Third Place - Romance

"...move back up to the Gryffindor Tower."

Severus thought Harry stayed remarkably composed, though he could tell that the boy was affected by the news. He wished that Harry would say something, he was entirely too good at hiding his feelings.

But all he got in reply was a nod.

He thought that the boy would be stable enough to not be constantly monitored now. He trusted Harry not to do anything else, knew that he would be alright. It was the effect that his former friends might have on the boy that he worried about. He had thought about requesting for Harry to stay in the dungeons with him, but reasoned that this might bring him further grief from his classmates. And the boy could not stay down here forever. He would have to face the world again at some point. The benefit of the time spent here was that, hopefully, Harry now knew he did not have to face it alone.

He got no argument at the news from the other, but Harry became noticeably withdrawn over the course of the afternoon. When Draco returned, Severus saw him looking askance at Harry, wondering what had changed. He knew the Headmaster would have already informed the Slytherin boy of the event, so did not need to broach the subject again.

The next two days passed quickly. Draco was still spending much of his time in Albus' company, trying to sort out the legal problems which had arisen with his parents receiving the Dementor's kiss, and the hounding that he was sure to receive from the press.

Severus stepped up his tutelage of Harry, they were almost always in his private lab. Within that short space of time he easily covered the syllabus for the entire year, then started to move onto more specialised, complex potions. He felt confident doing so because of the aptitude the boy displayed. Harry seemed to have a feeling for potions, sometimes adding things on impulse. Yes, Harry was definitely not the slow witted trouble maker he had always believed, when properly taught and motivated the boy's progress was amazing.

Snape found himself enjoying the work they did together. It had been so long since he had taught someone competent who did not need to be reminded of the simplest things and make the mot foolish mistakes. Someone he did not have to watch all of the time. Soon he began working on his own experiments as Harry did his. The boy was always inquisitive, demanding to know what Snape was doing. So they would stand, side by side stirring their potions, and Severus would tell Harry of the latest research projects and breakthroughs. He hadn't had anyone to talk to in this casual way for so long. He had missed it. Had missed having someone who listened.

Then school started.

This time, he was not ashamed to agree with his inner voice when it said he missed the boy's presence.

He kept a distant eye on Harry over the next few days. The next potions class was not until almost a week later, and Harry did not come to see him in the meantime. He was worried. It was impossible that the boy could have returned completely back to normal and not be depressed at all. If he wasn't confiding in Snape, then that meant he probably wasn't telling anyone. Certainly not his friends.

Fester, fester, fester, said his inner voice.

Although when he saw Harry in the great hall the boy did seem to have made up some of his differences with them. While Snape noticed that the Weasley boy was awkward and didn't know how to act around Harry, who responded accordingly coolly, Granger seemed to be making a real effort. From this Severus assumed that Harry had told her the truth. That was definitely a good sign, and the fact that she seemed to have accepted him as he was was even better. At least Harry would have someone to keep him company.

The boy was eating at least. Not very much, but he was still eating more in a single mealtime than he had previously been doing during a whole day. Snape told himself that he wouldn't watch Harry, that he was fine. But his eyes were drawn to the boy, his ears seemed tuned to the still somewhat rare sound of his laughter.

And Harry didn't come to see him.

Potions with the fifth years came around at last. He had just had an aggravating first year group who had managed between them to ruin the floor of the lab, fill the room with fumes, and send two students off to the hospital wing. It hadn't even been a dangerous potion! Incompetant fools. Why he ever agreed to teach...

His class filed in, looking nervous at the ominous expression the potion's master wore. Only Harry seemed unaffected by it, as he cheerfully got his equipment out. Then again, thought Snape, Harry was the only one who understood the cause, and knew that it would not be taken out on him.

Severus felt free to take out his anger on everyone else, though he made another exception for Draco. He had noticed that the Slytherins had been tormenting the other for his betrayal, and, though he had spoken sharply to his house over the matter, it had not served to make a great deal of difference. So he felt no need to make Draco's life more miserable. Maybe he should talk to the Headmaster about him?

