Daunted Death

“Dobby?”

Crack!

A house-elf appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the common room. It was very late.

Everyone, with their simple lives, except Harry had gone to bed long before.

“Hello, Harry Potter!” squeaked Dobby, “Is there something Dobby can do for you, Sir?”

“Dobby, can you promise me something? Promise that everything I tell and ask you to do will stay secret just between us. You cannot tell anyone, not Ron, Hermione, or Dumbledore, alright?”

“Of course not! Dobby keeps all of Harry Potter’s secrets and is deeply honored Harry Potter trusts Dobby with them.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I want you to keep an eye on Professor Snape--don’t follow him, just check on him every now and then, and do not let anyone see you.... Dobby, I don’t know why I care so much all of a sudden.”

Harry sank down on the end of the couch and zoned out on the floor. Dobby wisely said nothing and sat beside him.

“I really haven’t.... Most sixteen year old boys are worried about girls and... and sex, but I have never really thought about it all that much. The Yule Ball was as far as I got. I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about it and wondered what if felt like, but I... especially since when I even start to go in that area all I can think about is Ginny, and I hate that! Her brother is my best mate! Fred, George, Charley, and Bill, they’re all my friends! I know they won’t--I don’t know--treat me different if I was more off-kilter than I already am, but to have any kind of a thing for their sister? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have been my parents for years! They actually love me. They took me in and gave me a family. How awful would it be to betray then like that?”

Harry pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, crunching his eyes shut.

“But she’s too amazing to not end up with a guy at some point. It would be good if it was me, right? Other guys--Ginny’s tough but some men are so horrible.... I would never hurt her or... or force her. I couldn’t! Do they think I would do that? Never, ever.... I’m not like him.... I--I’m not the one that did all of that to him. I didn’t want to touch him--I didn’t like it! God, it’s so scary. Now all I think about is sex, about what I did to him.... What if I really did want to? What if something’s wrong, and I’m this horrible person? What if I really would hurt Ginny? I don’t know what to do!”

Harry covered his tear shinning face as he fell silent. Dobby patted his arm for a minute, then forced himself into Harry lap.

“Dobby is not a smart house-elf, and he has no idea what you are talking about, but he does know, Sir, that Harry Potter would never hurt anyone, especially his friends. He is nice and great, and there is nothing wrong with Harry Potter. Dobby would bet his life on it.”

Harry blinked, then gave Dobby a small smile and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Thank you.... I’m sorry I dumped all this on you.”

“Not at all, Harry Potter! Dobby is glad to know, and he will die before he will tell anyone Harry Potter’s secrets!”

“Thanks.... You should get some rest. It’s really late.”

“Goodnight, Harry Potter!”

“’night, Dobby.”

With another crack! The elf was gone.

Harry didn’t go up to the dorms. He curled up on the end of the couch. Dobby just letting him spill his guts like that eased the tightness in his whole body, if just so he could get one nights sound sleep. He’d have to buy Dobby more socks.

~

The next morning Dobby left Harry a note on his bedside table.

Dear Harry Potter,
Mr. Professor Snape did nothing bad today. Dobby does not think he knows Dobby is watching. Dobby hopes Harry Potter is doing good.

Your Life Servant,

Dobby

With a relieved sigh, Harry tucked it away, intending to throw it in the common room fire after Dobby’s second note arrived in the morning.

Potions’ class was exactly the same. Snape’s movements were stiff when he thought no one was looking or really couldn’t help it. He ignored Harry completely again, but he ignored Draco as well. Most people didn’t think twice or even once about it, but it was really eating at Harry knowing what happened and what will inevitably happen again.

Harry had no word from Dumbledore or Snape, not that he expected one from him, and each night and morning Dobby left a note, and Harry burned it.

Then Dobby didn’t come. Harry stared at the ceiling, dreading what had happened. His scar kept burning, a happy, enjoyment burn. Harry almost started to cry at the thought.

Crack!

“Dobby!”

“Get up, Harry Potter! The Professor sir needs help!”

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Harry asked urgently as he began tearing from his bed.

“He won’t stop bleeding! Dobby tried to stop it, but it is getting everywhere!”

“Where is he?”

“Under the Grand Staircase. There is a secret door Dobby left open for Harry Potter.”

“Tell Dumbledore!” Harry commanded as he completely pelted from the room and dashed down staircase after staircase as fast as his horribly hurting chest would let him. Sure enough, when he rounded the corner large stones had been moved out to reveal a passage that sounded like heavy breathing.

Upon entering Harry almost stopped. The blood was unbelievable! Later he would find a rather large, rather empty bottle of blood replenishing potion. The floor was so thick with blood Harry hardly left footprints in it. The walls were smeared heavily, and Snape himself, down to his pants, was covered and soaked, his pants shinning as though metallic.

Harry swiftly went to Snape’s side, kneeling a large puddle of blood. He was at a total loss of what to do.

“Professor?” he asked hesitantly, “Can you hear me?”

