Afraid to Live, Afraid to Die
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
16,530
Reviews:
33
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
16,530
Reviews:
33
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Six: Poisoned Your Mind
**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
This is the 6th out of 35 chapters, check back next weekend for the next chapter!!
CHAPTER SIX: POISONED YOUR MIND
They say that I must kill
Before I can feel safe
But I’d rather kill myself
Than turn into their slave
In the Shadows ~ The Rasmus
Once the train had reached their final destination, Harry stood, looking at the thestrals, letting his memories of them fill his mind. Reaching out a hand, he let one sniff him, before petting the horse-like creature. Luna stood beside him, watching him pet the supposedly bad-omen thestrals.
“Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione asked, eyeing him strangely.
He merely turned his gaze towards her and smiled.
“The creatures have been there since my first day here,” Luna said, swaying to an invisible tune.
The group climbed into the carriage and began the trip; the others talking around him, like the last two weeks had been filled with. Once inside the warmth of the Great Hall, Harry sat at the table, his friends surrounding him. Seamus, of course, glared at him, believing the lies the Prophet wrote about all summer. As the Sorting started after the long song, Harry’s mind drifted, until finally the sound of Umbridge’s voice brought him out of them.
“-ain, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged for our tired and tested traditions often require no tinkering…” Her voice became softer to Harry as he noticed her magical aura.
It was dangerously close to being dark, but that didn’t really surprise him with as close as she had come to using one of the Unforgivable Curses on him. Harry’s thoughts turned, remembering the people he saw dead. Hagrid’s large body laying in a crumpled heap on the grass. Fred, unmoving at his mother’s feet. George’s skin, glowing green, before falling to the ground. The agonizing look upon Mr. Weasley’s face as his wife fell. Snape’s hand reaching out towards him as the man’s chest slowed.
A flash of black, and the sound that had not been there in the battle brought him back. Harry’s eyes focused, and he heard several people clapping half-heartedly. Ron and Hermione were looking intently at him, worriedly. Waving them off, he gave them a sad smile. When he noticed that they had been dismissed, Harry stood quickly, pushing his way through the throng of students, completely unaware of dark eyes watching him.
Not wanting to return to the Gryffindor tower just yet, Harry went to the library. He spent the next hour there, looking through the restricted books, with Madam Pince’s approval. Finally, he closed the book he’d been reading, his eyes tired and knowing he would have to return eventually. Upon reaching the Fat Lady’s portrait he paused, knowing he couldn’t speak the password.
“Go on in, dearie. Dumbledore has asked me to let you in for now,” She said, sympathetically.
On the other side of the portrait waited Seamus, obviously intent on confronting him tonight, so he could get on with ignoring Harry.
“Me mam didn’t want me to come back,” Seamus said.
Harry didn’t say anything, just nodded his head in understanding.
“I suppose it’s because of you,” Seamus said again, his eyes avoiding Harry’s. “Well, she…er…well, it’s not just you, it’s Dumbledore too…”
Harry didn’t bother to show he acknowledged the phrase.
Seamus said, “Look…what did happen that night when…you know…with Cedric Diggory and all?”
Harry pulled out his necessary writing tools: “Look, I don’t want to talk about Cedric right now, it’s too soon. If you and your mother want to believe the Prophet that is totally your business. Tell me though, wouldn’t it be safer to believe something evil may be out there so you can prepare yourselves, rather than listen to something that says it’s all a lie and possibly end up hurt or dead.”
Seamus sputtered when the words ended on the paper. “I suppose…why aren’t you speaking?”
Harry took the paper back. “Something evil left this scar on my face. The spell has made me mute. Just because you don’t believe that it’s Voldemort doesn’t mean there isn’t someone just as evil, or possibly worse. Be prepared, the war is coming, evil could win.”
With that he exited the tower, wandering aimlessly. Harry wasn’t even aware when he made his way into the kitchen. As usual the house elves swarmed him, and he waved them off. Sitting down in the chair next to the fire, he realized something was different. The chair was not worn, or with the comfortable indent he had left over the years. One thing was the same, Winky sat on a wooden stool, crying and drinking. Picking up an unopened bottle, he popped the lid off, almost inhaling the first alcohol he’d had in the last two weeks.
Five bottles later, bringing his total count to six, a dark figure blocked the light of the fire. Mismatched eyes trailed up the black form, only lingering around the section where slender hips should be; yet they were obstructed by a black fabric. When Harry was finally looking at the glowering face he smiled, drunkenly.