As the class opened their texts to the prescribed experiment for the day, Snape walked up behind Harry.

"Since you have already successfully completed this experiment there is no need for you to perform it again. Continue on with what you were doing when we last met," he murmured. "Stay behind at the end."

Here then was a chance for him to finally talk to Harry. He noticed the sideways looks that the boy was receiving from Granger. He noticed that Weasley didn't appear to care at all... and was about to make the whole classroom explode. He corrected the problem. And took points. Lots of points. It relieved the unresolved tension he had felt before, his anger towards the brat flowing into its proper channel.

Weasley opened his mouth. It might have only been to yawn, but on the off chance there was another, more deadly purpose behind it, such as speaking, Snape took more points. Merlin, that felt good.

By the time the class left, Gryffindor was almost in negative figures for house points. Weasley was looking as though he would throw himself off the nearest cliff, and Severus was sure that he had seen a wicked smirk cross Harry's face at what the other boy was going through. Granger looked slightly dubious when Harry said he was remaining behind, but seemed to understand, and left without saying anything.

Harry moved towards the front. Before Snape could say anything, the boy launched into a seemingly never-ending stream of questions about the potion he had just made, wanting to discuss it's applications and why it had to be prepared in a certain way. Severus could not stop a smile, his inner voice told him he had once been that eager, that he still was sometimes. When Harry finally ran out of things to say, he was sat comfortably on one of the desks facing Snape, swinging his legs. He seemed quite cheerful.

"Why haven't you been to see me?" It was so hard to ask that question. Because of the meanings. Because he felt ashamed of missing Harry's company.

"I didn't know when you wanted to work with me again, you didn't tell me."

That hadn't answered the question that he had asked. Had avoided it quite neatly whilst pretending to cover it.

"You need to practise regularly." Still, it was partially his own fault, he had forgotten how unsure the boy still was of everything. "I was expecting you to come when you were free."

Shrug.

"Well, we can start again tonight. Have you been studying?"

Nod.

"Then we will work on the Belrenas potion."

The eyes lit up. The smile came back. "Really? Cool!"

"Come down after dinner. I'll be waiting."

As he had been for many nights now. Ever since talking to the boy had somehow become an irreplaceable part of his days.

Harry came through the portrait hole without knocking. For a moment Severus was startled, had Albus been giving the boy lessons? Then he remembered about the snake in the picture.

They went into the lab. While Harry was working Sylrissin moved up to his neck and half coiled around it, freeing his hands and guaranteeing her a good view. It was a sight that Snape had grown used to.

As they talked Severus found himself relaxing in a way that he hadn't all week. Here he could just be himself, with Harry he didn't have to scowl and bark. Not that he didn't enjoy doing so, but it was nice to have a break. He smiled at the little jokes the boy made as he worked, and Harry slowly began to open up and talk about what his life was like back at the Tower. He said that Ron was still being somewhat of an ass, he went around with a look on his face like he knew he should apologise but was too much of a proud bastard to do so. When Harry mentioned the similarities between that look and the one Ron had when constipated, Severus almost choked keeping in a laugh. He might have made that comparison himself.

"Hermione's alright though. I sent her a letter back telling her everything, and she's been really nice about it. She doesn't bother me about it, and I don't talk about it with her, but it's good having someone there who knows, and who sort of understands what I'm feeling some of the time."

Snape more than agreed. He couldn't help a small pang of jealousy however, that Harry went elsewhere for reassurance now, which was why he hadn't come to see him, but squashed it firmly, not wanting to analyse it further. Anyway, said his inner voice reasonably, the boy said that he didn't talk to her. So Severus was still the only one who really knew everything.

"And most of the others in the tower are the same as they ever were. Since they found out about the points you took off him earlier though, they've been a bit peeved with Ron. They reckon no one could lose that many, even from you, without having done something to deserve it."

"He did do something to deserve it."

Harry went quiet, and for a while they worked in silence.

