Snapetober Day #4 - Exhausted
It weighs down on days where the students’ brews are particularly bad, or when he catches Harry doing something dangerous.
Which is far more often than Snape would prefer.
A wilting shadow after every sleep, feeding on the nights he’s wasted being awake, relishing from the hours gone without rest.
And when he’s alone, safe in his quarters from the eyes that are willingly concerned, he lets it strengthen its hold.
Just one more step, so very close to the bed. Naked feet staggering shamelessly on the bare floors.
He falls, this time. He expects a visit to Madam Promfrey the next morning.
Somehow, Harry is there. Away from the feast, ignoring Snape’s request.
“Madam Promfrey will kill us both, if you hit your head,” he says, a hint of…concern in his voice behind the humour, “I still have an evil wizard to defeat, you know?”
“You shouldn’t mother your father,” he slurs, words lost like his thin frame under the blanket, “I’m the one… I look after…you…”
“And I make sure you survive the night,” Harry pulls the blanket under Snape’s chin, pulling the words from his mouth before he can speak with a kiss to his forehead, “Goodnight, dad. Until next time.”
The shadow sleep, until next time.