Harry waved his half-empty bottle of liquor, the fluid sloshing in the container, inviting Snape to join him. The dark man’s scowl deepened and he yanked the bottle from the waving hand, tossing it into the fire. Enchanted, the boy watched the now blue flames. He tried to giggle, and then frowned when no sound came out. Snape took a hold of his arm, hauling him to unsteady feet.
When the boy swayed with the spinning of the room, Snape lifted him into his arms, leaving the kitchen. Harry put his cheek against the radiating heat of the professor’s chest, snaking his arms around Snape’s neck, one hand curling in the hair at the back of ‘his’, supposedly greasy, potions master’s head.
Relishing the steady heartbeat under his ear, Harry closed his eyes, not even realizing when he slipped into the realm of sleepy oblivion.
Harry woke, covered in sweat, his head pounding, not because of the after affects of the alcohol, but from the nightmare he just had. The nightmare had been about Cedric’s death. One that he had not had in a long time. Unsure of whether it was because he was so close to the time of Cedric’s death or if seeing the people he thought were gone forever, that were now alive had affected him. Perhaps the grief from the war was merely too great, overshadowing the guilt of Cedric.
Sitting up, Harry realized that he was in an unfamiliar room, placed on a comfy black couch. Looking up, he saw Snape, sleeping in an armchair across from him. Obviously this was Snape’s personal chambers, and Harry blushed. Standing, he did the only thing to help his pounding head. The first room he came across in the dungeon home was a potion lab. Quickly closing the door, he moved down the hallway.
When he found a bedroom decorated in dark grays and green, he noticed a bathroom off to the left in the room. After making his way over to it, closing and locking the door behind him, he stripped off his clothes. After a warm shower, Harry magicked his clothes clean, and towel-dried his nearly shoulder length hair, wrapping the towel around his waist. It was actually the first time he had looked at himself in the mirror since Ron’s death.
His hair, which had been nearly to his mid-back, based off of what he could see without a mirror in those times, now barely brushed his shoulders. The strange eyes still looked the same, and the scar glimmered pale against the youthful tan he had in this younger body. Behind the eyes, Harry could see the pain he had suffered, bottled up inside. Dark circles lined his eyes, making the pale one seem almost colorless. The white of his eyes were bloodshot, from not getting enough sleep. If he was honest with himself, then Harry would admit that he might just scare off Voldemort with his looks. He sighed, the only sound was his breath escaping his body.
Moving away from his broken image, he pulled on his clothes, determined not to look at the rest, now knowing what his face looked like scared him away. As he was pulling on his shoes, the eyes he used to love, because everyone said they looked like his mother’s, caught sight of a black rubber band. Picking it up, he arranged his hair, his now straight hair into a low ponytail at the back of his head.
Returning to the sitting area, Harry scribbled a note and left the dungeons, recording where the entrance was in his mind. Harry noticed that only a few students were out, so it meant that it was probably just passed the morning bell. After making his way to the library, and gaining permission from Madam Pince, he wandered the restricted section, using his magical eye to find books that had not been in the library when they were confined.
Almost instantly he caught sight of a bright blue one, sitting next to the book they had found on time travel. Knowing the book hadn’t been there, he checked it for spells or curses. Finding none, he took it down from the shelf, running his hands over it. “Spells of Binding,” the title read, and Harry sat down to read.
When he was halfway through the book, mostly just looking at the titles of each spell. Harry saw Snape’s light grey aura out of the corner of his eye. Looking up from the book, he saw the professor glaring at him, black-clad arms folded over his chest.
“Mr. Potter, the minute you return to school you get drunk. Has the last two weeks been hell without your ‘delirious’ fix?” Snape derided.
Harry said nothing, of course.
“Your things will be moved out of Gryffindor tower and down into my spare bedroom. You will come back each night after dinner, and you will only be allowed to leave if your friends come to pick you up. Now, it’s time for breakfast, don’t be late,” The angry teacher left him.
Harry blinked once. Twice, before moving. Taking the book up to the desk, questioning with his eyes if he could check it out. She seemed unable to resist, and swiftly sent him off to breakfast. Upon reaching his friends in the Great Hall, Harry sank in between them. Ron had brought him his bag, and Harry hoped his best mate didn’t forget anything. Hermione had picked up his schedule, not that he needed it.
Once Harry started picking at his food, his snowy owl landed in front of him. Running his fingers through her feathers and giving her a large piece of his bacon, she took off after leaving the letter. It was closed with the official seal of the Ministry and Harry hesitated to open it. With encouragement from his friends, he broke the wax.