"I see Draco sometimes. He doesn't like staying in his common room so much anymore, so he comes down to the library a lot. I usually meet him when Ron and Hermione are hanging out in the common room for a while."

"So Granger is still speaking to Weasley even after his obnoxious behaviour?"

"Well, yes. They are friends after all. Just because Ron is too stubborn and childish to admit he was wrong doesn't make him a different person. He's still the same boy she was friends with all along. It wouldn't be right for them to give that up, though I think she nags him about me a lot. I wouldn't really want to go back to being best friends with him now anyway. I don't think I could. I get on far better with Draco than I do with him."

"How is Draco?"

"Coping. I think."

"Your idea of coping is perhaps not the most reassuring."

A quick grin. Severus was infinitely pleased that Harry could stand to joke about it.

"No, he's coping way better than I did. I think he'd tell me if anything... I mean, we don't talk a lot. We usually just sit there and read. But I know he'd tell me."

"And how are you coping?" He hadn't wanted to have to ask. But he needed to be sure.

Harry's eyes came up and gazed steadily into his. The expression in the green orbs was absolutely honest.

"I think I'm doing alright now. I haven't... I haven't done anything if that's what you mean." The boy's voice had become defensive at the end.

He reached out and gently squeezed Harry's shoulder. "I didn't think you had," he said seriously.

Harry looked at him for a moment longer, then turned his attention back to his potion.

They cleaned up. It was getting late.

"You'd better go then, big Quidditch game tomorrow."

Harry smiled apprehensively and left.

He watched the game closely. Though he was generally annoyed at the biased comments that the announcer always tended towards, he had to admit that the ones focusing on Harry were justified. The boy was playing on one of the useless school brooms, Severus could just picture the Gryffindor team's expressions when they had found out, but was still amazingly good. His skill during this game proved that his abilities had not been reliant on having the latest model of broom, they had merely been heightened by the fact. He still swept the opposition off the pitch, and Snape was glad that it hadn't been vs. Slytherin so he didn't have to appear quite so dour after the win.

He had seen Harry fly past the stand where he had been sitting, and got a good view of the boy's face. It had the same concentration he saw there when Harry was making a new potion, coupled with an intense joy that seemed to make him glow. As he had watched Harry zoom around the pitch, Severus had suddenly understood what drew Harry to this. It was the same reason he himself had once loved the sport.

When he was flying, Harry felt free.

At first he wasn't sure what had woken him, he was a very light sleeper. With his good night vision he blearily scanned the room. Nothing. Then he heard a small rustle coming from beside the bed.

"Lumos."

He sat up, brandishing his wand. And then relaxed.

Harry was curled up against the wall beside the bed, with one arm lifted to shield his eyes from the sudden light. Severus dimmed it a little.

"Harry?"

"I didn't mean to wake you," said the boy. Still timid, Snape noted. Probably afraid that he would have gone back to being a stern teacher again. Despite the talk they had yesterday. But he came. He came. Harry trusted him.

Blinking with drowsiness, Severus yawned. "What did you want?" His mind starting to function on a slightly higher level, he remembered his manners. Manners that had been literally drilled into him from an early age. "Would you like something to drink?"

Harry shook his head. Snape wasn't sure if that was good or bad. It could either be because the boy felt so depressed that he felt sick at the thought of consuming something, or it could be because he didn't feel bad enough to require the comfort of hot chocolate. Or it could just be because he isn't thirsty, mentioned his little voice.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better I guess."

"Then why are you here?"

The boy shrugged. That gesture was so infuriating. But Harry had sought his company, there must be something he could do.

"Did you want to talk? Sometimes it's better than letting things fester."

Oh, now there was a line taken straight from his inner voice. He didn't have to worry about disclaimers, did he?

Harry looked up. "How are you feeling?" the boy asked.

What? "Very well thank you." Cheeky boy. "Better I guess." Which was true.

"Are you sure that you aren't festering too?"

Severus laughed softly. The counselled counselling the councillor. He's got a point, said his inner voice. And a sense of humour even when down.

