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Beautiful Hurts	By : Morosemordant Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 16198 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Beautiful Hurts
It hurts to be thin, it hurts to pretend, and it hurts to smile with loose teeth. Triggering. Eventually HP/SS
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Harry spent the rest of his weekend wrapped in blankets sweating and chilled. Dreams and nightmares haunted the scant hours of consciousness. He twisted away from the phantoms of memory and arched toward the touch of dreams. Upon waking he would spend a few hours talking about nonsense with Ron and Hermione. Anxious as he was to return to dreams of dark eyes and strong agile hands he feared sleep which also brought with it hands of a different nature.
He woke Monday morning at five. Hand found hip bones and collar bones and pressed. He felt skin pull around ligaments and muscle. The young Potter donned a jacket and made his way out of his dorm and down to the kitchens for cold water and a banana. He left after thanking the Elves and started his trek further down into the dungeon. The morning chill made him zip the jacket up and he walked faster to warm his body. He made his way past the Slytherin common rooms and past his Potion Professor’s quarters before he started to tire. He made it two floors below this into the bowels of the castle before turning around and heading back up.
His hair was wet with sweat before he made it back to Gryffindor tower. He peeled his pajamas and sweat slicked shirt off and threw them into the hamper. Harry started the shower. Hot water hit his clammy skin and he sighed.
The brunette spent a long time just standing under the hot water. He ran his hands over bones and invisible bruises and frowned. He grabbed the soap and slicked his hands with the body wash before scrubbing at his skin. He tugged and pulled at his skin until it was red and abraded small pin pricks of blood pulled up to the surface, hands coming away pink from clear skin. Lockhart’s laughter ricocheted thru his skull until he was sure every bit of skin was scoured clean. Lockhart’s chuckles morphed and faded as he washed his hair.
Young boney fingers carded through the black and burgundy silk. He rinsed the soap and enjoyed the weight of his hair at the back of his skull. His thoughts took a distinctively different turn as he imagined.
Bone thin, strong and muscled hands grasped at his hair and pulled his head backwards. The ghost hands were soon joined by the ghost mouth on his neck, and voice in his ear. His cock was grasped in his hand and he pulled almost painfully holding hard and pulsing in his grip. The voice splattered expletives and filthy fantasy across brain and body. Harry was a willing canvas.
When his imagination supplied a husky “Now Mr. Potter” the boy bit his lips and groaned as he came across the shower wall. He washed away his shame from the wall but it remained in his mind. How could he still want a man when they had hurt him so badly.
There is something wrong with me. I must be some sick pervert. He slid down onto his knees in the now cold stream. Tears mingled with water and pricks of blood in the drain. By the time he stood to leave his hands were purpling and felt like rubber. Cold and numb, inside and out, Harry stood in front of the mirror and looked at the stranger his spells had created, exhausted and blurry. He knew today he needed to eat something, too many had heard Hermione’s exclamations the other morning. It was not the best start to his day. Harry was determined to make it a good day.
Harry brushed his drying hair out and braided it for the day, loose curls mingled at the bottom.
It was almost seven in the morning when he finished his shower and dressed. He tightened his tie as the other boy’s alarm spells started to chime and scream. Harry grimaced at the cacophony of noise. He grabbed his satchel and made his way back out of the dormitory, not a word spoken to his friends. The Gryffindor reached the great hall, took a seat and proceeded to pick fruits from the bowls on the table before sitting at a plate. He took his fork and knife and carved up the bounty into tiny bites. He took several bites of everything, ignoring the queasiness that grabbed at his stomach. He ate slowly and chewed everything thoroughly.
“Why don’t you just drink a smoothie Harry, it would surely be faster.” Hermione stated with a half smile. Harry smirked, trying to ignore the anger.
“Well, you know me Hermione, always the hard road.” She grinned and Harry relaxed.
Harry had made it through several strawberries, an orange and some other odd looking fruits before he felt full to bursting. He sipped at water while his companions bantered. He felt tired as he made his way to class in the green house.
“Geez Harry what are you so tired for, you slept all of yesterday?” Harry looked over his hand, which had come up to cover a yawn.
“Don’t know mate, guess it’s just the weather.” Harry was glad for the chilly, cloudy, morning. How do you explain to someone about being tired all of the time, without them thinking something was wrong? How do you tell them you walk for hours just to forget?
Today was a good day so far. Today was going to be a good day, Harry was determined. He sipped on the water slowly. The greasy eggs and bangers hanging out of his friends’ mouth were making him queasy again. He turned to look at the head table avoiding the rows of classmates shoving their faces full and laughing carelessly.
It must be nice.
Harry shivered when his eyes met with the Potions Master. He frowned at the odd look on the professor’s face and turned away. Without much of a word to his friends he packed up his books and started toward Astrology.
Hermione watched him go with an odd glare up at her teachers before following Ron stumbled in her wake.
Astrology went by quietly, they were observing artificial constellations in a classroom; studying for a test the following week. Sinistra droned on in her Scottish lilt. Harry’s hand cramped at the speed of note taking. Hermione was blessedly silent and Ron could be ignored easily in this setting. They exited the class and hurried along to charms. Harry was happy when he heard they were pairing up. He was annoyed it was Malfoy.
Today was a review of dueling along with practice using their other hand. Harry was accused of cheating a couple of times by the Slytherin. He didn’t want to explain that previous broken, sprained, or fractured bones in his right arm were the cause for his ease with his left hand. He was a little surprised that Draco was just as good. Harry supposed that the other boy was looking for an easy victory with today’s topic. They were allowed to leave early due to their performance. Harry left quickly not anxious to meet up with his fellow Gryffindors on his way to the kitchens.
The boy who lived sipped chicken broth slowly, and nibbled at a piece of garlic toast. He was determined this was going to be a good day. He hurried to the bathroom when his stomach ultimately revolted against the idea of two meals in one day. His eyes burned treacherously with tears as he folded over the sink, his body wracked with heaves and trembling. Red eyed and sick sticking to his mouth he saw a familiar smirk fading from Malfoy’s mouth as he walked into the bathroom eyeing Potter looking like hell. Harry glanced back into the mirror and was horrified that his glamours had fallen.
He had to catch Draco. The blond was hurry in the opposite direction toward the dungeon. The Harry’s horror they were headed toward the Slytherin head of house, who was standing at the entrance to his lab as a first year class left in terrified groups. The professor looked imposing, tall, and intimidating as the other boy whispered into his ear. The look he gave harry was one that rooted him to the spot. Unreadable, terrible, and wonderful, Harry shivered at the smolder of something unnamable directed at him in that dark gaze.
“Potter, get in my office if you please.” Draco looked sheepishly at the brunette and back at his head of house.
Really this is the fucking time he grows a heart?
- 4
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- 6
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Beautiful Hurts