Light on the Dark Side of Me

Title: Light on the Dark Side of Me
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
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Light on the Dark Side of Me
Chapter 27: It didn’t even come close

(Day 7)

After their argument, Snape didn’t say another word to Harry all day and Harry felt rather guilty about his behavior. For once he had been the one to overreact and lose his temper. Severus was clearly suffering and he had snapped at him and told him he hated him. Harry told himself that he shouldn’t have been surprised by Severus’s refusal to sleep together. Harry had just been so frustrated that the man he had once been intimate with could not stand the idea of now being in bed with him – even under completely platonic circumstances. But, after having spent the better part of the day thinking it through, Harry realized how rational, in fact, Severus’s reaction had been.

Severus had been through an unimaginable ordeal that had taken advantage of their already precarious relationship. And now Dumbledore had thrown them together in this unsettling arrangement that forced not only their coexistence, but had also made Severus aware of Harry’s nightmares – nightmares he was responsible for, nightmares that had strained their already volatile rapport. Harry couldn’t imagine how difficult this must be for Severus and wondered if perhaps there was a way he could make things easier on the already overwhelmed man.

Having finished his reading for the day, Harry interrupted Severus’s work. “Severus, can I use your lab to make a potion?”

Snape raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise, “Are you trying to get out of this arrangement by giving me a heart attack, Potter? Because you very nearly succeeded,” Snape said dryly. “What potion?”

“I’d rather not say…it’s a surprise.”

“You expect me to let you brew anything you want. How daft do you think I am?”

“It’s not dangerous.”

“What’s the base?” Snape asked.

“Belladonna leaf and mandrake root.”

Snape furrowed his brow; both plants were poisonous in only moderate amounts. “Do you actually suppose that that base inspires my confidence or do you really have no idea what poison you’re concocting?”

“Uhmm…” Harry replied in confusion and then began shuffling through his notes, hoping to find the answer there.

Snape sighed at how pitiful the boy could be at times, and asked helpfully, “How many milligrams of belladonna does your base require?”

“Uhmm…” More shuffling. “Just under five.”

Snape did a quick calculation in his head, and assuring himself that no dangerous potions could be made at that concentration, he replied, “Go ahead.”

This time Harry could not conceal the surprise on his face.

“Ahh… so you were jesting with me, Potter.”

“No, I was serious. I just didn’t think you would let me.”

“Well I suppose I’m just full of surprises today then,” Snape drawled.

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Two hours later, Snape made his way into his workroom to find Harry bent over a simmering cauldron. Harry called out to him sharply, “Don’t come any closer.”

But from across the room, Snape’s eyes widened when the faintest whiff of what Harry was brewing hit his nostrils. “Of all the insolent things…”

“What?”

Snape shouted in growing fury, “You’re making an aphrodisiac, you little arse!”

“No, I’m not,” Harry denied.

“That’s what’s in your cauldron right now – belladonna leaf, mandrake root, nettle leaves, yarrow root and wood rose. What were you planning? To slip some into my drink as some sort of sick joke?” Snape’s eyes widened in horror as another possibility occurred to him. “Or perhaps you were planning on calling it to the Headmaster’s attention after your little trick, so that he could excuse you from my perverted influence.”

Harry picked up his notebook and hurled it at Snape, “You’re the arse, Severus!”

As Snape turned on his heel and began making his way to the door, Harry called out sharply, “Don’t you walk out on me!” Seeing that Severus was still walking away, he shouted frantically, “I’m making an anti-aphrodisiac.”

Snape stopped abruptly. “Oh.” The two potions were made almost exactly the same way. “What the devil for?”

“For tonight. So I can sleep with you. And before you say anything…if you don’t want to do it for yourself, then please do it for me. After you sat down next to me last night, I actually slept, without any more nightmares. Please, Severus…” Harry added desperately, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Snape said nothing.

Harry continued, “And if you say no that means I went through all this trouble for nothing. And making potions isn’t exactly my idea of fun, as you well know.”

“And this potion is for?” Snape asked hesitantly.

Harry looked a bit uneasy as he replied slowly, “I’d just be more comfortable if…”

“Ahhh…if I took it,” Snape said with some vexation, “I see.”

“No,” Harry corrected, “if I took it.”

“You?”

“Yes, I just thought you wouldn’t let me stay without it and this way there is no question about my intentions. I wanted them to be absolutely clear.”

“I see,” Snape said in a carefully toneless voice.

It wasn’t that Snape had been hoping something might happen between him and Harry – on the contrary, the idea was wholly overwhelming and quite frankly, frightening. But he couldn’t help feeling some sense of bereavement at Harry’s words – words that cemented the end of their relationship, that reminded him that things could never be the same again.

