Dying To Be With You

—Dying To Be With You—
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Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Genre: Romance, Angst, and Humor.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, but in fact their writer, J.K. Rowling. I am not creating this story for profit, merely for an artistic way of spirit. (Wow that makes me feel intelligent.)
Summary: When you want to be with someone badly enough to give your life, you might just have to do that.
Warning: This story has been rated NC-17 for sexual content, hints of rape, adult language, violence, and language. If you do not enjoy slash, male/male relationships, I suggest you leave now.

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Part I

If anything that Harry Potter wasn’t, it was afraid of death. Never had Harry really feared death enough to want the moment to stall long enough for him to gain breath and simmer down into unconsciousness. What he feared most was not death itself, but the torture leading to it.

Up to this point, his life was predetermined to end soon for the sake of others. Some would believe a child his age, the tender year of seventeen, would face it with the utmost fear. Not Harry Potter. Harry Potter was a true Gryffindor to the very heart that continuously beat beneath his muscled surface.

No, the true fear came with the new found emotion that came to surface his fifth year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; love. His failed attempts at the surfacing need for the other were dragging down his demeanor each day he stepped out of the portrait lining the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Rooms.

Each day was a pain that ceased every existence he had known. Never had he thought love would strike him, especially with that certain person; a man; his professor to be exact. Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin, and most feared professor at Hogwarts; his raven-stark hair, hanging low to his shoulders, silk and slightly greasy appearing. The man’s hooked nose, a characteristic that to be certain hadn’t gone unnoticed by the students unfortunate enough to be put into his class. He taught Potions, not the desired position, but one that he had taught for almost twenty years now.

The man carried a presence like no other; a pure maliciousness that scared even the bravest of the Gryffindors, except Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, son of James Potter who was the former peer of Severus Snape, was one to be admired. Though in the beginning it had seemed that he was undeserving of such a title as the Golden Boy, or other acquired names of his fame, but with the years and continual skim of death situations with Voldemort and others like him, he had truly gained the fame that was now every day pressed onto his shoulders.

To everyone Harry was the idealistic wizard, except Severus Snape. The history that followed the immediate hate between the two simmered on through the years. Harry reminded Severus too much of his father, too much of the past that ensued between the two houses of hate.

~*~

Harry walked out of the corridor, turning out to walk into the main entrance hall. He was immediately caught by the comforting arm of his best mate, Ron Weasley. The red hair was the first thing he saw before the same grinning face came forward completely.

“Hello, mate! Are you ready for Christmas holiday? You sure you don’t want to come visit my family,” Ron paraded with as many questions as his mind would allow passing his vocals within nine seconds of greeting.

“Yeah, Ron. You know I can’t go, especially with the threat that is going on right now.” Ron looked at him with a slightly saddened face, but smiled when Hermione appeared from the chattering crowds. Apparently, everyone was making their final goodbyes until they would board the train and return home to their families.

Harry wasn’t sour this time of year, but he still missed the idea of having a family to go home to. Now, more than ever, he was glad to consider the Weasley family as good as his family.

Hermione had her gathered items and a plastered smile, which Harry figured was to keep from tearing up on his account. Ever since the first Christmas holiday, she had been sensitive to how Harry saw her. She never tried to make him any more upset, nor wanted him to completely feel that she pitied him, which Harry was thankful for.

Ron blushed slightly as she neared him and stepped off to his right. This year, the Weasley family was going on a family holiday, taking along Hermione. Harry had known since fifth year that the two fancied each other, but they hadn’t yet made anything official. He smiled once more, hugging his two most well-known friends and saw them off as they took their leave from the school.

Harry had been asked earlier on in the week, by Dumbledore himself, if he would stay the holiday at Hogwarts. Harry was more than happy to comply with the headmaster’s wishes, but soon wished he hadn’t, due to the fact that he would miss a perfectly nice holiday with the Weasley family. He stayed happy, more so for his friend’s sake, who seemed more upset by the idea than he was.

He waved a final goodbye and returned to the entrance of Hogwarts, sighing out a bit of his sincere desire to enjoy the time. He climbed the stairs, his mind completely straying from any coherent thought, musing into a big mush of thoughts that if perceived by any other, would confuse them to no return.

~*~

The common room was empty, something that Harry decided to be nice. He sat near the fire, his hands placed lightly on his thighs to keep in place. He stared for what seemed to be hours, just watching strategic patterns occur in the wild flames, contained within the huge fireplace. He had no idea how he would stay completely happy during the next two weeks, kept to him. His final idea was to take to the hobby of reading and maybe a bit of study.

The book was one of definite interest, sharing the story of star-crossed lovers, ending their lives with a final breath of romanticism. Romeo and Juliet: The tragic story written by William Shakespeare, was finished within two days of picking the title. Harry had to say, he enjoyed the idea, more than one should. He figured that somehow, his love life would be somewhat like this, if he ever had one that is.