“To Mr. Harry James Potter,
Our condolences on the loss of your ability to speak. We, the Ministry, hereby approve your use of the Exscribo* spell at anytime, even outside of school. Feel free to contact the Ministry should you encounter any problems.
Sincerely,
Cornelius Fudge
Minister Of Magic”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Hermione sighed.
“Good job, mate. Now Umbridge won’t be able to argue this,” Ron said, full knowing how horrible she was from Harry’s stories of her over the last two weeks.
Harry nodded, but wondered why the Minister was doing this for him. Surely it was just a ploy to get him to leave Dumbledore’s side and join the Ministry’s voice of the headmaster’s lies. Well, if Fudge wanted to play the game, then Harry would take full advantage of it.
*Exscribo – To write out
______________________
Reviews
Inugrl2004: This story gets updated every weekend, just check back by Sunday at the latest. It's okay if you think you're terrible at writing reviews, I still like to get them. ^^
DTDY: Thank you for the compliment, and the review.
Tina109: I'm so glad that you like it. I will complete it, even if it takes me forever. I've only got up to Chapter Eight finished. Need to get moving.
Aunjel18: Love? That's a big word for only six chapters, but I hope I don't disappoint you.^^
jljaina: I had this idea like forever ago, and started to work on it, but I kinda started pretty much where he's drunk and gets sent back in time. Plus the fact has changed that I made him lose the war, in the original they won, didn't seem nearly dramatic enough so I changed it. Well, as for what Snape'll do with the new mature Harry, I guess we'll all find out! ^^
___________________
Preview of Chapter Seven: Secrets Within
That night he slept, without having a nightmare. He awoke to Snape’s voice.
“Wake up Potter, and come to the lab,” Snape’s voice didn’t sound very muffled through the door.
Doing what he was told, he joined his teacher, still clad in his pajamas. Without warning Snape grabbed Harry’s hand, pricking his finger, and letting the blood drip into the potion. Then he did the same to himself. Harry wrinkled his nose, remembering the Polyjuice Potion back in 2nd year.
Snape poured them two cups, handing one to Harry. The potions master downed his cup, motioning for Harry to do the same. Once their cups were empty Snape spoke:
“Cognationis, revinctum mentis
Conserui pectoris eduro aetas.*”
Italics - Harry's writing
This is the 6th out of 35 chapters, check back next weekend for the next chapter!!
CHAPTER SIX: POISONED YOUR MIND
They say that I must kill
Before I can feel safe
But I’d rather kill myself
Than turn into their slave
In the Shadows ~ The Rasmus
Once the train had reached their final destination, Harry stood, looking at the thestrals, letting his memories of them fill his mind. Reaching out a hand, he let one sniff him, before petting the horse-like creature. Luna stood beside him, watching him pet the supposedly bad-omen thestrals.
“Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione asked, eyeing him strangely.
He merely turned his gaze towards her and smiled.
“The creatures have been there since my first day here,” Luna said, swaying to an invisible tune.
The group climbed into the carriage and began the trip; the others talking around him, like the last two weeks had been filled with. Once inside the warmth of the Great Hall, Harry sat at the table, his friends surrounding him. Seamus, of course, glared at him, believing the lies the Prophet wrote about all summer. As the Sorting started after the long song, Harry’s mind drifted, until finally the sound of Umbridge’s voice brought him out of them.
“-ain, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged for our tired and tested traditions often require no tinkering…” Her voice became softer to Harry as he noticed her magical aura.
It was dangerously close to being dark, but that didn’t really surprise him with as close as she had come to using one of the Unforgivable Curses on him. Harry’s thoughts turned, remembering the people he saw dead. Hagrid’s large body laying in a crumpled heap on the grass. Fred, unmoving at his mother’s feet. George’s skin, glowing green, before falling to the ground. The agonizing look upon Mr. Weasley’s face as his wife fell. Snape’s hand reaching out towards him as the man’s chest slowed.
A flash of black, and the sound that had not been there in the battle brought him back. Harry’s eyes focused, and he heard several people clapping half-heartedly. Ron and Hermione were looking intently at him, worriedly. Waving them off, he gave them a sad smile. When he noticed that they had been dismissed, Harry stood quickly, pushing his way through the throng of students, completely unaware of dark eyes watching him.
Not wanting to return to the Gryffindor tower just yet, Harry went to the library. He spent the next hour there, looking through the restricted books, with Madam Pince’s approval. Finally, he closed the book he’d been reading, his eyes tired and knowing he would have to return eventually. Upon reaching the Fat Lady’s portrait he paused, knowing he couldn’t speak the password.