"Maybe a little. But I know that I cannot change things. And I do not know that overall, they mightn't have turned out worse had I acted differently then. How do I know that other deaths might not have occurred had I gone to the battle?"

Harry appeared to be thinking for a moment. "That sounds like something the Sorting Hat said to me."

Snape frowned, he did not remember...

"When I was waiting for the Headmaster after my vision. It talked in my head. It said that I would have been better in Slytherin, and that some of the bad things in my life wouldn't have happened. But then it said that I would probably have had a whole different set of other troubles, and that different people would have died. And I guess that I can't tell whether that path would have been better or worse than this one. But I try not to think of it, most of the time. For there is nothing I can do."

"Harry," he said gently. "Why did you come here?"

The boy paused and took several shaky breaths.

"After the game. I overheard some people talking. About Cedric."

"What did they say?"

"Nothing important." Severus was about to pursue this, but Harry continued. "They were just talking about what a good player he had been. But it made me think, of all the things that he would never get to do. Do you know that when I came back after the summer there were tons of people who blamed me for what happened? I blamed myself too. I got a letter from his parents. They said that Dumbledore had explained everything to them. But I knew what they were really feeling. I remember how proud of him his father was."

Harry shuddered slightly, and Snape wasn't sure if he had finished speaking. He knew that he shouldn't try and press Harry into talking further. He had to wait.

So he waited. And was rewarded.

"I heard his screams again tonight," came the whisper so soft that Severus thought he might have imagined it. But he knew from the words that he had not.

"Did you not take the potion?"

"Yes, yes I did."

Snape felt a wave of trepidation take hold of him. "It wasn't a vision was it?"

"No, at least I don't think so. You can't have visions of the past anyway, can you? It was like, it was struggling to break free of the barriers I had put up against it, and the potion could only hold it for so long. I... is there a stronger version of the dreamless sleep potion that we could make? I thought that I remembered reading about one somewhere?"

"Yes. The only problem with it is that it cannot be taken often, designed like that to prevent addiction. I suppose that we could modify it..." Severus trailed off as he began mentally tallying the ingredients they would need and the different alterations that could be made to the recipe.

When he looked up again, he saw that Harry had a small smile on his face. He raised an eyebrow in query.

"I like it when you do that. When you drift off and I can tell that you're making potions in your head. It just reminds me who you really are."

"Who I really am?" he repeated astonished.

Harry looked hesitant for a second, afraid of overstepping the boundaries, but overcame it and spoke.

"Yes. Not the Professor Snape everyone else sees in class. They think that you are like that all the time you know?" Yes, he did know. "But you aren't. When there's no one around for you to scowl at, you just forget about being mean and become Severus, as you are now. Severus who has a thick, luxurious carpet in his bedroom and a sense of humour, and can I add a really twisted chess set." Severus smiled. "And when you are thinking about your potions, you are totally relaxed. I bet no one else has ever seen that."

No, no one else ever had. No one had seen the real him, since Dumbledore irritated him too much to stop him snapping at the man. But Harry knew him, had got close enough to even understand him to some measure. When had that happened? When had he stopped being Professor Snape with the boy and started being Severus?

That would have been when he was trying to get Harry to trust him so that he didn't commit suicide, said his inner voice. And when he comforted the boy during his nightmares. And when he sat on the couch and read to Harry and ate cookies. And when he took the boy on as an apprentice because he saw something in him that no one else did either.

"Thank you," he acknowledged quietly.

They sat some more. Severus started to doze off, then suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, well done on winning the game, by the way."

Harry grinned in response. "It was great fun."

"You certainly looked as though you enjoyed it. And see, even on a school broom, you showed your quality. That says a lot, you know. Those brooms ought to be used for firewood."

"I know."

"So now that you've proved to yourself that you're more than the broom you ride on, why don't you get yourself a new one and spare me the happiness of watching my own house win. It hasn't happened for so long since you came to the school that I don't know what I'd do if they did."

