Status: VERY active
Fix You
Ten
Harry slammed the lid of his trunk shut, looking around the room to make complete sure that he hadn't left anything behind. His two week stay at Grimmauld place had passed quickly and it was now time for his training with Snape to begin. They were setting off to his new house in a few hours' time and he had never dreaded anything more in his entire sixteen years.
Ever since that night out on the porch, Snape had returned to his usual asshole self. He took every chance that he found to insult him, made fun of his appearance, and had even had the nerve to inform Sirius that he suspected him to be an alcoholic drug addict. Which he certainly wasn't, by the way. He liked drugs and alcohol, he didn't need them. That was the difference.
All in all, he would rather go back to the Dursleys than spend another moment around Snape. That was definitely saying something. He didn't quite understand why the man's recent actions were upsetting him so much. It's not like they had ever been close before. It's not like he had feelings for the man. No, there was no way in hell that could ever happen.
It was just…he had felt this sense of security that night. Just by lying next to the man, talking about their lives and watching the stars. All of his worries about the past, present, and future had gone out the window until it was like they were the only two left on the entire planet. Harry had never felt something like that when he was with another, but it didn't matter. Snape was…Snape.
Harry grabbed his trunk and began heaving it down the three flights of stairs, cursing Sirius for giving him a room on the third floor of all places. He deposited his trunk in the hallway and entered the kitchen where the Snape, Remus, and Sirius were all eating breakfast. He took a seat at the end of the table, selected a tiny piece of toast, and bit into it.
It only took him a few moments to notice that something strange was going on. The usual banter that took place at the table had been replaced with a peculiar silence. Remus had his face in his hands, Sirius had one hand on his lovers shoulder while he massaged his own forehead with the other, and Snape was staring down at his plate as if it were the only object in the entire room.
"What's going on?" He finally asked, clearing his throat.
Nobody made even the slightest movement for a few seconds before Snape finally scraped back his chair, feeling around in his robes for something. He leaned across the table to hand him a folded up issue of the Daily Prophet.
"Hogwarts student found dead in downtown London early this morning"
Harry gasped as he read the headline of the day's newspaper. Who had died now? Oh lord, he hoped it wasn't somebody that he was close to. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before unfolding the rest of the paper, his hands causing the entire newspaper to shake violently.
"Around five thirty this Friday morning, August 14, 2008, a young African American male was found dead outside of a Muggle bookshop. He had been viciously attacked and suffered extensive damage from the Cruciatus Curse. Experts have determined that the attack took place around midnight and the victim died several hours later due to his many injuries. The victim has been identified as Dean Thomas, sixth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a known friend to the famous Harry Po-"
At this point, Harry threw down the newspaper and bolted for the stairs. He couldn't stand to read anymore. He couldn't stand to be around the three men currently occupying the kitchen. He was on the edge of having a mental fucking breakdown and didn't want anybody around to witness to it.
Ignoring Remus and Sirius calling for him to come back, he slammed his bedroom door behind him, placing several locking and silencing charms on it in the process. He picked up a book and flung it across the room. He screamed out and kicked the table. He sent his fist flying into the wall. He felt a few tears slip down his cheeks and didn't bother to wipe them away. This wasn't fair. Dean didn't deserve to die. He was seventeen years old! He was supposed to finish his education, get a decent career, get married, have children. He'd had his whole life ahead of him and now he was dead. He had just seen him at his birthday celebration less than two weeks ago and now he was dead. Gone. Not coming back.
He un-shrunk his duffel back and pulled one of his tiny baggies of cocaine out of the secret pocket built into the side. He pinched a decent amount between his fingers, spreading it out on the bedside table and rolling up a five pound note. He chopped it up a little with his lighter before bending down and snorting the powdery substance up his left nostril. It burned a great deal, causing his eyes to water.
