Until Life Escapes Us

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Until Life Escapes Us
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Chapter One: Found Memories
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not my idea and here out should not be thought so.
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Warning: This story will in the future contain slash, so be warned.
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Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm clock shrilled out into the density of the room, calling the habitants to order together and ready their things for yet another day of their beloved Hogwarts.

Harry, being the dense sleeper he was, didn’t wake for ten minutes. The alarm was spelled to only switch off when all of the boys in the room awoke. Making the shrilled sound drove all of the awaken boys to madness and so driving them to shake and scream into Harry Potter’s impermeable ears, as it seemed.

”Harry! Bloody hell, wake up already!” screamed Ron from a few inches away from the raven-haired boy’s ears. Morning after morning, this was the ritual that took place. The alarm clock would go off and soon afterwards, there would be Ron, screaming as loud as his vocals would permit to get the boy to rise out of his slumber.

Harry finally cracked his eyes open, peering out through narrow slits to check the time.

”You are getting faster, Ron. Only five minutes after the ten minute mark.” Harry prided upon his best friend. Though Ron seemed angry, he enjoyed the time well spent screaming into Harry’s ears, allowed simple frustrations to be relieved in his mind.

”I guess that is what happens when you are every morning awoken to my beautiful singing voice.” He smiled, turning away and grabbing his items for class. His books were heavy as always, carrying everything from the ‘World of Constellations’ to ‘Potions in Description: Projects and Simple Creations of the Potion World’.

Harry was soon dressed and cleaned, as much as his body would allow. His hair still clumsily ratted into big messes that shot from every corner present on his round globe. He tried his best to pat down flailing hair and resist the urge to just rid of all the mess with a shaving razor. After once looking over his look, after a series of minutes putting together his tie and robes, he left the room.

Ron was ahead of him, not stopping to wait for his friend. Ron and he hadn’t shared a class that year. As Ron was heading off for his Defense Against Dark Art’s class, Harry was well on his way to the most dreaded teacher on campus, Professor Snape, teacher of Potions class, located in the coldest and darkest rooms in Hogwarts—the dungeons.

Severus Snape was in front of the class, his eyes marking papers given to him to report various ways of using bitter mushroom and blickered berries. His eyes gave way, upon hearing the entry of several of his sixth year students. Looking up from a badly marked paper, he sneered, noticing his most unfavorable of all students—Harry Potter.

The boy-who-lived wasn’t taken lightly by the villainous and vilest of all teachers. Detentions were a natural occurrence between the two, and point deduction was almost as common as the minutes within themselves. Severus took pleasure in making the boy-who-lived, most speculated among the years, miserable during the years he attended Hogwarts. Not only his bitterness towards the boy grew, but also the inner battle within him.

During points of his thoughts, he found his mind wander to the boy, watching those emerald eyes glimmer when a smile presented itself on the boy’s face. Severus never understood the little eagerness of Harry arriving, but he figured it had to do with the subconscious thoughts he had towards him.

Harry sat down near the back, making as little noise as possible to avoid contact with his dreaded potion’s professor. He quirked his head to the side when he noticed Snape staring at him. His heart began to race, for no apparent reason, but as he watched the man, he noticed something giving way in those abyssal eyes.

‘Is that…’ he stopped himself. His heart was already about ready to push its way out of his ribcage and into the cold drafted dungeon for everyone to see. Harry had always known that he didn’t like women, mostly after he began to think about Cho and compare her to a guy that was much like her.

Severus watched the boy for a few more seconds, making sure to add a slight sneer to make it seem as though he had been anticipating detention giving. In fact, he was making excuses more often to give Potter detention.

”Mr. Potter, detention for not being properly ready, almost five minutes after the bell.” He smirked and continued his lesson with the class. Nothing else had been heard from Potter all that time he taught.