No answer.

“Please, Professor, say something!”

“Harry...--”

“Yes, yes, I’m right here.”

“Dumble...--”

“He’s coming. You’re gonna be fine. You’ll be alright.”

Harry knew his voice sounded desperate and feeble. He kept glancing back at the door, praying Dumbledore would come running with a miraculous cure-all, like he always did. In a desperate attempt to try to give some reassurance he set his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed a little, taking that arm.

Harry whispered, “It’s okay.”

Snape’s eyes opened slightly. The look was so heart breaking Harry moved closer and pulled the dying man into his arms. It gave him a shock when Snape rested his head on Harry shoulder, but then he shifted his body and began to use his weight to push away. Harry tried to hold him down.

“Don’t move. Stay until Dumbledore gets here.”

Snape continued to struggle. Harry realized he was not trying to get away but attempting to use him as an anchor to shift his weight. It dawned on Harry that it probably would be wise to get the weight off his most-likely swollen opening. Harry shifted to place Snape’s arms around his neck and turn him so that Snape’s weight was on the front of his hip, a bruised hip, but it was much less painful. Harry held him awkwardly, still slightly surprised Snape was, even now, so close.

“You’ll be fine. We’ll get you to your room, and you can sleep it off. It’ll be fine.”

Harry continuously uttered what he hoped were reassurances, making seem like it wasn’t all that bad, but he knew Snape was too smart to not know he was minutes if not seconds form death. He just hoped Snape also had sense enough to try to forget it.

Suddenly Dobby appeared.

“The Headmaster is coming, Harry Potter. He should be here now.”

Before the words even left the elf’s mouth footsteps were rushing, getting louder and louder.

They hear a voice command, “Filch, leave. This is a matter of mine.”

Without pausing Dumbledore ducked into the passage and went down to them on the floor. With just cuts and scrapes and bite marks seen under the blood on the exposed skin, Dumbledore began to tear down Snape’s pants.
Harry gasped and hid his face in his teacher’s arm. Just about all the skin on Snape’s legs had been pealed or skinned off completely. Harry heard mumbling and felt Snape twitch or squeeze tighter around Harry’s neck.

“Shhhh, shhhhhh,” Harry hissed low under his breath, knowing he could never comprehend all the physical agony Snape was going through.

Dumbledore barked commands at Dobby, but Harry didn’t hear. Dumbledore moved Snape’s face to give him potion after potion. It took Harry a bit, but he realized they had been under there way longer than Snape would have been alive before, so whatever Dumbledore was doing was working. Snape would really be okay!

After almost two hours Snape was back on the conjured stretcher on the way to his rooms, completely unconscious. Harry tucked the blanket in around the man after he was placed in his bed.

“Professor, I would like to stay,” said Harry timidly.

“Harry, why do you feel so attached to Severus all of a sudden?” the old man asked.

Hesitating at first, Harry confessed.

“I don’t want to be like Voldemort. I know what it feels like to hurt people so badly... and--and like it.... I feel like I had something to do with it, and I want to make it better.”

“You had nothing to do with what was done to Professor Snape. You are simply caught in the crossfire.”

“Please, can I stay? I know he’ll yell at me to leave, and I won’t tell anyone.”

Dumbledore regarded him sadly and nodded, then said, “If you promise to not go snooping in places you know you should not.”

Harry eagerly went back to Snape’s bedroom. He looked around. It was quiet and empty and dark; Harry felt so sorry for him. Was he always so alone? No, Lucius Malfoy had been there for him, but when? Lucius couldn’t be there when Snape was forced to torture, kill, and rape. Definitely not. Lucius enjoyed that. As much as Harry hated to admit it, Dumbledore probably wasn’t 'there' for him either. All he seemed to care about was information and that Snape not die on his watch, but anywhere else was fine.

Harry took a chance and conjured his first chair from thin air. It worked but hit the ground with an extremely loud clatter. He flinched and looked over at Snape’s, thankfully, still sleeping form tucked into all the blankets.

Harry sat down, thinking that a week ago he hated Snape, hated to even think about him, but now he wanted constant watch on him, didn’t want anything at all done to him. The awful things Snape had said and done to him in the past were still there, but they seemed so distant and unimportant. So was the berating he knew he was going to get when Snape woke up.

The rest of the night crept by. Every time Harry drifted into an uncomfortable sleep his stomach woke him up. He tried his best to fall asleep, but it just didn’t happen.

Crack!

Harry nearly hit the ceiling.

“Harry Potter should go to class or he will be late.”

“Dobby, I’m not going to go,” Harry told him weakly, “I’m not leaving until I know he’s fine and find out why he insists on doing these suicide missions. He’s going to die if he keeps this up.”

Dobby blinked. “Sir, whats if he wants to die?”

Harry looked at him. He hadn’t thought about that.

“Please, go, Dobby.”

“Yes, Harry Potter, good day.”

The elf bowed low and vanished, sill making Harry jump even though he knew it was coming.