He blinked and rubbed his nose furiously, already beginning to feel the effects. He completely finished his line before pulling out a bottle of vodka and beginning to chug away. The cocaine alone would have been enough for him, but to be completely honest; he just didn't give a shit any longer. He needed to numb the ball of pain that was currently constricting itself throughout his entire body. If he allowed himself to feel, he might just snap entirely.
Time passed with him just staring straight ahead at the wall, not seeing, not feeling, just simply being. After what could have been hours or just a few minutes, he vaguely registered the sound of somebody knocking on the door, but he ignored it. Didn't they understand that he just wanted to be left alone to his thoughts? Was that really too much to ask? He chugged from the bottle once more, his mind sinking in and out of consciousness.
He didn't even realize that his wards had been broken down until a weight sank down on the bed next to him and gently tried to pry the bottle from in between his legs. He held onto it and took as many gulps as he could before it was completely wrenched away from him. He turned to see that bastard Snape banishing the bottle to Merlin knows where.
"Get the fuck out."
"No."
"Leave me alone!" He demanded.
"No."
Fine, if he wouldn't leave him alone then he would just leave the house all together. Maybe he could take a train or bus back to Surrey. He could go to Andy's house. Live there forever. Forget about the magical world and all of his fucking responsibilities. Yes, that sounded perfect.
Harry stood and immediately began to sway back and forth. He stumbled around attempting to pick up his discarded possessions. He had finally managed to pick up his socks and shoes when they were plucked out of his hands. He spun around to tell Snape off, but lost his balance and would have fallen if the other man wouldn't have been there to catch him.
Strong arms grabbed him and pulled him over to the bed. The room began spinning like crazy and he closed his eyes shut tight as he lay down on his back. He felt a hand wrench open his jaw and pour something down his throat. He swallowed in hopes that Snape had taken pity on him and given him more alcohol.
Several moments later it appeared that this was not the case as the room stopped spinning and the room came into clear focus once again. That ass had given him a potion to sober him up!
He jumped up from the bed and rounded on Snape. The other man was leaning against the door, arms crossed and a scrutinizing look on his face.
"You tricked me you asshole!"
"Language, Potter!"
This just pissed him off even more and he could no longer hold in his built up anger. "I don't care! I don't fucking care, Snape! You fucking come in here and violate my personal space knowing I want to be left alone! Then you have the audacity to trick me into drinking a potion to sober me up! It's fucking bullshit! I don't need anyone! Especially you of all people! You could give a shit less about me or the way I fucking feel as long as I'm here to save the fucking world! Just leave me alone! I don't need anybody but myself!"
He finished his rant and went to send his fist flying into the wall again. He needed to get his anger out. He needed to harm his body so he could forget about the hurt inside of his chest. He punched the wall as hard as he could and was going in for a second swing when a strong hand grabbed his fist. He slammed his arm backward, trying to get free. Snape responded by wrapping his arms around his torso and heaving him backward.
"Get off! Let me go you mother fucking asshole!"
He fought desperately to get free, but it was no use. Snape was way stronger than he looked to be. He fought and struggled until he wore himself out, stopping all movement all together. Snape was either shocked by this or he didn't trust him enough to release him yet. Either way, he kept his arms firmly wrapped around him for a long moment. He knew he should be fighting to remove himself as soon as possible, but for some reason he found himself never wanting to move. He felt a weird tingling sensation in the put of his stomach, one that he had never felt before. After a moment, he came to his senses and removed himself to sit on the bed, pushing his previous thoughts to the very back of his mind.
Snape sat down next to him and he ignored him, burying his face in his hands instead in hopes that he would go away. "You do care." He spoke surprisingly quietly and calmly. "You care so much that it's eating you alive. You don't want to admit it, though. You hold everything inside until you explode. You use alcohol as a way of dealing with your pain. You think it's your fault that everybody in your life keeps dying, or leaving, or hurting you in some way. You're sick of being the hero of the Wizarding World. You just want to run away from it all. Don't you?"
