Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bound by Blood (and Faith)	By : wlkellogg Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 20387 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
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Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: Thank you guys for your reviews and ratings! You're awesome! I love you all! Please keep it coming! Still nothing super juicy this chapter, but it is coming, I assure you.

Chapter 5

Slightly muddled voices intruded on the darkness in Harry's head, trying their hardest to drown out the pounding inside his skull. Harry groaned and reached up slowly to make sure his head was still in one piece. One voice cut through the buzz of background noise. “He's awake, Albus.”

Snape... Harry tried to open his eyes and look toward the sound of Snape's voice, but the room spun when he tried it. The spinning tried to convince his stomach to empty itself and Harry whimpered. The rustling of robes told Harry that someone was close to him.

“Harry? Can you hear me, son?” The voice was unfamiliar and Harry frowned. A glass circle was pressed to his lips and he tried again to turn his head. The room spun wildly and the hand holding the glass circle refused to relent. “Come on, young man, drink this. It will help.”

Harry pressed his lips tighter together and shook his head. A hand slipped under his head and tried to hold his head still. Just when he was afraid that he would have to drink whatever it was that the stranger was pushing on him so he could breathe properly, a familiar and welcome voice broke in. “Enough. Let him breathe. He doesn't know what it is, and, surprisingly, he's smart enough not to take potions from strangers. Give me that vial.”

The hands moved away from Harry and he felt tears of relief as he took a deep breath to satisfy his screaming lungs. A weight settled down on the side of the bed and another hand lifted his head from the pillow. “Mr. Potter, the inspector is correct. This potion will help clear your head. You should drink it. It will not hurt you.”

At Snape's suggestion, Harry's lips parted and he let the Potions Master tip the contents of the vial into his mouth. The mixture tasted awful, but at least it did what it promised. Harry opened his eyes slowly, ready to slam them shut again if the room tried to dump him on the floor. The scene that greeted him was almost enough to put him in a compromising position. As it was, he felt a stirring low in his stomach when the room came into focus. Snape was sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, still holding his head steady with one hand and the empty vial in the other. Harry swallowed hard, but didn't move to put more space between them. “Th-” He had to stop to clear his throat, which seemed to be packed with cotton suddenly. “Thank you, Professor.”

Snape straightened and looked up at the inspector. “You see, he is much more cooperative if he knows what you are attempting to feed him.” Looking back down at Harry, he gave the barest hint of a smile. “How do you feel now, Mr. Potter?”

Harry nodded. “Better, sir.” To illustrate the point, Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position. Snape nodded and got to his feet shakily. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when the older man moved back to his bed and sat back down. Dumbledore stepped closer.

“Harry, this is Inspecter Childar. He's with the Ministry of Magic and he would like to ask you a few questions. Is that alright?”

Harry stiffened and looked up at the portly inspector. Dumbledore held up a hand. “Now, don't worry, Harry. You're not in any trouble. He's just here to try to figure out what happened to Professor Snape. Please, try to answer his questions.”

Inspector Childar took that as his cue and stepped forward. “Hello, young man. You want to be helpful, don't you? Of course you do, you're a smart young lad. Thank you, Headmaster. If you could just wait outside. This should only take a moment.”

Harry didn't miss the pointed look that the inspector gave Dumbledore when he started to object to leaving one of his students alone during an interview. Whatever it meant, Dumbledore didn't seem willing to argue with it. Harry squirmed a little as first Dumbledore, then McGonagall left the room, closing the door behind them. Inspector Childar took out his wand, but before he could cast a privacy charm, Snape held up a hand.

“If you don't mind, I'd prefer to hear what the boy has to say. I assure you, I have no reason to coddle him. I am not his head of house, nor is he one of my particularly shining students. I will not interfere with your discussion, I wish only to listen.” Snape's tone did not brook any argument, though the inspector looked about to refuse. A raised eyebrow from Snape was enough for the inspector to relent and he put his wand away.

“If you insist, Professor Snape. I do ask that you keep any comments to yourself until after the interview.” Without waiting for a response from Snape, the inspector turned to Harry and looked him over. “You should know, young man, this is an official inquest as to the events that lead to Professor Snape's accident. Before we begin, is there anything you would like to disclose to me regarding your relationship with the Professor?”

Harry stared at the man for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”

“If there is anything you are hiding from me, you should be aware that I am very good at my job and I will find it. Now, I will ask you again, young man. What is your relationship like with Professor Snape?”

“He's my Potions teacher.” Harry replied, purposely avoiding direct eye contact and keeping his answers short and to the point. He had no reason so far to trust the man, but he didn't want to prolong this by being vague. The inspector frowned.

“How do you get along with Professor Snape?”

“He doesn't particularly like me, but then again, he doesn't particularly like any Gryffindor student. He's Head of House for Slytherin,” Harry answered truthfully.

“Have you ever had occasion to fight with him?” The frown was turning into a scowl very quickly, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care about that.

“No.”

“So you've never fought with him?”

“I didn't say that. You asked if I'd ever had occasion to fight with him. He never gave me a good reason to go out of my way to fight with him.”

“You've never had a public altercation?”

Harry's stomach knotted as he realized that the inspector was digging for information on the semi-public rejection of Harry's gift. “Would you please just ask the question that you want to? This beating around the bush crap is making my head hurt.”

“Alright then. Tell me about what happened on Friday last.” The question was phrased and delivered as an order, but still, Harry resisted.

“It was a school day. I had classes, like normal. I took an extra credit project to Professor Snape's office. He was busy with something else, I guess and in a bad mood,” Harry explained with a shrug. “He told me not to bother him, and I took my project and left. That was the end of it.”

“Was it? I have heard testimony that you fought with the Professor during class on Friday. Is that true?” The inspector asked with a grin that told Harry that he thought he was getting close to something damning.