“Are you done being mad at me because I need your help with these last steps, otherwise I’m going to end up with the exact opposite of what I’m trying to make. This is so confusing,” Harry said, crinkling his brow in frustration.

Snape cast Harry an amused look and made his way over to the cauldron, muttering, “Perhaps if you had been paying attention at any point last year, it wouldn’t be.” Then he added in his professorial tone, “Now tell me, Mr. Potter, why is it that anti-aphrodisiacs are made by initially brewing an aphrodisiac?”

Harry’s eyes widened in desperation, “Oh no! You’re going to turn this into a lesson, aren’t you?”

“But of course,” Snape drawled, an amused smirk on his lips.

Harry consulted his notes for a long moment, and then replied, “Because there is no anti-aphrodisiac agonist. So you need to make the aphrodisiac agonist first so you can prepare its antagonist, which then serves as the anti-aphrodisiac.” Harry let out a long breath, clearly indicating the level of concentration required of him.

A flicker of amusement entered Snape’s eyes and he said, “It seems that you are not completely without hope when you actually put that mind of yours to some use.”

Harry smiled. He could tell Severus was impressed with him.

A moment later, Snape added, “Now, explain all of that again…in your own words this time. And watch the way you’re cutting up that root!”

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A few hours later the potion was completed. Despite the fact that Harry was actually learning quite a bit from his one-on-one Potions lesson, as it had become, he found that he was actually enjoying himself. Severus’s passion and excitement for Potions, even for something relatively mundane for a man of his skills, had distracted him from the reason Harry was brewing it in the first place.

And somehow, the fact that Snape was helping Harry with the potion served as his silent assent to Harry’s plan to stay with him that night. Why he had agreed he did not know. Snape told himself it was for Harry. And maybe it was in part, but really it was for him. Not for the nightmares – he did not expect those to get any better. But Snape found some small measure of forgiveness in the fact that Harry was willing to sleep with him after what had happened between them, especially given Harry’s own recurring nightmares.

“When should I take the potion?” Harry asked.

“It lasts for 24 hours, so you may as well take it now.”

“How much?”

“15 milliliters should be more than enough,” Snape said, handing Harry a tablespoon.

“Are you quite sure?” Harry asked mischievously

“Behave yourself,” Snape said lightly.

Harry gulped the potion and started coughing violently.

“Not very pleasant, is it?” Snape asked. Snape then took a shot of the potion as well. Staring into Harry’s surprised eyes, Snape said, “I think it’s only fair that I do the same. After all, I wouldn’t want you to worry—”

Harry prevented Snape from finishing that statement by placing his hand on the other man’s arm. “Stop it. I was never worried.”

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The last (and first) time Harry had been in this bedroom was under much less pleasant circumstances – horrible ones in fact. But still, standing in the middle of Severus Snape’s bedroom in his pajamas was decidedly awkward.

Snape, apparently noticing Harry’s discomfort, couldn’t suppress a grin and said, “You need not stand in the middle of the room, Potter. You may lie down if you wish.”

As Harry made his way to the oversized bed, he noticed several potion vials and a bottle of scotch lying on the bedside table next to what was clearly Snape’s side of the bed. Also lying there was a gold ring with a red-stone that seemed out of place in this comfortable yet unornamented room. Harry was about to ask about it when Snape began extinguishing the room’s candles with a wave of his hand.

Harry stopped him before he snuffed out the last. “Can you leave that one?” Harry asked, and winced inwardly at how infantile he sounded.

“Surely.”

As Snape moved towards the bed, it was his turn to feel ill-at-ease. He squashed the feeling, climbed under the sheets, and said a silent thank you for having bought such a large piece of furniture.

As the two men lay on opposite sides of the bed, with about three feet of space separating them, both their gazes were trained intently on the ceiling.

Harry interrupted the long silence that passed between them with his frustration, “Damn I miss that Draught. How are we supposed to fall asleep exactly?”

“Eager for more pleasant dreams, are we?” Snape asked.

“They’re not all like you think, you know. The one I had before, which you didn’t walk in on, I dreamt that he had you and he was going to kill you and I couldn’t save you.”

“Have you become that attached to me?” Snape asked as sarcastically as he could muster, intentionally belying the seriousness of his question.

“More than that,” Harry replied honestly.

Snape fidgeted a bit, uncomfortable with Harry’s answer. What on earth did that even mean, Snape wondered. It doesn’t matter, Severus. Tell the boy to move on.

“You know, once the term starts, you should to start dating. Merlin knows you’ve been cooped up in the dungeons for too long.”

“You’re giving me dating advice now?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Not advice per se. Even I know my limitations,” Snape replied, then added, “And don’t take it to mean that I’m making assumptions about your attachment to me.”

“Of course not,” Harry said with sarcasm.

“Brat. I just think it would be wise for you to get out a bit. A boy your age – you should be having sex as frequently as you can manage.”