All Harry could manage to do through the sobs wracking throughout his body was nod his head yes. He was surprised when a gentle hand began rubbing his back up and down. This caused him to completely lose it. He in turn buried his face into his shoulder and cried. And cried and cried and cried. He cried until there were no tears left, starting to wonder just what the hell he was doing with his life.
Ever since that night out on the porch, Snape had returned to his usual asshole self. He took every chance that he found to insult him, made fun of his appearance, and had even had the nerve to inform Sirius that he suspected him to be an alcoholic drug addict. Which he certainly wasn't, by the way. He liked drugs and alcohol, he didn't need them. That was the difference.
All in all, he would rather go back to the Dursleys than spend another moment around Snape. That was definitely saying something. He didn't quite understand why the man's recent actions were upsetting him so much. It's not like they had ever been close before. It's not like he had feelings for the man. No, there was no way in hell that could ever happen.
It was just…he had felt this sense of security that night. Just by lying next to the man, talking about their lives and watching the stars. All of his worries about the past, present, and future had gone out the window until it was like they were the only two left on the entire planet. Harry had never felt something like that when he was with another, but it didn't matter. Snape was…Snape.
Harry grabbed his trunk and began heaving it down the three flights of stairs, cursing Sirius for giving him a room on the third floor of all places. He deposited his trunk in the hallway and entered the kitchen where the Snape, Remus, and Sirius were all eating breakfast. He took a seat at the end of the table, selected a tiny piece of toast, and bit into it.
It only took him a few moments to notice that something strange was going on. The usual banter that took place at the table had been replaced with a peculiar silence. Remus had his face in his hands, Sirius had one hand on his lovers shoulder while he massaged his own forehead with the other, and Snape was staring down at his plate as if it were the only object in the entire room.
"What's going on?" He finally asked, clearing his throat.
Nobody made even the slightest movement for a few seconds before Snape finally scraped back his chair, feeling around in his robes for something. He leaned across the table to hand him a folded up issue of the Daily Prophet.
"Hogwarts student found dead in downtown London early this morning"
Harry gasped as he read the headline of the day's newspaper. Who had died now? Oh lord, he hoped it wasn't somebody that he was close to. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before unfolding the rest of the paper, his hands causing the entire newspaper to shake violently.
"Around five thirty this Friday morning, August 14, 2008, a young African American male was found dead outside of a Muggle bookshop. He had been viciously attacked and suffered extensive damage from the Cruciatus Curse. Experts have determined that the attack took place around midnight and the victim died several hours later due to his many injuries. The victim has been identified as Dean Thomas, sixth year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a known friend to the famous Harry Po-"
At this point, Harry threw down the newspaper and bolted for the stairs. He couldn't stand to read anymore. He couldn't stand to be around the three men currently occupying the kitchen. He was on the edge of having a mental fucking breakdown and didn't want anybody around to witness to it.
Ignoring Remus and Sirius calling for him to come back, he slammed his bedroom door behind him, placing several locking and silencing charms on it in the process. He picked up a book and flung it across the room. He screamed out and kicked the table. He sent his fist flying into the wall. He felt a few tears slip down his cheeks and didn't bother to wipe them away. This wasn't fair. Dean didn't deserve to die. He was seventeen years old! He was supposed to finish his education, get a decent career, get married, have children. He'd had his whole life ahead of him and now he was dead. He had just seen him at his birthday celebration less than two weeks ago and now he was dead. Gone. Not coming back.
He un-shrunk his duffel back and pulled one of his tiny baggies of cocaine out of the secret pocket built into the side. He pinched a decent amount between his fingers, spreading it out on the bedside table and rolling up a five pound note. He chopped it up a little with his lighter before bending down and snorting the powdery substance up his left nostril. It burned a great deal, causing his eyes to water.
He blinked and rubbed his nose furiously, already beginning to feel the effects. He completely finished his line before pulling out a bottle of vodka and beginning to chug away. The cocaine alone would have been enough for him, but to be completely honest; he just didn't give a shit any longer. He needed to numb the ball of pain that was currently constricting itself throughout his entire body. If he allowed himself to feel, he might just snap entirely.