Finally, when the time was done for the next class to proceed, he took a glance back and noticed that Potter was simply staring at the opposite wall, his eyes masked over with fog and an emotion that Severus had no words to describe. It seemed as though the boy was gone from the world because as the other students stood to leave, progressing their ways to their next class, Potter sat there, not moving one muscle.

”Potter! Wake up, you must leave now. I will expect you at the dungeons at five.” Still Potter didn’t move. His eyes were left undisturbed and his hands placed comfortably on the desk. Severus traveled over to the boy and noticed his skin turning pale. Without another thought, he quickly took the boy into his arms and rushed off for the infirmary.

~*~

Harry awoke, his body aching slightly upon the sudden jerk of muscle. He allowed dry air to pass his chipping lips. His throat was so dried that he could hardly breathe, let alone talk.

Before he was able to take a look around the room, water was brought to his lips and he eagerly drank, retracting his throat along with slow gulps of cool liquid. More surprising was the person giving him the water. Severus Snape hung down low, leaning near enough to allow the slow intake of water to be as minimally strenuous as gravity allowed.

Once Harry had finished what he could of the delicious liquid, he stared, watching the man set the glass on the side table top and return to the seat nearest the surprisingly enormous bed.

”Professor?” was the final response to the wonderment that passed over the boy’s eyes and now forming the high toned question. Emerald eyes glimmered under the little light given in the room. It was in the evening, around eleven maybe even twelve. Severus had been watching Harry, for any movement the last week or so.

After he had brought the boy to the infirmary, and later taken to his private quarters, he had found that the boy was poisoned, by a potion found in his private section. The only person who used that section was him, so of course he was called into questioning. After much searching though, Draco Malfoy had been found to be the real culprit and therefore sent to Dumbledore’s office to adhere to further punishment.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?” his eyes glanced over to the boy, now propping himself into a half-sitting up position on the bed. Though he showed no emotion, no one could ever know that his heart was racing just at knowing that the boy was alright and hadn’t any problems during the healing process of the poison.

”Where am I?” He looked through the room, but didn’t quite recognize it to be anything like the hospital wing. Velvet lined the bed in which he had slept and the room was almost full to the brims with book shelves filled and compacted with books. He took another glance around, realizing it to be someone’s room.

”We are in my private quarters, Mr. Potter.” His tone was softened a bit, but the pure bliss of the boy being oka—what was he saying? Since when did he care so much about Potter? He didn’t quite understand these feelings that he had; they were nothing he had felt before in his life.

”Uh, sir?” was the response of the slightly shivering boy on the bed, his hair covering over his eyes a bit to hide the flush of red that now stained his cheeks. His body shivered under the realization that he was now alone with the man that he had thought about in more embarrassing manner, only in wild dreams that he would sometimes wake to.

”What? Expecting more of a luxurious place to sleep for over a week in?” His tone carried much of the expected malice, but was not as harsh as it would be considering the circumstances. He knew that he had to allow the Golden-Boy a moment of awe at the room, since it hinted no sign of green or silver anywhere.

“Wh-what happened?” Harry finally replied after a few moments of dead silence, only their mingled breathing was heard from the somewhat abyssal room corners. Harry shifted his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes of the weeks slumber and yawning a bit.

”You were poisoned, nothing as which I can tell you. Now that you are moving about, we can wait until morning to report your condition to the Headmaster. If you would please excuse me, I have business to attend to.” Severus stood from his position on the chair, walking a bit towards the door.

Harry allowed his blurred vision of the dark figure go to the door and then disappear out into the darkness of yet another room hoisted in this largely elaborated bedroom and area. His body was trembling feebly underneath the soft silk that covered it, a constant trepidation. So he shifted slightly, encumbering himself beneath the warmth of the slightly heavy blankets.

He thought for many moments, mostly going over reasons as to why Snape, of all people, would host him in his private quarters without a thought, or did the man simply do as the Headmaster told him to keep from those twinkling eyes. Whatever drove Snape to allow Harry stay there was beyond his thoughts and definitely not because he wanted Harry there.