He wasn't sure if he should have said that. Sleep was clouding his brain. Had he said something foolish or not?

"I guess I will. For a while I wasn't sure why I was playing. Ever since I found out that my dad played... I've been wondering if that's why I was doing it. Trying to live up to expectations. But when I was playing today, I realised that I really did enjoy it. So yes, maybe I will get a broom after all."

Severus smiled, knowing that everything would be all right. "Good, make sure you get a nice one. A Star something. Get that. It had a good magical signature. Try not to fall off."

He was falling asleep. He hadn't fallen asleep in anyone else's presence before. It required a degree of trust that he had never felt. But now... He yawned again.

"Goodnight," he heard murmured, then the shutting of a door, then he slept.

Life was better. There were still rough patches, bad minutes, bad hours, bad days, but Harry struggled through them. And when the feelings got too overwhelming, he could go and see Severus. The regular tutorials helped. Just being in the older man's presence soothed him. And while he was working he could forget about the things which haunted him.

Hermione didn't comment when she saw him heading off to the potions lab several nights a week. He knew she didn't approve of him seeking comfort in Snape, but she had been so proud of him when she heard that he had been made the professor's apprentice. So she accepted it. And that was all Harry needed. Ron didn't care where Harry went in the evenings, except to make sarcastic comments, and spread rumours. Harry just ignored him, he got his revenge, by his own methods as well as in class when Severus would completely humiliate his former friend. It was more than worth the loss of points.

Draco seemed to be the most understanding of his relationship with Severus, for he had the same kind though to a lesser degree with Dumbledore. The two boys met frequently in the library, as both wished to concentrate on their studies. Harry found it nice to have company without pressure, and the knowledge that the other had some of the same problems too. Neither really talked of the things that troubled them, it was unnecessary. In fact, a great deal of their time was taken up with plotting ways to kill Ron, and inventing punishments for mischief which Harry was sure to mention to Severus when he next saw him.

The first time the professor took points for an imaginary offence which they had thought up, both of them burst out laughing. This drew looks of bewilderment from the Slytherins, horror from the Gryffindors, and hidden amusement from Severus. After that they grew far more creative, and learned to control themselves in class.

Harry's rocketing expertise in potions also helped in his dealings with Ron. At meals, he sat next to Hermione, who sat next to the annoying brat. Harry would slip things to Hermione, who apparently had a well concealed evil streak which Ron had brought out in his dealings with Harry, and she would slip them into Ron's drinks.

The noises that came from the Gryffindor table at meal time grew more and more outrageous. Ron's eyebrows changed colour, he temporarily lost his tongue (Sylrissin approved of that), he got The Chudley Cannons Are Crap tattooed across his forehead for the day, he had an attack of hiccups which lasted right the way through potions, so that Severus had an opportunity to take more points. Seeing Ron suffer did wonders for Harry's wounded soul.

He got a new broom. There wasn't an opportunity for him to go to Diagon Alley so he got a mail order catalogue and he and Draco spent hours browsing through it. Even though he already knew which one he wanted to get they argued their way through the entire booklet, pointing out the pros and cons of each broom. Now that he had lost Ron it was good to still have someone to talk Quidditch with. He got the Starburst. When it came at breakfast the whole of Gryffindor table burst out cheering, they were sure to win now.

Ron turned an unnatural orange colour with jealousy and stayed that way for most of the rest of the week. Until Harry gave a potion to Hermione which she slipped to her unsuspecting friend. Then he turned green. There wasn't a single person in the hall, besides some of the professors, who didn't burst out laughing. Ron had to go to the hospital wing.

Harry and Draco spent a long time just admiring the broom. Harry let his friend fly on it, as Draco's own broom had been confiscated along with all of his other familial possessions, including his home. Draco didn't have enough money to buy a new broom. Harry didn't offer. He knew his friend. Draco had been forced off his house team anyway, when news of his betrayal spread. Severus had insisted on his re-admittance, but Draco had said he'd rather not play. It would just make things worse. So he and Harry only played friendly matches with each other. Sometimes they went for long flights around the grounds, and over the forest, with Draco using a school broom.