“I don't remember fighting with him. I may have disagreed about the way he graded a paper, but I don't think that counts as a fight. And yes, that was the end of it. After classes, I went home. I have a pass that lets me apparate home on weekends. I got back this morning,” Harry responded, still guarded. He did not like this line of questioning at all. It made it sound like he had sought out Snape to hurt him because of a poor grade. His heart and mind both screamed at the idiocy of that theory, but he forced himself to remain calm.

“And did you stay home the entire weekend?”

“Yes.”

“Did you entertain at all? Maybe catch a movie? Go out to dinner?”

“No. I stayed in all weekend. Why?”

“Anyone who can confirm that?”

“No, I... I live alone. Again, why?”

“So, what you're telling me is that there is no one who can vouch for your whereabouts for the last three days, correct?”

“I guess it is. Unless you take the testimony of owls?”

“Very funny, young man. Now, what did you do all weekend while you were at home alone?”

“Not much. Worked on my memoirs. How was your weekend?” Harry asked snidely. There was no reason he should tell this perfect stranger that he had spent the weekend sobbing because the man he truly loved had told him he never wanted to see or hear from him again.

“Lets stay on track, son. Just one more question. What were you doing down in Professor Snape's office before I arrived?”

“I wanted to see what happened,” Harry replied softly.

“Now, you've already told me that you don't really get along with Professor Snape. Why on earth would you go down there if not to try to cover something up? Did you go down there to look at the mess you had made? Maybe to see how to improve next time?”

“What? No!” Harry exclaimed, unconsciously leaning forward and fisting the blankets in his denial. “I have no reason to want him hurt!”

“And what about dead? You very nearly killed him. Did you know that?”

“And that's enough. Inspector Childan, you may leave now. Mr. Potter may not be my favorite student, but he is not a murderer. You have no reason to suspect him of such,” Snape cut in before Harry could answer. Harry looked over at him, unable to disguise the gratitude he felt for the interruption. The inspector opened his mouth to protest Snape's input. “No. He has answered each and every one of your questions. You will stop badgering him. He needs his rest. You saw the state he was in when he was brought here. If you push him back into that state with this line of questioning, your superiors will be hearing about it. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Professor. Though I resent the implication. Enjoy your rest, young man. I will be in touch,” Childan intoned as he stood and left reluctantly.

Harry started shaking before the door closed behind Childan. Tears rolled down his face and he turned away from Snape, trying in vain to hide them. Snape didn't say anything for what felt like ages.

“Listen closely, Potter, as I will only say this once. The way you handled those questions was impressive. Now dry your face and try to pretend that you were not just reduced to a sniveling pile of snot by that eel.” Snape's words were gentler than Harry had ever heard from him. Quickly wiping his eyes, Harry turned back toward him. “And about Friday...”

Harry caught his breath and waited for the older man to continue. He wanted more than anything to explain what he had meant that night, but he didn't want to spoil Snape's desire to talk.

“I was not... I should not have overreacted. I should not have said what I did. It is rare that I find myself in a position that requires apology, but I find myself in such a position now. Obviously, I did not intend for our exchange to be public.” Snape's apology was simple, it could barely be called an apology, and didn't recant any of the hurtful things he said, but it did make Harry feel a little better. He nodded acceptance of the apology and took a deep breath. Snape waited with a patience bordering on anxiety for the boy to say... something. Of course, he didn't really expect him to say too much.

His conversation with Dumbledore before Harry woke up came back to him. The boy says that he has feelings for you, Severus. Please be careful with him. That couldn't be right. It just couldn't be. The boy was a pain, he was James' son, for Merlin's sake! James, the bane of his childhood, the one who had stolen Lily from him. The boy was his father's doppelganger, both in appearance and attitude. How could he have any real feelings for him? It was just a ridiculous school-boy crush. It had to be. He had suspected the boy had preferences that tended toward others of his sex, but this was insane.

And then there was the matter of the scrying potion. It had been blocked, but he wasn't sure that Harry would have been able to hide his involvement if it had been him blocking it. And that had been his third attempt. The two before it had both led him directly to Harry, as if he was the key to revealing what charm had been worked on him without his consent. But any charm that the boy would be able to cast should have been simple enough for him to detect and identify easily enough. This charm had been much, much more complex and had been worked with something much darker than anything Harry was capable of, unless he was grossly misjudging the Gryffindor boy.

Harry had lay back against his pillows and closed his eyes. He was starting to fall asleep. Apparently, there would not be any response to his apology at the moment. That was understandable. The boy would probably be working through what he had said. And it gave him more time to think on his own. He still had no idea why the scrying potion had exploded. It had to have taken a great deal of magic, and dark magic at that. But why had it connected to Harry? What possible link was there between himself and Harry bloody Potter? It had taken three attempts to get even that much information from the spell, even though he had been trying everything he knew to make the spell work. His heart stopped for a moment when he contemplated the possibility that he had been compromised and that Voldemort had ordered him killed. But if that was the case, how was he still breathing?

The cruel words he had shouted at Harry on Friday came rushing back with more than a full dose of guilt. What if the crushed look in the boy's eyes had been real and not some elaborate act? The possibility tugged at Snape's conscience. It was worsened by Harry's possible crush on him. The thought that James Potter's son had a crush on him was laughable, but he couldn't bring himself to inflict the pain of dashed hopes on anyone, even if it was James' son. He knew what it felt like to have his heart broken. Even if he could hurt James' son, he could never hurt Lily's son. He wouldn't be able to look into Harry's eyes, Lily's eyes, if he crushed the boy. He made a note to talk to Harry again in the morning and get him to talk about it.
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Bound by Blood (and Faith)