Standing Against the Tides

Last time I looked at my driver’s license, it did not say J. K. Rowling. Yep, it’s just me, an unpaid and unknown aspiring writer. The characters of the Potterverse do not belong to me and I am making no money from this endeavor.

A/N: Spoilers through OotP. As I am still in denial, I refuse to acknowledge the events of HBP or DH at this point.

A/N2: I wish to thank all who have taken the time to read and review. It is much appreciated. At this point I will endeavor to update this story every Sunday.

Unbeta’d as BabyGurl is busy with her own life.


Chapter 3 Gaining Understanding

For once Harry worked diligently to finish his schoolwork early. He wanted to make sure he had plenty of time to try to speak to the Potions master this weekend. Harry was under no misconceptions that it would be easy to corner the prickly man and figured it would take some doing to actually convince his professor to speak with him.

Thus it was Saturday afternoon before Harry was able to make his way down to the dungeons. Now that he was firmly in Slytherin territory he made his way carefully through the labyrinth that was the dungeons of Hogwarts. After some time he finally found his way to what he assumed to be the door to the Potions master’s chambers. In preparation for this meeting Harry had spent a bit of time studying the Marauders’ Map before he was satisfied that he understood where his destination was located.

Taking a deep breath, Harry raised his hand to knock firmly on the old wooden door. A few tense moments later found the young Gryffindor sweating as he waited for the Potions master to answer. Just when he had decided another knock was in order, the door was wrenched open.

“Pro…” Harry began.

Scowling at the young man barring his way, Severus Snape snapped, “Not now, Potter. I have a rather pressing engagement.” Sneering the last word, the irritated man continued, “Go bother someone else for once.”

Pushing past his student, Severus Snape hurriedly strode away from a dumb struck Harry. Standing before the now closed door, Harry wondered just what had happened. After several moments, he shook his head and silently made his way back up into the castle proper.


It wasn’t until Harry was once again ensconced in his deep windowsill that he began to understand the significance of what had happened earlier. Suddenly feeling like an idiot and that he should smack his head against the wall a-la-Dobby, Harry went over to his trunk and retrieved the Marauders’ Map. Making sure that he was indeed alone in his dorm room, he opened the map and tapping it with his wand, said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” As the lines appeared and labeled dots began moving about the parchment, Harry searched for one particular person. Years of practice had taught him how to quickly find what he was looking for and Harry was rewarded when the dot signifying ‘Severus Snape’ appeared on the edge of the map. The young man realized that by his position the man had just returned to the grounds of Hogwarts and Harry was somewhat concerned when he saw that the dot was moving rather slowly and sporadically.

Quickly making up his mind, Harry double-checked his professor’s position before wiping the parchment clean. Jumping up and making sure his wand was in hand, Harry ran out the door and out through the Gryffindor common room. Ignoring the questioning looks and startled expressions sent his way; Harry was determined to reach Severus Snape before it was too late. In his rush he never noticed that the willful stairs immediately aligned themselves for his journey or that the Bloody Baron was holding back a bothersome Peeves.

Flying out of the main castle doors, Harry struggled to see in the rapidly dimming daylight. He ran down to where he had last seen the Potions master’s position on the map. Spotting the dark figure, Harry intercepted his professor just as the man collapsed on the ground.

Harry knelt down next to the prone man and as he struggled to catch his breath, noticed several things: the Potions master was having difficulty breathing, he seemed to be holding himself in a protective posture and the smell of blood and something else was unmistakable.

“Sir,” Harry began, “you were summoned, weren’t you?”

Dark eyes looked up into the young face. Too tired and hurt to make his usual scathing retort about that being rather obvious, Severus simply nodded, then winced as the motion aggravated his wounds.

The lack of vitriol in the older man’s countenance worried Harry more than anything else. Snape never let an opportunity pass by without expounding on just what he thought of Harry’s intelligence.

Harry gingerly took hold of his professor’s arm and draped it across his own shoulder. Quietly murmuring reassurances, Harry slowly stood, bringing the older wizard up with him. A soft grunt told Harry that his professor was in pain, but managing to hang in there. “Come, on sir. We need to get you to Madame Pomfrey,” Harry said as they started up the hill toward the castle.

Severus pulled up short, causing the younger man to jostle him. Biting back a groan at the pain, the Potions master ground out, “No, not there. My chambers.”