Harry found that life was worth living. And he had finally found something which he was good at that didn't leave him in his father's shadow. He was good at potions, and Severus had told him that he definitely had a future in it.

He had a future.

Harry and Draco were walking down to the dungeons one evening, Draco was headed to his common room and Harry had said that he would drop by at some point to see Severus to check when the next private lesson would be.

They were ambushed.

While it was entirely possible that the Slytherins had only been aiming to capture Draco, they were more than pleased with the added bonus. Binding spells were cast on both of them before they could reach their wands. Harry felt so stupid for being caught unprepared.

"What do we have here then? A traitor and a weakling. You will be dealt with." He recognised the speaker, a Slytherin seventh year. Big and vicious. Especially vicious.

They were hustled deeper into the dungeons, Harry cursing his helplessness all the way. One of the others grabbed Sylrissin and, before she had a chance to bite him, threw her into a side classroom. Then they took off running again.

They were shoved into a storage closet, released from the spell, but with the cupboard locked. Harry hit his head hard against the wall due to the force that he was thrown in with.

They were in a cupboard.

It was dark.

His head hurt.

Harry let out a whimper and slid to the floor. So dark. He couldn't see anything.

"How can you even say that Hermione? Get your nose out of the book. Look. Now do you understand? If you'd only..."

"Harry! Harry!" called a voice on the edge of his awareness.

He was being shaken roughly.

"Lumos."

Suddenly there was light all around him. Too much. And light always came before pain. He huddled up into a ball with his arms wrapped around him. He kept his eyes firmly shut.

"Come on Ron, it's Christmas! Thanks for the sweets, hope I don't get a slug flavoured one like last time though."

"Harry!"

He wouldn't think about what was going on outside, wouldn't think about how angry Vernon would be with him. Stupid boy, screaming again!

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Come on Harry, we have to figure out a way to get out of here. Can you hear me?"

Harry opened his eyes. Malfoy. So it's that dream again, he mused. The one where he was told how useless he was by everyone. Not that he needed to be told. It was obvious enough.

"Harry." The voice was growing panicked now. Why was that? Maybe his uncle was coming.

"I'm going to have to put the light out to open the door. I don't have enough energy for both."

It went dark again, inside his eyelids. He opened them. It was dark outside too. The blackness swamped him. Soon all he could hear was the amplified sound of his own ragged breathing. He had to keep breathing. But it was hard, like when Dudley sat on his chest. Breathing made his lungs hurt. Maybe he should just stop. Maybe if he didn't breathe, the dizziness would go away.

Then the darkness was once again pierced by harsh shards of light. He screamed, was this some new torture? He saw a black shape outlined in front of the brightness. His uncle had come then, Of course, after all, he had screamed.

"Shouldn't scream, stupid boy, shouldn't scream. Wicked boy."

He winced away from the hands that approached. He was half lifted. Now Vernon would throw him down the stairs. But... hadn't he just been in the cupboard? The hands took hold and started to drag him. He must be going back to the cupboard then. He started to thrash desperately. He couldn't go back there. He didn't want to go back to the darkness. To the madness.

"No," he screamed. The hands wouldn't let him go though. At last, after a few minutes of sickening motion, he was released, and tried to scramble away. He was too weak to stand, he tried to crawl.

Then he heard the hammering. Vernon! Vernon was coming! He was in trouble now. Then he heard an angry voice, and another, the same one that had been with him before. Malfoy. Malfoy was here?

He tried to think, but his head was swimming. He curled back into a ball, and tried to focus on the voices.

"I didn't know what else to do with him. Help him!"

"I will." He should know that voice. It meant something. He didn't think that it would hurt him. "Go to the headmaster, tell him what happened. I'll take care of Harry."

Harry, he was Harry. Was Harry, was Harry, was...

