When the Mind Breaks | By : Schwertlilie Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 5113 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
Rain hits forcefully against the darkened window pane of a cottage nestled quietly in a wetland countryside. Only two occupy the house, of which, one is trying in vain to wake the other. A frantic shake and slide of the bed sheets causes Sirius Black to grumble, searching around for warmth with sleepy hand flops.
“ Sirius get up you fool! It’s Harry!!” This has the wizard bolting up into a sitting position, blurry eyes moving quickly around the room. Remus is busy grabbing two robes, tossing one to him before pulling on his own while racing out the door. Sirius doesn’t bother putting on more than crumpled sweatpants, flinging the other article of clothing about his shoulders before pounding madly after his lover. Close to taking a headlong dive down the stairs a couple of times the dark haired man is shocked to stillness as he reaches the front hall flooded in light. He stares as the other man carries in the almost unrecognizable form of his trembling godson.
It takes a hot bath to clean away the mud coating the boy’s whole body, a heating spell to keep him safe from hypothermia, a pair of dry clothes, a healing spell and a calming potion----since Harry had been crying so hard he’d started to cough blood----before either man can make sense of what happened.
The younger man snores softly in his sleep, wrapped up in a blanket between the two men, all warming themselves on a comfortable couch in front of the fireplace. Remus looks tentatively at Sirius over the boy he loved like a son’s head. He’d expected angry shouting, death threats or at least the obvious glinting in his eyes that he’d explode later when Harry was feeling better. But throughout Harry’s explanation and even now Sirius looks contemplative and more than a little sad. As if feeling the other’s gaze the dark haired man turns to him and sighs.
“ I‘ve done something terrible Remus.” Remus looks confused, tipping his head towards Harry.
“ No.” A shake of dark hair glistens orange in the firelight. “ Last week when Severus came to give you your Wolfsbane he found Ron’s letter on the kitchen table.” Remus sighs as he remembers clearly the contents of aforementioned letter.
Dearest Harry- The other day was an experience I’ll never forget. I cannot tell you how much it means that you would do that with me. And that night was the most erotic thing that I’ve ever done and it’s because of you. I can only hope each and every time will feel this way and that you share these same feelings. Don’t let Severus come between what we could have together, I think we make an incredible pair. I’ll owl you when I’m in town next month, please say we can do it again.
Harry had shook his head at his friend’s melodrama. “ All we did was go kayaking and then went to a co-ed strip club. I know Severus doesn’t approve of either of those activities, don’t tell!”
“ It had been such a long time since I’d seen Harry so happy. I knew what Severus thought and I didn‘t correct him, but I didn’t know it would turn out like this…”
“ I left it on the table for him to find.” Remus whispers. Sirius turns with wide eyes to the other man. “ I wanted him to have a taste of what it felt like to have his lover spending so much time with someone other than him.” The men look at each other.
“ Marauders till the end.” The dark haired man finally breathes, Remus nodding his agreement.
“ We have to tell him the truth tomorrow. Severus needs to know the truth also. God this is all my fault.”
“ No.” Sirius states firmly, holding up a hand to stop Remus’ protest. “ This is Draco’s fault.” The other man had almost forgotten the heir to the Malfoy fortune.
“ Christ, you’ve seen Harry and that greasy git together. I’ll probably hate him till the day I die, but they love each other more than anyone I’ve ever met! James and Lily, me and you----there’s just so much more there none of us can touch upon. They would have had a chance to be happy together if…”
“ If Draco had never come into their lives.” Remus finishes. Running an unsteady hand through his hair he replays the few months before in his mind. It was two years after the war before the two men met up again in the most likely of places, Hogwarts. Harry had been one of a select few guests asked to talk to the students about the war. Remus wasn't quite sure how, but the men began corresponding after that and not a month went by before Harry had proven to be a true Gryffindor by blurting his love for the other man, and against all odds his affection was returned in full. They'd only been together for eight months, and only the last three of those spent living together in a house they'd bought before Draco had turned up. No money no house and Severus had convinced Harry to take him in for just a while. Neither Sirius nor Remus had thought it a good idea to have the boy in their godson and his lover’s house when they were still trying to get used to each other. Harry had said it would only be a week or two and then Draco would be on his way.