He had a love; now all he was missing was the other’s returning feelings, which was impossible to say the least. Snape would never want the son of his most hated enemy to be a true love. Hopeless. Unfortunately for Harry, he didn’t have a choice in the matter. As much as the man did to make him boil with anger, he could never fade the feelings he had for him. He, as much as his mind would allow, accepted this idea of never being loved by the one he loved.

This is where death would have been the best choice. He couldn’t stand rejection, but expected it with all of his heart. He would never be able to cease the heart of the man he loves, and he would never be able to love any other the way he loves Snape.

A sigh escaped his lips as he finally put the book down and stood to stretch out sore muscles. He left the common room, his heat dissipating as soon as he entered the darkened corridor. It was nearing the hour of eight and he wasn’t in the bit tired, or hungry. He walked the dark corridor, his pace unhurried and his thoughts well contained. If anything, he walked thoughtless, through the dark hall way.

“Mister Potter,” a voice drawled from the darkness, sending shivers to cascade down his spine. He was taken off guard, though blank, he was not paying attention when the man had entered his line of vision.

Snape stood, towering over him, though he hated to admit the fact that the man was still taller. He blamed the Dursley’s for his stunt growth; for the malnutrition he was forced into and never quite recovered from.

The man’s eyes were emotionless as ever, not wander about like that of Harry’s, but completely focused on the young man ahead of him. The silence drew on; when Harry realized that Snape must be waiting for some kind of response to indicate that he was there, mentally that is.

“Professor,” he looked up, his eyes finally focusing on him. He watched as Snape’s eyes slowly ran the length of his body. He looked down and blushed slightly upon realizing he was dressed for bed, his red pajamas standing out in the dim lit corridor.

“Well, Mister Potter, it appears as though you are quite inconsiderate to those whom have been forced to stay here through the holidays, knowing that you are still about. Did the idea ever cross your mind to dress properly when walking around the school mindlessly?” He sneered into Harry’s eyes, boring malicious temperament and uncontrollable anger. Harry figured that the man was still angry about Harry having to stay over the holidays.

Harry shook his head, at a loss for words and quite embarrassed. His pajamas weren’t quite ‘school appropriate’ right now. Three buttons near the top were unhooked, revealing a slice of pale tender flesh beneath the red material; the pants were Dudley’s so they hung off his hips and would have to be constantly pulled upon to retrieve a constant place just below his hips.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for your lack of judgment, and pure stupidity. You would think at your age, you would dress properly, Potter.” Snape passed the boy without another glance and continued down the hall and into the darkness that engulfed him, robes flailing his fury behind him.

Harry stood, unable to calm his nerves or his trembles. He was shivering, not out of fear, but out of hints of arousal. His heart had sped a hundred times its pace with the silky exchange of words and left him speechless. He pushed himself against the wall, sliding down to the floor and covering his face with his hands. The emotions were overpowering. He couldn’t feel any part of his life to be this heart-shuddering. Not even Voldemort caused such intense emotions in him.

He finally rose from his place on the ground, shivering despite his attempts to hide it. He slowly began to retrace his steps back to the common room, unable to continue his walk through the dark corridors. He had to think, and even though he hated to admit it, he was completely aroused by the other and needed the coldest shower the world could produce. Maybe it was best if he bathed in ice.

~*~

He kept to the common room the remainder of the week, keeping to his books and surprisingly enough, study. He focused mostly on Transfigurations and Potions. His notes filled the desk that was provided there in the common room. The notes were detailed and contained much of the material that he had learned so far. As time grew on, the notes began to contain much of the material they had yet to learn.

Exhaustion crept like the wind over his eyes, slowly closing them with a yawn; he dipped lower on his elbows and fell into what seemed like a small sleep. His body quivered from the huge amount of stress on his elbows and finally gave out, collapsing his face to the desk table, deepening the sleep.

He could hear screaming. He turned, looking at the pitch darkness, his body fearful for his life, but his mind focused on the task at hand. His wand was drawn at his side as he made his way through the darkness. Shrilled laughter and then screaming continued at high volume.

He tried to fade out the malicious laughter, but felt his body cease to carry him, falling hard against the stoned ground.

“What a pitiful creature you are, Harry Potter.” The voice was a slice of fear, created in what sounded like a hissing consonants. It grew louder, along with the steps that grew nearer, “You can’t even hold yourself up. How do you plan to defeat me without the strength to stand on your feet, boy?”

Harry drew in quick breaths as he felt a pain come over him, hearing the silent whisper of “Crucio”. Before he could dodge the attack, the light hit him straight on, forcing him to arch in the overload of pain.

Harry screamed, throwing himself to the floor, holding the scar that throbbed violently on his forehead. Blood ran from the scar as he screamed with his unhidden pain. He arched violently, hands stretched out into the air. The screams stayed at his through, his mouth forming them, but they grew silent.

He was arched completely, his breathing unheard over the screaming that now continued without yielding once more. He gasped again as he was struck by trembling pains that hit nearly every cell that he had in his body, tears rushing from his eyes as the pain continued.