Time passed with him just staring straight ahead at the wall, not seeing, not feeling, just simply being. After what could have been hours or just a few minutes, he vaguely registered the sound of somebody knocking on the door, but he ignored it. Didn't they understand that he just wanted to be left alone to his thoughts? Was that really too much to ask? He chugged from the bottle once more, his mind sinking in and out of consciousness.
He didn't even realize that his wards had been broken down until a weight sank down on the bed next to him and gently tried to pry the bottle from in between his legs. He held onto it and took as many gulps as he could before it was completely wrenched away from him. He turned to see that bastard Snape banishing the bottle to Merlin knows where.
"Get the fuck out."
"No."
"Leave me alone!" He demanded.
"No."
Fine, if he wouldn't leave him alone then he would just leave the house all together. Maybe he could take a train or bus back to Surrey. He could go to Andy's house. Live there forever. Forget about the magical world and all of his fucking responsibilities. Yes, that sounded perfect.
Harry stood and immediately began to sway back and forth. He stumbled around attempting to pick up his discarded possessions. He had finally managed to pick up his socks and shoes when they were plucked out of his hands. He spun around to tell Snape off, but lost his balance and would have fallen if the other man wouldn't have been there to catch him.
Strong arms grabbed him and pulled him over to the bed. The room began spinning like crazy and he closed his eyes shut tight as he lay down on his back. He felt a hand wrench open his jaw and pour something down his throat. He swallowed in hopes that Snape had taken pity on him and given him more alcohol.
Several moments later it appeared that this was not the case as the room stopped spinning and the room came into clear focus once again. That ass had given him a potion to sober him up!
He jumped up from the bed and rounded on Snape. The other man was leaning against the door, arms crossed and a scrutinizing look on his face.
"You tricked me you asshole!"
"Language, Potter!"
This just pissed him off even more and he could no longer hold in his built up anger. "I don't care! I don't fucking care, Snape! You fucking come in here and violate my personal space knowing I want to be left alone! Then you have the audacity to trick me into drinking a potion to sober me up! It's fucking bullshit! I don't need anyone! Especially you of all people! You could give a shit less about me or the way I fucking feel as long as I'm here to save the fucking world! Just leave me alone! I don't need anybody but myself!"
He finished his rant and went to send his fist flying into the wall again. He needed to get his anger out. He needed to harm his body so he could forget about the hurt inside of his chest. He punched the wall as hard as he could and was going in for a second swing when a strong hand grabbed his fist. He slammed his arm backward, trying to get free. Snape responded by wrapping his arms around his torso and heaving him backward.
"Get off! Let me go you mother fucking asshole!"
He fought desperately to get free, but it was no use. Snape was way stronger than he looked to be. He fought and struggled until he wore himself out, stopping all movement all together. Snape was either shocked by this or he didn't trust him enough to release him yet. Either way, he kept his arms firmly wrapped around him for a long moment. He knew he should be fighting to remove himself as soon as possible, but for some reason he found himself never wanting to move. He felt a weird tingling sensation in the put of his stomach, one that he had never felt before. After a moment, he came to his senses and removed himself to sit on the bed, pushing his previous thoughts to the very back of his mind.
Snape sat down next to him and he ignored him, burying his face in his hands instead in hopes that he would go away. "You do care." He spoke surprisingly quietly and calmly. "You care so much that it's eating you alive. You don't want to admit it, though. You hold everything inside until you explode. You use alcohol as a way of dealing with your pain. You think it's your fault that everybody in your life keeps dying, or leaving, or hurting you in some way. You're sick of being the hero of the Wizarding World. You just want to run away from it all. Don't you?"
All Harry could manage to do through the sobs wracking throughout his body was nod his head yes. He was surprised when a gentle hand began rubbing his back up and down. This caused him to completely lose it. He in turn buried his face into his shoulder and cried. And cried and cried and cried. He cried until there were no tears left, starting to wonder just what the hell he was doing with his life.