Their Godson had explained to them Draco had crawled into bed with them one night while they’d been---well---and now they had begun a "sort of threesome thing", as a blushing Harry had put it. Of course Sirius and Remus had been furious. What gave Malfoy the right to push into Harry’s relationship? Harry had smiled and said he didn’t mind if Severus didn’t mind. But they could see the veiled doubt, depression, and jealousy in the younger man’s eyes. They’d mutually agreed not to interfere, Harry was old enough to make his own decisions whether or not they hurt him. Remus had thought during that time Sirius was going to apparate to the house and rip both Slytherins from end to end.
Instead they both watched as Harry grew more distant from everyone, saying he was trying to concentrate harder on his painting, but the two men knew the truth. Could see the mounting depression. Severus seemed to notice as well, but being a solitary man by nature and unable to read Harry like the other two could he shrugged it off and said the day was bound to come when even Harry Potter grew up and became a mature man.
Remus remembered one night when they had all gotten together. Draco had joked that while he and Severus spent so much time together working on potions the only time they saw Harry anymore seemed to be for sex. Remus had blanched at the audacity of the blond and Sirius had grit his teeth, fury blazing in his eyes. Severus had been too busy smirking at Sirius’ face to notice Harry staring at the floor, a sheen of wetness across his eyes and Draco grinning at the be-speckled boy with apparent malice in his sneer. Remus, true to his promise not to interfere, took Harry aside later and only asked if he thought he was handling himself okay.
“ I’m fine really! I wish you two would believe I can handle this.” He’d growled
“ It’s just you’re so young Harry, this is all new,” Remus tried to placate. “ and you and Severus haven’t been together for very long. A third person can put a big strain on a situation like that.”
“ Its just sex with Draco, Remus, something new and exciting. Severus and I have discussed it. We still make love by ourselves and neither of us touches Draco unless the other is there. Besides its only temporary, Draco is talking about getting an apartment. It’ll be over soon and things will go back to normal.” Remus had bit his lip, he’d heard the uncertainty in the other’s voice. There was a fear there that they both couldn’t seem to escape, but he hadn’t known what else to say to the young man. Draco had already been living with them almost four months and their one-year anniversary was a week away, maybe things could still work out.
That conversation had been exactly one week ago tonight.
Tonight he had smelt the despair permeating the air, heard the cries of what sounded like a dying animal all the way outside the front door. He’d come out of his sleep, senses on alert even though he knew only certain people could get through their wards. Even in his half asleep state he could smell Harry, and realized they were his cries. Only after they’d given him the calming potion was the young man able to explain in an almost dazed state the happenings that led him to walk---run actually---the twenty five miles to their cottage in the pouring rain and sleet. After, he’d passed out in exhaustion.
Harry had gone out that morning to Portakey almost across the country to the only place close enough that had the paint he favored; Life Paint. After the war Harry hadn’t known what to do with his life. He ‘d taken to long walks around wizard villages, seeing how people lived day to day. One day, while walking along a dirt path on the outskirts of Hogsmead he'd met a man who greeted him with a calmness that compelled Harry to stay and talk with him. The man was a hermit and had no idea who Harry was and the young man had taken the rare opportunity to have someone listen to HIM and not everything he represented. After they’d talked for half the day the man had pulled out a few packets of paint, one brush and a piece of slate.
“ Paint me what you see when you close your eyes.” And Harry had followed those simple instructions. Put his fear, his anger, his hopelessness and weariness for life onto the shabby piece of slate. The relief he’d felt when he was done was euphoric and, looking at the older man he had found the other crying in joy.
“ My boy, you’ve no idea what you’ve just created, do you?” Harry had shaken his head dumbly. “ That paint, its Life Paint! A wizarding paint that allows an artist’s feelings to flow into it and give off its own life force for others to feel. Most Wizards can’t even use it! And those who can have to use it for years before they can speak to the paint and the paint can understand them!” Harry had been dumbstruck, staring at the simple canvas before him. He stretched his fingers over the still tacky colors and gasped as they seemed to shiver and an echo of his depression ran through him. “ See that! The paint responds so easily to something inside you! My boy, you have one of the greatest gifts I could ever live to see!” The hermit had crowed.
