“You left me to die!” The words came out in sharp gasps, marred slightly by the ragged sobs being torn from the small body upon the floor. Their eyes seemed to be the only feature unchanged from the previous violence, still vibrant and shining with passion.
They know, of course, that there was no other option. Sacrifices had to made, and in the process, they had to be left alone. Even so, that fact didn’t soften the blow. Especially not the blow of pain that arrived shortly after their abandonment.
“I did no such thing,” was the bleak reply. Neither of them believed the statement. It was clear from the bloody bedding and scars that they had, in fact, been left to die. Perhaps death was not the intention, but they found themselves on their deathbed more than a few times within the year that they were alone.
“You did. You left me, when all you ever did was promise me you wouldn’t.”
Their eyes are slightly obscured now, by the shaggy hair covering their head. It looks as though it hasn’t been brushed in weeks. From the smell of the room, it probably hasn’t been touched in a non-malicious way in a year.
“Say something.” They plead. They’ve shrunken in on themselves a bit, trying to hide the worst of the damage. When all of them is exposed, it’s nearly impossible.
“Harry.”
That’s all he can manage. Harry, upon hearing that name, flinches. Somehow, their proper name hurts them more than the slurs and harmful words thrown at them this past year. It seems too intimate, too gentle to compare to the anger they’ve faced.
Harry manages to spare a glance towards him again. Their eyes scan his frame, no doubt blurry due to his lack of glasses. Where were his glasses?
“Where are your glasses?”
A harsh laugh escapes their mouth. They begin to chuckle manically, eventually beginning to sob. He wants to bend down, hold Harry in his arms until they stop crying. Take away their pain and save them from their own mind.
“M-my glasses! So much time, Severus, and all you can ask about- is my. Is my glasses.”
Severus stares. Harry stares back.
And suddenly, their on him. They have him pinned to the ground, staring so intently into his eyes he has no choice but to look back. They gently, ever so slowly, grab his wand from his hand. It’s been limp at his side since he entered the room. Quiet as ever, they breathe;
“Legllimens”
And Severus is living out Harry’s pain. He’s on the receiving end of hundreds of heatings, of strange men with their hands in his hair, of suffocating, immobilizing fear. Harry is crying in some of the memories, but the ones that seem more recent, they are silent. They do not react to the knife on their thighs, the cane on their back. They are steady, and Severus wants to cry. He wants to cry because the silence speaks of how close to giving up Harry is. How ready they are to let go of hope.
When he’s dragged from the memories, he is sobbing. Harry sits on top of him still, crying as well. They’re sobbing— a deep, heavy cry, attesting to the pain they’ve been holding in. Severus prays, for the first time in what must be a decade, that Harry will never face hardships again. He knows his prayers are futile.
Two hours later finds Severus covered in blood. Not his own, nor Harry’s. When asked what occurred, after being shown Harry’s memories, he shrugs. Severus Snape is not a man who shrugs often, but Harry has made everything seem pointless.
Harry is sitting in a muggle ambulance. Their face is stony, but their eyes show how dazed they feel. Sunlight after a year of darkness is beautiful, or Severus can only assume it would be. He plans to confound the authorities, once he knows for sure that Harry is okay.
Harry’s scar seems fainter, from a distance. Severus can’t help but wonder what that means. Is it a warning, a cruel omen? A sign that no matter what Harry faces, it will only continue to get worse? Or is it a sign of triumph? Something to mark the pain Harry faced and yet again managed to survive?
Severus can only plead with the gods, who hardly listen to him, that it’s the latter. In that case, maybe, they can finally head… home.