“Go on in, dearie. Dumbledore has asked me to let you in for now,” She said, sympathetically.
On the other side of the portrait waited Seamus, obviously intent on confronting him tonight, so he could get on with ignoring Harry.
“Me mam didn’t want me to come back,” Seamus said.
Harry didn’t say anything, just nodded his head in understanding.
“I suppose it’s because of you,” Seamus said again, his eyes avoiding Harry’s. “Well, she…er…well, it’s not just you, it’s Dumbledore too…”
Harry didn’t bother to show he acknowledged the phrase.
Seamus said, “Look…what did happen that night when…you know…with Cedric Diggory and all?”
Harry pulled out his necessary writing tools: “Look, I don’t want to talk about Cedric right now, it’s too soon. If you and your mother want to believe the Prophet that is totally your business. Tell me though, wouldn’t it be safer to believe something evil may be out there so you can prepare yourselves, rather than listen to something that says it’s all a lie and possibly end up hurt or dead.”
Seamus sputtered when the words ended on the paper. “I suppose…why aren’t you speaking?”
Harry took the paper back. “Something evil left this scar on my face. The spell has made me mute. Just because you don’t believe that it’s Voldemort doesn’t mean there isn’t someone just as evil, or possibly worse. Be prepared, the war is coming, evil could win.”
With that he exited the tower, wandering aimlessly. Harry wasn’t even aware when he made his way into the kitchen. As usual the house elves swarmed him, and he waved them off. Sitting down in the chair next to the fire, he realized something was different. The chair was not worn, or with the comfortable indent he had left over the years. One thing was the same, Winky sat on a wooden stool, crying and drinking. Picking up an unopened bottle, he popped the lid off, almost inhaling the first alcohol he’d had in the last two weeks.
Five bottles later, bringing his total count to six, a dark figure blocked the light of the fire. Mismatched eyes trailed up the black form, only lingering around the section where slender hips should be; yet they were obstructed by a black fabric. When Harry was finally looking at the glowering face he smiled, drunkenly.
Harry waved his half-empty bottle of liquor, the fluid sloshing in the container, inviting Snape to join him. The dark man’s scowl deepened and he yanked the bottle from the waving hand, tossing it into the fire. Enchanted, the boy watched the now blue flames. He tried to giggle, and then frowned when no sound came out. Snape took a hold of his arm, hauling him to unsteady feet.
When the boy swayed with the spinning of the room, Snape lifted him into his arms, leaving the kitchen. Harry put his cheek against the radiating heat of the professor’s chest, snaking his arms around Snape’s neck, one hand curling in the hair at the back of ‘his’, supposedly greasy, potions master’s head.
Relishing the steady heartbeat under his ear, Harry closed his eyes, not even realizing when he slipped into the realm of sleepy oblivion.
Harry woke, covered in sweat, his head pounding, not because of the after affects of the alcohol, but from the nightmare he just had. The nightmare had been about Cedric’s death. One that he had not had in a long time. Unsure of whether it was because he was so close to the time of Cedric’s death or if seeing the people he thought were gone forever, that were now alive had affected him. Perhaps the grief from the war was merely too great, overshadowing the guilt of Cedric.
Sitting up, Harry realized that he was in an unfamiliar room, placed on a comfy black couch. Looking up, he saw Snape, sleeping in an armchair across from him. Obviously this was Snape’s personal chambers, and Harry blushed. Standing, he did the only thing to help his pounding head. The first room he came across in the dungeon home was a potion lab. Quickly closing the door, he moved down the hallway.
When he found a bedroom decorated in dark grays and green, he noticed a bathroom off to the left in the room. After making his way over to it, closing and locking the door behind him, he stripped off his clothes. After a warm shower, Harry magicked his clothes clean, and towel-dried his nearly shoulder length hair, wrapping the towel around his waist. It was actually the first time he had looked at himself in the mirror since Ron’s death.
His hair, which had been nearly to his mid-back, based off of what he could see without a mirror in those times, now barely brushed his shoulders. The strange eyes still looked the same, and the scar glimmered pale against the youthful tan he had in this younger body. Behind the eyes, Harry could see the pain he had suffered, bottled up inside. Dark circles lined his eyes, making the pale one seem almost colorless. The white of his eyes were bloodshot, from not getting enough sleep. If he was honest with himself, then Harry would admit that he might just scare off Voldemort with his looks. He sighed, the only sound was his breath escaping his body.