“ Can you----speak to the paint?” Harry had asked, still moving his fingers, feeling different emotions coming from different places.
“ Yes. Though I had to give up my whole life for it, and let me tell you a secret.” They’d leaned closer together then, Harry smelling the used paint and wildness on the man.
“ A true artists knows that creating art that can truly, truly change the ideas and attitudes, calm the fear and chaos of the masses…well, that is more than worth a life.”
After that day Harry had visited the old man almost everyday and together they painted in near-silence, needing no words as their brushstrokes and colors spoke thousands of languages more than a voice ever could.
Because it was extremely difficult to find Life Paint, Harry had to go to great distances to buy it, the making of the paint an art all in itself. It was too precious and too personal to just buy any old bottle, it was like buying a wand. Only certain paint would suit him and he’d walk aisle after aisle, look at hundreds of boxes just for one color. He made his own canvas and brushes, realizing after a year of painting he could communicate better with the paint this way. He was part of them and they were all part of the whole that is art. He’d been painting everyday for three years.
He’d gotten to the designated place, but the wizard with the Portakey had informed the shop he was to travel directly to had been broken into the other night and was closed for the rest of the week. Harry had been upset at first, but remembered Draco was going to be gone for most of the day, maybe he and Severus could celebrate their anniversary early. Taking a detour into a nearby village he’d bought an expensive bottle of his lover’s favored wine. At the time it had been a beautiful day so the young wizard had decided to walk the half hour to their house and scope out possible places for his next work of art.
The dark clouds had finally gathered and the wind had begun to pick up when Harry reached the house. Putting the wine in the cabinet just in case they didn’t drink it right away he went in search of his dark haired lover. Hearing sounds from the shower he’d decided he would just surprised Severus. He’d nudged the door open quietly, taking a moment for the fog to clear so he could see properly into the open door of the shower.
Draco had been leaning forward, face pressed to the slick back of the taller wizard, his hips twisting back and forth, both men moaning loudly over the pounding of the hot water. Neither men had been facing him and though Harry’d known then he should have left, he couldn’t. He’d been floating outside of himself, unable to control his movement or stop the clenching pain in his chest. Through strangely blurry eyes Harry had watched Draco thrust a few more time before he shuddered and let his body rest heavily against the other man. Harry had just stared, watching the aftermath of an act he’d never been privileged to. Severus had been an uke virgin.
“ That was incredible.” Draco had attempted to growl and chuckled a little. “ I can’t wait until he leaves, then we’ll be able to do that whenever we like.”
“ Yes.” Severus’ panting breath had uttered. Harry’s knees quaked.
“ Let’s just tell him and let him leave, why drag this on any longer than it has to?” Draco reached up then to run his fingers through Severus’s damp hair, which for some reason increased Harry’s inability to see.
“ Do you love me Sev? Love only me?” Harry had started at the pet name…Sev...no, Severus had never let him…he’d never been allowed…
“ Yes, of course.” He’d…he’d never….
And that was when Harry had come crashing back into himself and had run. Neither rain nor the fact he had no coat nor shoes had stopped him from barreling headlong across the countryside. A few times he’d fallen in puddles, spilled down hills and run through the sharp burrs of sticker bushes. By the time he’d gotten to Sirius and Remus’ he hadn’t been able to feel his body anymore. He knew he had bruises on almost every appendage and multiple cuts were bleeding profusely. He hadn’t let either man heal any wounds, only clean them. He didn’t know why, but he wanted them. They were a physical form of his shredded, broken heart and somehow they kept everything dizzyingly clear. But as he fell asleep his depression, which had developed its own voice, had whispered to him.
“ See. He spends so much time away from you because he wants someone else. He doesn’t love you, he never did he never will----you were just a way to kill time while he waited for someone else to come. All you have is a talent that scares people, paintings that can hurt so much people are afraid to go near them. All you do is hurt and destroy, no one can love you….he’ll never love you….”
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