Arms wrapping round him again. Immediately he tried to get away, eyes squeezed tightly shut so that he didn't have to see the piggy eyes of his uncle. Or the red ones of Voldemort. He wasn't sure which were worse.

But the voice... the voice speaking to him was kind. He did know that voice. The voice that called him Harry. But no one knew Harry, he was alone.

This was a dream. He went limp. He had learned that if he didn't fight his dreams they would go away sooner.

He was carried.

He was set down. In someone's lap. Surrounded by warmth.

Not real, not real. He knew that he would be disappointed when he awoke to the darkness again. And the tender mercies of his uncle.

Not real.

But the warmth stayed. And the voice was talking.

"...heard you got a new broom. You'll do even better now. And did you see Weasley's face when he went green? That was very well done Harry. I liked the extra ingredient you added that dyed his hair permanently that colour. Come on Harry, open your eyes. Think about the new potion you were trying. I can imagine a number of ways you could utilise that to make the Weasley boy suffer."

Harry dragged his eyes open.

Snape! Snape was holding him. Snape's arms were round him. Snape's voice....

Severus' voice. Severus' eyes. Full of concern.

He couldn't stop shaking.

"What happened?" he slurred. Everything felt fuzzy.

He was given some water. He was held. He closed his eyes again.

Some while later, "Don't you remember?"

"I thought... I thought I was back at the Dursley's house. It was dark." He shuddered. "I don't... there was a cupboard? Draco was there... I..."

"Shhh. It's all right now. The ones who did this to you will be punished. How do you feel now?"

Harry took a while to try and work out what the mixed signals that his body was sending him meant. "My head hurts."

Gentle fingers probed his skull. He yelped and flinched away when they hit a tender spot.

"Sorry," Severus said. "I think that you'll be fine. No need for you to go to the infirmary."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Neither of them moved. For quite some time. Harry felt weariness overtaking him. So tired. Severus gently laid him down on the couch and covered him with a blanket. Harry heard the door to the bedroom opening and closing a little while later. He drifted on the edge of sleep for what could have been hours or minutes.

But he couldn't let himself fall. Couldn't let go. For he was sure that the darkness was waiting for him. That he would hear the screams. His own screams. He was so weak. It had only been a prank. A foolish joke by some Slytherins. They had bested him so easily. And he had reacted like that. Had panicked. He was damaged. How would he ever be of any help to anyone if he was completely useless in dangerous situations? There was no way that he would ever have managed to defeat Voldemort, had he been given the chance. And Draco had seen it, his weakness. And Severus had seen it. They had hurt Sylrissin. He had let them. Just like Hedwig. He couldn't protect anyone.

Severus had had to deal with Harry's childish problems yet again. He would get tired of helping him soon. What was the point after all? What hope was there, when he would collapse back on himself at the smallest provocation.

He tried to leave. The door was locked. He was too tired to figure out how to open it. Everything was swimming.

He ended up in the bathroom again. Made himself a blade. Held it to his skin. Scraped it, delicately. He shouldn't be doing this. It was wrong. He knew that it was wrong. But it would be so easy. So easy.

But he didn't want to go back there. Remembered the pain. The despair. He felt the despair now. Severus had helped him before. Could help him.

He backed away, still clutching the knife. Out the bathroom door. He turned, stumbled towards the bedroom. Severus. Severus could help him. He was beside the bed. Severus stirred. The black eyes opened.

"Help me. Stop me."

The knife dropped from fingers that were suddenly incapable of holding it, were incapable of doing anything. He noticed that the world was tilting alarmingly.

Then Sev's arms were drawing round him and he was pulled down. He sobbed like his heart was broken, though at first he was not even aware that he was crying at all.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so weak. I couldn't even..."

Fingers stroking through his hair. Quiet murmurings of nonsense in his ear which calmed him. He stopped crying, but did not raise his head from where it was buried in Severus' chest.

"So sorry," he mumbled.

"It's all right Harry, go to sleep. I'll take care of you."

At last he felt safe. And slept.

Flawed Lines - Chapter 16

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