Albus Dumbledore rushed in without the thought of stopping. He had been informed by the drawings that something was wrong and knew almost instantly to find the boy. He went to Harry’s side, watching as the scar glowed magnificently and the boy screamed with pain that out beat the rest. He aimed his wand at the boy, muttering something that wasn’t quite audible. Harry breathed heavily, his body slightly relaxing against the carpet.

Madam Pomfrey was there within minutes of Albus’ entry. She carried many potions in her hands, but upon seeing Albus and the boy, she took out a purple colored potion and went to Harry’s side.

Albus helped sit the boy up as she coaxed the boy to swallow its contents. Once Harry had successfully calmed with the calming solution, she made him drink a sleepless draught. He was levitated and taken to the hospital wing.

~*~

Severus entered the headmaster’s office, his look sterner than it had been all day. He had overheard of what had happened to the boy, and without thinking began a potion to help ease the after-effects.

Albus smiled at the Severus, “Severus, my boy, please come in. Lemon drop?” He held out the container to Severus, who declined with a brief shake of his head. He sat down in the chair opposite the headmaster, his hands resting on his lap.

“You wanted to see me?” He inquired, hoping to make the meeting quick. He still had to check on the potion, and he only had twenty minutes until he had to add the dragon liver. He sat, watching as the headmaster conjured the tea and looked up in offering. This time he accepted the tea cup, thankful for a way of relief.

“Ah yes, I was wondering if it wouldn’t be any trouble if you could make a few potions for me. Harry was hit this morning by the Crucio curse. I need a stronger sleeping draught and stronger calming draughts for this, Severus. I would also like to have the boy mandated at all times, in case this happens once more. It was pure luck that I found out this morning. Next time, we might not be so lucky.”

Severus glared at him, “I will make the potions, but I refuse to be the boy’s personal babysitter.” Dumbledore looked at him, his eyes glint the smile on his face.

“Severus, I do not wish to impose on you, but I see you as the best option right now.” Severus shook his head, disagreeing with each nod.

“Absolutely not, Albus. I refuse to watch over that boy. Find someone else.”

“There is no one else I see suitable for the position, Severus.”

“You mean to punish me, I know it.”

“I am not punishing you, my boy.”

“Albus, I refuse.” Severus stood from his chair, his face red with anger. He made no attempt of leaving, but he was enraged at the imposition of his personal time. He would not be a person caretaker to the son of his most hated enemy.

“Come, Severus, you mustn’t be so stubborn.” The glitter in the man’s eyes only proved to infuriate Severus more than he had been before. The old coot was amused, and he was mocking him with this sort of punishment.

“I will not watch the boy, Albus.”

“Severus,” the man looked at him, standing slightly and smiling, “I must insist that you follow my request. The boy needs to be watched at all times and I see you as the only one fit to hold the position.”

Severus sighed, holding the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. “You are insufferable. Fine, tell the boy to bring his things to my quarters as soon as possible.” Dumbledore nodded, smiling until the glimmer reached his eyes.

“Thank you, Severus.” Severus left without a goodbye, hoping to calm his fury. He was now imposed upon by the insolent, Harry Potter. His holiday, as he hoped, went down drain.

~*~

Harry woke from the dreamless sleep that had been induced by the potions given to him earlier. He rubbed his eyes, noticing the fuzzy appearance of everything around him. His arm outstretched to take his glasses from the nightstand next to the infirmary bed. He placed them on his nose, and sighed as his vision cleared.

He sat up slightly, his body aching low and his head slightly hazy. He didn’t quite remember anything from the last few days, but figured something to happen since he was in the hospital wing.

Poppy appeared from the door, rushing over to the bed and smiling down at Harry. “Good to see you are feeling better, Mister Potter. I have been asked that once you are ready that you go to Headmaster Dumbledore’s office. The password is Ginger Snaps.” She smiled once more before showing him the gathered items from the side of the bed.

He stood once she had left and made his way over to his things to prepare him for the day.

~*~

Harry walked into the office, after knocking and receiving a laughing, “Come in, my boy.” He sat down, smiling as he picked out a small candy from the container. He looked up to see his headmaster smiling through the half-mooned spectacles, happily.

“Good to see you are doing well, Harry. You probably don’t remember much from what happened. You were hit with the crucio curse from Voldemort, but as I can see are quickly recovering. For your safety, I have asked Professor Snape to watch over you for the remainder of the holiday.” Harry’s eyes widened and his heart began to speed, but wasn’t allowed a chance to protest.

“Takes you things to the dungeons and he will show you to where you will sleep.” Harry merely nodded, giving up the idea of protest. He knew that in the case of his headmaster, all refusals were hopeless, even for Snape.

He got up, nodding his goodbye to the headmaster and made his way to the Gryffindor tower to retrieve his things.

~*~
Author\'s Notes: Please, reviews are highly appreciated. I would like to see how you feel about the story.