“But, sir,” Harry pressed. “You need medical attention.”

Catching his student’s gaze, Severus willed the young man to understand. “I have potions; I can’t see Poppy. Please…”

Surprised by the plea, Harry could only nod his acceptance and once again the men slowly walked up to the castle. At the Potions master’s silent urging, Harry swung around to the right and followed the stone wall to a side entrance.

Careful to avoid jostling his companion any more than necessary, Harry pulled out his wand and muttered, “Alohomora.” The rusty lock creaked open and Harry pushed against the door. By now, the young Gryffindor could easily hear Snape’s labored breathing and he was anxious to get the man inside.

Half carrying, half dragging the larger man, Harry uttered a Lumos spell and followed the hand gestures from his professor. Soon Harry found that they were indeed standing outside the very door he had met his teacher earlier that afternoon. “Sir, you are going to have to say the password,” Harry quietly told the man.

Struggling to gain a breath, Severus whispered, “Redemption.”

The pair entered the room and Harry stopped long enough to close the door behind them. Noting that they had entered a sitting room, Harry asked where the bedroom was. Pointing to the right-most door, the Potions master tried to hold back another moan as the pain from his wounds worsened.

With a sigh, Harry gently placed his professor on the large bed. Straightening, Harry turned and ignited a fire in the fireplace with a wave of his wand. Then he flicked up the flames on the candles around the room. Accepting that he would have to personally tend to the irascible Potions master, Harry began collecting the necessary items. Harry noted another door across the room and quickly went over to investigate. Seeing that it did indeed lead to a bathroom, he entered and found a soft flannel as well as several healing potions in the cabinet by the sink.

Carefully holding the various potions, Harry returned to the bedroom to see that the older man was swaying as he sat on the edge of the bed. The young Gryffindor set the supplies down on the bedside table before turning to assist the hurt man. Almost tenderly, Harry helped remove the horrid Death Eater garb the older man wore and began working on removing the stiff robe and the fitted jacket underneath. Once his professor was only clad in his shirt and trousers, Harry helped ease the older man down onto the bed. Satisfied that Snape was as comfortable as possible at the moment, Harry went off in search of a basin so he could clean the man’s wounds.

Double-checking the label of one of the potions he had selected, Harry held Snape’s head so that the man could down the pain potion. Picking up the next vial marked for swelling and contusions, Harry helped the professor drink that too. Yet another vial held a potion designed to heal cuts and abrasions. After administering the potions, Harry moved on to physically cleaning up the wounds.

Cautiously, carefully Harry began gently washing the gashes evident on the Potions master’s stern face. That task finished, Harry paused a minute before unbuttoning the starched white shirt. He couldn’t help but gasp when he spied the vicious gashes across the pale chest.

A sharp intake of breath told Harry that the man’s ribs just might be broken so he waved his wand over the area to confirm the fact. Finding that a couple of ribs were indeed cracked, Harry reached over for the vial of Skele-Gro he had found earlier. Tipping the vial to the still man’s lips, Harry slowly poured the noxious liquid into Snape’s mouth. Remembering his magical first aid course from last year, Harry massaged the slender throat so the man would swallow the potion.

Harry gritted his teeth as he began working on the many cuts and bruises adorning his professor’s chest. Glancing up, he saw that the man was now breathing easier and that his eyes were still closed. That made Harry feel a bit better as he wasn’t sure how he felt about touching the acerbic Potions master in such an intimate fashion.

Returning to the job of cleaning the numerous wounds, Harry was pleased to see that the cuts and bruises were already beginning to heal. Finished with his professor’s chest, Harry paused a moment, trying to figure out how to get the man’s shirt and trousers off without hurting him further. Snorting as he remembered he was a wizard, the young man waved his wand and vanished the clothing.

Harry had to close his eyes when he saw that there was even more damage underneath. Even the man’s legs had been injured during the Death Eater meeting. Sighing, Harry found it remarkable that the man had stayed awake and alert for as long as he had.

Once he had finished with the man’s front side, Harry gently rolled the Potions master over. Rage boiled in the young Gryffindor when he saw the extent of the damage inflicted on his professor’s body. Then his eyes traveled lower still and he began to feel the air swirl around him and his magic crackled and arced as the awful truth of the situation sank in. Someone would pay for this, Harry vowed as he once again set to work cleaning and healing the older wizard.