Morning struggles
Potter had been here for not more than a day and she was already disturbing Severus' peace. Well he hadn't expected any less from the Girl-who-lived. To be fair, he thought the girl would plain out refuse to go anywhere near Severus, let alone stay with him for the rest of the summer. He was expecting her to put quite a fight. Well, she didn't exactly look happy about the knew arrangements the Headmaster yet again made behind everyone's back, and frankly neither was he. He had better things to do than to babysit a fifteen year old teenager. But when did anything ever go his way?
Severus was aware that Potter experienced a series of traumatic events in the past year that no child should ever go through, and yet she was still there, alive and well. A little bit malnourished if you'd ask him.. Now that he thought about it, Potter always looked underfed, especially at the start of terms.
Why was he worrying over the Potter brat all of a sudden? Their relationship hasn't changed in the slightest. He was still the child's Professor and the only responsibility he had was to make sure the girl was fed, sane, and knows the basics of defending herself from the people who want her dead. It was that simple. It was just for the rest of August and he would be left alone again.
But hearing the girl scream in the middle of the night and later finding her on the cold, wooden floor in a distressed and disoriented state? It was strange. If it were any other child going through what the girl did, would be an understandment. But Potter? The girl was too stubborn, too arrogant to let those events bother her. If anything, she was doing it for attention most likely. Cutting her hair, making herself as small as possible, and those awful clothes hanging like rags off her thin frame. Was she trying to get pity out of everyone? Again, everything the girl does is for attention and-
God, he sounded like his father.
Maybe Albus was right. Maybe he was seeing only what he wanted to see. Witch shouldn't be the case, he was a spy after all. It was his job to look at the small details rather than the bigger picture. Why should it be any different with Potter?
Severus looked at the clock on his bedside table. It read 6.37
The sun had risen over an hour ago, and he was already behind his schedule. He had potions to brew, breakfast to prepeare and Potter to deal with. He hated mornings.
Harry Potter hated mornings.
Every morning, he had to wake up. And with waking up came all the other responsibilities. Like getting out of bed, and feeling sore from the uncomfortable position he slept in. Making his bed, which he never really felt like doing, honestly, why even bother when he'd sleep in it again that night?
Going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking himself in the mirror. The thing Harry absolutely dreaded doing. Once he saw his reflection, he'd stare at it for so long and eventually mute out his surroundings. He wouldn't hear the water running, wouldn't hear an angry bat-looking man with a crooked nose and a rotten personality call out his name from the kitchen downstairs. He'd just stare at the girl in the mirror who looked so much like him. She had similar features like him, had the same dark circles under the eyes. Looked so drained and tired, just like him. They looked so alike and yet so different.
Deep down Harry knew that they were, in fact, the same person. But that thought made him want to rip out his hair and smash the little mirror in millions of tiny glass shards until the girl they reflected was unrecognisable. Until all that was left of her were puzzle pieces so complicated that the picture they made would be impossible to put back together.
Harry gently touched the mirror with his right fist, but didn't make any further moves. His fist just stood against the cold glass on the wall. He could brake it, he could temporarily erace his face from that mirror. He could-
"Potter!" Snape made a move to opet the door but found it locked.
"Potter, I've heard you come out of your room two hours ago, what are you still doing in there?"
On the other side of the door, Harry tensed. Why did the man always seem to find him in these situations?
"Nothing. Sir" came Harry's raspy morning voice and he cringed in on himself.
"Your breakfast is still on the table. I will reheat it for you, but next time you miss a meal, you will have to wait fot the next one. Am I clear?"
Harry opened the door and came standing face to face with Snape.
"Yes, Sir"
Snape eyed him up and down, gave him a quick nod and spun around and went back downstairs.
Breakfast with Snape. Fucking amazing.