With those final thoughts and answered questions, he allowed his eyes to close, masking his confusion and taking him back into a world inhabited with nightmares of that horrible past he called his life.

~*~

”Demanding BRAT! I will kill you!” Two hands circled his throat, shaking fear to arise in his throat and throb. Bellowing tears shook his eyes free of all the emotion and left him crying out for his life as the oxygen was cut from his system. The man’s eyes, a streaming fury of crimson anger, were that of his own relative Vernon.

Harry gasped for air, trying to pry those fat ingested hands from his small neck, taking all his strength and focusing it simply in that one area. His attempts proved unsuccessful as those eyes that held his with anger grew wider and if so, more malicious than had been before.

”Trying to escape Potter? What in God’s name do you think that will do? I shall tear you from every limb and pride upon your beaten body.” Another flash of ember burning fires burned heavily in those held fast eyes, taking his neck to another level of pain. Flashes of his life surfaced as the last thread of his air was used for trying to pump his heart and now his slowing body became a weak bundle beneath the heavy body that now covered his.

Blackness covered over him, but as apparent as the sun was during the day, was his uncle’s body pushing his need forcefully into his small arse, leaving him to cry out.

”NO!” Somebody was holding him close, running slick fingers to brush an easing comfort through his rapidly breathing chest. The firm figure stroked his head, holding him closely to his body.

”Shhh…” The voice was easy to recognize, but why would it be turning up in this circumstance. Snape hovered over him, eyes closed and hand running soothing patterns on Harry’s scalp, taking away the fear of being completely devoured by his overweight uncle.

Harry sighed out finally, a breath he had been holding since the dream of the choking had taken control of his body, leaving him thrashing in the bed like a wild beast. His body was shaking, not with chill but with the fear of memories, long since remembered. It had only been last summer that Harry was taken finally by his uncle, violently bloodied and beaten. That summer, Harry had finally received the ultimate punishment for his gift, but now thought of curse.

Severus soothed the boy, having rushed into the room after simply sitting by the fire and reading. He had heard the boy thrashing violently, screaming no and acting as though all air had escaped him. Severus had found him blue, and crying. Something the professor had never wanted in his life to witness Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, dying slowly from a nightmare.

Severus had immediately grabbed the boy, hoping that a soothing hand and body would replace the boy’s fears and once again coax him to breathe. Harry had not immediately responded to his hand, but soon calmed underneath the soft touch and gently spoken words. His eyes had reopened to show a fearful boy, lost in the eyes of his once hated potion’s professor.

Harry let out a soft groan, curling into his professor’s gentle arms, crying violently as though just realizing that he was truly okay and not about to be killed. Severus was fearful, mostly due to the boy’s reaction upon waking. Harry didn’t seem at all relieved.

”Po-Harry, what happened?” He finally spoke, softly enough as to not startle the crying boy. His eyes finally caught sight of bruises on the back of Harry’s neck, ones usually covered with the heavily black cloaks the students and professors wore. The bruises were finger shaped.

Severus brought the shivering boy closer to his body, wondering what sort of thing could have happened to shake the infamous Harry Potter so much to almost die over one nightmare. He couldn’t fathom why the boy would not speak, but figured all in due time as the boy was now quieted with heavy slumber.

Not wanting Harry to receive anymore tear-jerking dreams, Severus slowly eased down a Sleepless Dream drought and replaced the boy in his prior position on the bed. This time though, he stretched his length along the Harry’s, hoping to soothe and allow time to heal.

Though he didn’t want to admit the pathetic excuse, he simply wanted to protect Harry and now that he had the chance, he wrapped his strong arms around the lithe waist and drifted off into that of his own dreams.

~*~

A/N: I hope to receive reviews on this as I want to understand better what my writing needs. If there are any betas out there willing to overview my work, email me at oxymoronic_leader@hotmail.com