“Sounds good,” Harry said with a smile on his face.

“Hmff.”

“So do you have any suggestions?” Harry asked playfully. He was beginning to enjoy this conversation.

“What?”

“Suggestions…about who I should go after? I mean, if you had your pick.”

“Potter!!”

“Sorry. I meant hypothetically…if you were a student here. Don’t take offense. I won’t say anything.”

Snape thought for a moment before speaking. “Well, I would say that dashing boy from Ravenclaw, Geoffrey, stands out.” Why are you letting him lead this conversation, Severus?

“Is that so?” Harry asked mischievously. Oh, this is just too good!

“Not for me, you idiot. You should ask him out.”

Harry could barely contain his excitement. He spoke as nonchalantly as he could, “Been there, done that.”

“Is that so??” Snape asked with legitimate surprise.

“Yup.”

“And precisely when was this?” Snape asked. There was a tinge of something in his voice. Harry was straining with all his might to interpret it as jealousy.

“After we…ended, I took your advice about finding an outlet for my adolescent hormones, as you put it.”

“I see.” Damn it, Severus, you sound like a jealous schoolboy.

And this time Harry heard it.

“We didn’t do much at all, Severus,” Harry was quick to explain.

“I didn’t ask if you did. It is none of my business.”

It is your business, Harry thought. “Maybe, but I want you to know. I kissed him and he kissed me. And he tried to do more, but I stopped him.” A few moments later, Harry added, “Aren’t you going to ask me why I did it?”

“Because you were horny, no doubt.”

“No. Because I needed to know.”

“Know if you like men?” Snape asked.

“I already knew that. I needed to know what it was like…with someone else.”

Silence.

Harry continued, “And it didn’t compare. It didn’t even come close.” A few moments later, Harry rolled over on his side and said, “Goodnight, Severus,” leaving an absolutely stunned Severus Snape lying wide awake beside him.

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Harry had just fallen asleep when he felt Snape jerking wildly beside him. Harry sat up and placed his hand gently on the man’s shoulder, attempting to rouse him. Snape bolted up in the bed, wand in hand and sent a bolt of fire in Harry’s direction. Harry managed to duck to the side in time and looked wide-eyed at the now scorched door jam. Harry averted his gaze back to Snape who appeared equally as confused.

“Severus, put down your wand,” Harry said calmly, not sure if Snape was still half-asleep or not.

The man looked down at the wand in his hand and reluctantly put the wand down, releasing it from his grip. He heard Harry breathe a sigh of relief.

Harry snapped at him, “You might have told me that you sleep with your wand under your pillow!”

“Doesn’t everybody?” Snape asked seriously.

“No they don’t! My God, you nearly killed me!” Harry shouted.

“Stop being so dramatic – I might have singed your hair a bit, that’s all.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

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The fourth time Harry was jolted awake by Snape’s screaming, it took Harry nearly a full minute to wake the man up. He was kicking and flailing in the bed, and his body was twitching violently, almost as though he were undergoing the Cruciatus curse. After finally managing to rouse him, Harry reached over and placed his hand on Snape’s arm, in an attempt to sooth the man back to sleep. He was astonished to find that Snape was trembling uncontrollably.

“Dear Merlin, Severus, is this what it’s been like every night? No wonder you look so horrible.”

Between his hitching breaths, Snape managed, “Thanks. And no, not every night.”

Somehow Harry understood, “This past week then – since I’ve been here? It’s gotten worse, hasn’t it?”

No answer. A long silence stretched between them.

“I don’t believe this sleeping together solution of yours is working,” Snape said flatly.

“Well, it’s working for me. No nightmares – you’re not giving me a chance to properly fall asleep,” Harry replied.

“Maybe you should go then.”

Harry spoke quickly, not wanting Snape to get the wrong idea, “No. I didn’t mean it that way. I was trying to be funny.”

“Oh…is that what that was?” Snape asked dryly.

“Seriously, do you want me to go? Am I making it worse by being here?” Harry asked.

A long pause and then a reluctant whisper, “You’re not making it worse.”

Snape voice was soft, so needy, Harry couldn’t resist. Lying back down, he took Snape into his arms, pressing his chest against Snape’s back, and held him as tightly as he could. Snape’s trembling stilled abruptly. He was clearly startled by the contact, but he remained silent, and soon thereafter was asleep again.

Harry was surprised to note that at this very moment he was indescribably glad that he had brewed and taken that potion. He had done it for Severus, but now, lying here in bed with him, he realized how nice it was to be able to hold this man, smell him, be so close to him without the pressure or distraction of sex looming over him. With a deep feeling of contentment in his chest, Harry found himself dozing off as well.

