped past the barrier of the silencing charm, suddenly Harry’s screams filled his ears, “Stop it please…stop!” He moved quickly to wake the boy, shaking his shoulders forcefully. Harry’s eyes snapped open and noticed Snape’s hovering form; he shouted, “Don’t touch me…get away from me…” and began pounding his fists against the man’s chest.

Unsure if Harry was awake, Snape snapped sharply, “Potter. It’s me. You’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

And then their eyes locked. Harry shrunk back in fear as those black eyes fixed unwaveringly on him.

Snape eyes quickly filled with surprise and then sorrow and shame as he recognized Harry’s unmistakable fear. He took three rapid steps back.

“I’ll…I’ll leave you alone,” Snape whispered hesitantly and began swiftly making his way back to the bedroom.

Harry stifled his sobs and fought hard to control his emotions. Snape was moving away from him – it was simultaneously relieving and frightening. Harry wasn’t sure which he felt more, just that he knew he didn’t want to be alone in that moment.

“Please don’t leave me,” Harry managed through a choked sob.

Snape stopped dead in his tracks and remained motionless for a long moment, apparently considering Harry’s words carefully. A second later he walked to the other side of the room, retrieved a vial and presented it to Harry.

“Drink this. It’s a calming draught.”

Harry drank the potion down without a second thought, and spoke again, “Will you stay with me? Please.”

Snape paused only for a moment and then nodded. Using his wand, he moved his armchair adjacent to the couch on which Harry lay and sat down next to him. Snape kept his eyes fixed straight ahead – he could not bear to look at Harry, to see that fearful look in his eyes again. Tentatively, he offered his hand to the young man, who grabbed it like it was a lifeline, placing it on his chest and holding it with both his arms.

“Go to sleep now. You’re safe…” Snape said, fighting hard to keep his voice steady. “I promise you that you’re safe.”

Snape was still carefully avoiding Harry’s gaze. He felt ridiculous sitting there next to him – speaking even more ridiculous promises to the boy. Like shoving someone to the floor and then helping them back up – one should not expect a thank you, but a slap in the face. He had done this and no words could undo it. Words like ‘promise’ and ‘safe’ – what could they possibly mean to Harry now?

As Harry lay there, the calming draught coursing through his veins, and Snape’s warm hand planted on his chest, he found it strangely easy to forget his nightmare. Severus was close by, and he would keep him safe.

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A/N: Thanks everyone for the reviews. So glad there are people out there reading and enjoying this fic

Looking forward to your comments on this one......
(as always)