Moving away from his broken image, he pulled on his clothes, determined not to look at the rest, now knowing what his face looked like scared him away. As he was pulling on his shoes, the eyes he used to love, because everyone said they looked like his mother’s, caught sight of a black rubber band. Picking it up, he arranged his hair, his now straight hair into a low ponytail at the back of his head.
Returning to the sitting area, Harry scribbled a note and left the dungeons, recording where the entrance was in his mind. Harry noticed that only a few students were out, so it meant that it was probably just passed the morning bell. After making his way to the library, and gaining permission from Madam Pince, he wandered the restricted section, using his magical eye to find books that had not been in the library when they were confined.
Almost instantly he caught sight of a bright blue one, sitting next to the book they had found on time travel. Knowing the book hadn’t been there, he checked it for spells or curses. Finding none, he took it down from the shelf, running his hands over it. “Spells of Binding,” the title read, and Harry sat down to read.
When he was halfway through the book, mostly just looking at the titles of each spell. Harry saw Snape’s light grey aura out of the corner of his eye. Looking up from the book, he saw the professor glaring at him, black-clad arms folded over his chest.
“Mr. Potter, the minute you return to school you get drunk. Has the last two weeks been hell without your ‘delirious’ fix?” Snape derided.
Harry said nothing, of course.
“Your things will be moved out of Gryffindor tower and down into my spare bedroom. You will come back each night after dinner, and you will only be allowed to leave if your friends come to pick you up. Now, it’s time for breakfast, don’t be late,” The angry teacher left him.
Harry blinked once. Twice, before moving. Taking the book up to the desk, questioning with his eyes if he could check it out. She seemed unable to resist, and swiftly sent him off to breakfast. Upon reaching his friends in the Great Hall, Harry sank in between them. Ron had brought him his bag, and Harry hoped his best mate didn’t forget anything. Hermione had picked up his schedule, not that he needed it.
Once Harry started picking at his food, his snowy owl landed in front of him. Running his fingers through her feathers and giving her a large piece of his bacon, she took off after leaving the letter. It was closed with the official seal of the Ministry and Harry hesitated to open it. With encouragement from his friends, he broke the wax.
“To Mr. Harry James Potter,
Our condolences on the loss of your ability to speak. We, the Ministry, hereby approve your use of the Exscribo* spell at anytime, even outside of school. Feel free to contact the Ministry should you encounter any problems.
Sincerely,
Cornelius Fudge
Minister Of Magic”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Hermione sighed.
“Good job, mate. Now Umbridge won’t be able to argue this,” Ron said, full knowing how horrible she was from Harry’s stories of her over the last two weeks.
Harry nodded, but wondered why the Minister was doing this for him. Surely it was just a ploy to get him to leave Dumbledore’s side and join the Ministry’s voice of the headmaster’s lies. Well, if Fudge wanted to play the game, then Harry would take full advantage of it.
*Exscribo – To write out
______________________
Reviews
Inugrl2004: This story gets updated every weekend, just check back by Sunday at the latest. It's okay if you think you're terrible at writing reviews, I still like to get them. ^^
DTDY: Thank you for the compliment, and the review.
Tina109: I'm so glad that you like it. I will complete it, even if it takes me forever. I've only got up to Chapter Eight finished. Need to get moving.
Aunjel18: Love? That's a big word for only six chapters, but I hope I don't disappoint you.^^
jljaina: I had this idea like forever ago, and started to work on it, but I kinda started pretty much where he's drunk and gets sent back in time. Plus the fact has changed that I made him lose the war, in the original they won, didn't seem nearly dramatic enough so I changed it. Well, as for what Snape'll do with the new mature Harry, I guess we'll all find out! ^^
___________________
Preview of Chapter Seven: Secrets Within
That night he slept, without having a nightmare. He awoke to Snape’s voice.
“Wake up Potter, and come to the lab,” Snape’s voice didn’t sound very muffled through the door.
Doing what he was told, he joined his teacher, still clad in his pajamas. Without warning Snape grabbed Harry’s hand, pricking his finger, and letting the blood drip into the potion. Then he did the same to himself. Harry wrinkled his nose, remembering the Polyjuice Potion back in 2nd year.
Snape poured them two cups, handing one to Harry. The potions master downed his cup, motioning for Harry to do the same. Once their cups were empty Snape spoke:
“Cognationis, revinctum mentis
Conserui pectoris eduro aetas.*”