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Over the next few hours while lying awake in between Snape’s episodes, Harry had a sudden revelation. Thinking about the severity of Severus’s nightmares he suddenly remembered something he had overheard Madam Pomfrey telling the Headmaster while he lay in the hospital wing at the end of his fourth year recovering from one of the most harrowing experiences of his life, Voldemort’s resurrection. She was discussing his nightmares with the Headmaster and mentioned something that they should watch out for. He didn’t know what she was referring to at the time, but he had later asked Hermione, who always seemed to know a little bit about everything, and she had explained it to him.

And now, thinking back on the sketchy details, everything seemed to fall into place for him. He didn’t understand why it hadn’t occurred to him before. Well he knew why…it was because it was Snape. He got up from the bed as quietly as he could, wrote Hermione a note and sent it with Hedwig. He hoped she’d be back in the morning with his answer.

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The next two nightmares were particularly bad. Snape woke himself up with his own screaming and once awake, he was shivering uncontrollably, completely soaked in a cold sweat. Each time, Harry dried him off with a quick spell, warmed his nightshirt and then snuggled up behind him.

Snape found himself clinging desperately to the solid warmth pressed up around him. It was a new feeling to have someone there after his nightmares – and it was strangely comforting. And in a bizarre way, the fact that it was Harry made it even better.

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(Day 8)

When Snape made his way into the sitting room the following morning, he found Harry had already ordered breakfast and tea for the both of them. Snape plopped into his armchair, exhausted from the night’s ordeal. Even though he hadn’t gotten any more sleep than usual, he found that Harry had been right about the calming effects of having someone else there in between his nightmares. The pair chatted quite amicably over breakfast and Snape noticed a smile on Harry’s face.

“What, pray tell, is so amusing?” Snape asked.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken this long without insulting each other.”

Snape forced himself to take a bite of his biscuit and said dryly, but with clear amusement in his eyes, “The morning is still young.”

A moment later, Hedwig flew in and landed on Harry’s thigh. Harry reached over and untied the small piece of parchment from her leg, and petted her head as he began to unfold it.

“What’s that?” Snape asked.

“Oh nothing,” Harry said nonchalantly. “Just a note from Hermione asking how I am.”

“Does she know?” Snape asked.

Harry lifted his eyes from the paper with wide eyes before realizing that Snape was asking an entirely different question.

“Oh you mean about me being in the dungeons? No.”

“Well, I don’t suppose she would,” Snape said and made his way to the bedroom to get dressed.

Harry returned his attention to the paper.

‘Harry, here is the information you requested. I hope everything is all right. Hermione.’

Harry continued to read: ‘Post-traumatic stress disorder occurs after a traumatic or shocking experience.’ Well that certainly fits, Harry thought. Snape had had two, but it seemed that the bizarre changes in the man’s behavior had begun after the second encounter with Voldemort. Perhaps after the first ordeal, the second had pushed him over the edge.

Harry began reading the list of symptoms, and everything seemed to fit: changes in eating and sleeping habits, nightmares (oh my, yes, Harry mused), flashbacks (which would explain Severus’s suddenly distant, dazed behavior at times), irrational avoidance of the trigger object (that would be me, Harry thought, and is definitely true), irritability (how can you tell? Harry wondered), emotional numbness (also impossible to tell), drug or alcohol abuse (hmm…), denial (no doubt whatsoever) and violent, sometimes uncontrolled outbursts of anger (well, Harry thought, that would be an understatement).

It all made sense. Granted this was Snape and one had to figure for his severe personality, and the countless other difficulties he had to face. But, Harry mused, this explained a lot of his behavior of late. Dumbledore was coming see them tomorrow for a New Year’s Eve dinner in the dungeons, and Harry decided he definitely needed to speak with the Headmaster about this. As Harry finished reading the brief blurb Hermione had attached, he found it odd that part of the treatment often involves the person confronting the traumatic experience head on through exposure to the trigger object.

Perhaps, Harry mused, Dumbledore really knows what he’s doing after all.


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A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter ----and for all the encouraging words.

I am not a medical authority on PTSD and I am not using it to explain the whole of our complex Potions Master. That being said, Post-traumatic stress disorder is a serious psychological disorder that affects millions of people every year. Over 5 million Americans will be affected by it this year. FMI: www (dot) nmha (dot) org / reassurance / ptsd (dot) cfm

I love this whole sleeping together thing and i hope you do too! Isn’t this why magic is awesome? So you can have two men who want each other (maybe!?) sleep together and not have the obvious happen!

We’re starting to encroach upon the ending...a few more chapters left! So it appears that the ice is finally beginning to thaw between these two. In the next chapter, set the next evening, the two men lapse into alcohol induced conversation and Harry works very hard to get Severus to finally open up. Is that possible? And more importantly, will it be enough? This next chapter is one of my favorites....so don’t miss it...

Please leave your comments.......love hearing what you’re thinking