Please read this before proceeding: This is a Rated-M Snarry (SS/HP) fanfic. I own none of the characters: they belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros Entertainment.

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Peace,

-Jen

The Snarry Shipper

Quenched

He couldn't believe his eyes. Merlin, who would?

Who would believe this?

Harry stood wide eyed, his mouth agape. He clenched both his fists in balls, cold and trembling.

"I…I'm sorry…I…" The twenty-five year old babbled on.

Severus Snape couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

It wasn't because he was frightened—no, he was incapable of being afraid of Harry James Potter. He'd saved his bloody arse too many times for that.

Nevertheless, as he stood across from the boy—no, the man—he corrected mentally…it seemed that there was no emotion to describe what he was feeling.

He wondered why he always ended up in peculiar situations, yes indeed, that was certain. But this one with Potter was on another level of absurdly. And why was Potter always involved whenever trouble came about?

Snape had no time to ponder anything else—his head was spinning already, and his mouth felt dry as he gazed upon the floor. His eyes were drawn to the large dead rabbit, with blood stains on its neck.

He looked back up at Harry—whose gaze was so boyish, so innocent, as if he hadn't just sucked the life out of a healthy living creature.

Snape's gaze pierced Potter's—and Snape noticed that Harry's lips were quivering as if he were that sixteen-year-old he once knew quite well—but neither men knew what to say.

Potter, dressed in all black—a worn leather jacket and unkempt black denim pants—stepped closer. Snape fought himself not to step back. He almost did.

The silence was deafening.

"How?" Snape rasped, hardly even sounding like himself. Potter jumped at the roughness of Snape's voice, and at his question.

"I…when I was an Auror." Harry said, continuing softly, "No one…erm…knows. I killed him, after he…" He trailed, looking off to the side. Ashamed to meet my gaze? Snape pondered, truly baffled. Had the boy—man—forgotten that he'd followed the Dark Lord himself?

He waited to finish Potter's sentence until he looked up again.

"…After he turned you." Snape finally finished, without malice. Potter appeared as surprised as Snape at how genuine the older wizard sounded.

Potter's eyes appeared shiny from afar. He nodded. "I—I don't want to be like this…" He looked away from Snape again, rubbing his left cheek with his sleeve.

Snape had no idea what to do, let alone say. He just witnessed a vampire killing an animal. The Boy Who Lived, living among the dead? He thought, dripping with irony and sadness.

He could think of only one thing to ask, before continuing.

"Have you ever—"

Harry cut him off. "No, of course not." He sniffed. "I…survive from animals."

Snape gulped inaudibly. Potter just fed, so perhaps there would be no temptation for his instincts to override his willpower…

"Look—I know what I am, okay? I know I'm a monster. Even more of a freak than I already was." Potter snapped with anger.

Snape furrowed his brows. Surely he has more confidence than this…since he himself defeated the Dark Lord?

But as Snape looked into that emerald gaze before him, he saw a scared young man trying to hold himself together.

And it was in that moment in which he was reminded so much of himself—a reflection.

Snape gulped and stepped closer.

"I can help you." I must help you. He thought, silently wishing that someone would have helped him all those years ago—before he had gotten the dark mark.

No, he would not let this continue. Not with Harry.

Potter shook his head. "I deserve this. I deserve to be cursed, Professor."

Snape could hardly believe this was, in fact, the same Harry Potter who defeated the Dark Lord—and who had saved Snape's life, at that. If he hadn't healed his wounds with the blood-replenishing and poison-reducing potions, which were admittedly excellent batches—they had to be if they were to work with Nagini's poison in his bloodstream, Snape wouldn't be standing here.

And yet…he thinks he is unworthy of assistance? Snape thought, He certainly doesn't believe he's above anyone…

"I don't deserve your help." Harry muttered, hanging his head low. "Besides, you've already saved my pointless life…Merlin knows how many times."

Is he insane?

"Potter, don't be ridiculous!" Snape snapped at him. "I admit, you and I have a…long history of…disliking each other—" He was cut off by Harry's loud snort, though he ignored it. "…But I know you well enough, Potter."

Harry snapped his head up to look at him again with a confused look on his face. I suppose that's true, he thought.

Snape continued, "I believe, like most traumatic incidences in your life, that this experience was not your fault."

Harry gasped. "You do?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Am I wrong?"

Harry shook his head vigorously, "No! No, but—"

"Contrary to what you might believe about me," Snape gestured, "I may be a cruel man, and a dark wizard at that, but I refuse to let…" He paused, a little put-off by Harry's facial expression. The boy was smiling.

Does he…care this much? Harry questioned.

"What is it, Potter?" He sneered.

Harry dropped the smile from his face. "Nothing! I mean…it's a little shocking, is all. I…erm—I can tell you're serious."

Snape's face tightened. "Good." He let out a sigh. He was glad he didn't have to explain further.

Harry cocked his head to the side. "So…there's a…cure? A potion, maybe."

Snape shook his head wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not yet."

Harry looked deep in thought, slowly looking up at the man again. "Y'mean…you would…do that for me?" He sputtered, "You'd do that?"

Snape sighed in agitation. "Yes." I forgot how damned frustrating he is. Snape rolled his eyes.

Harry broke Snape's thoughts, "It'd never work." He muttered lowly.

Snape stepped closer. "I cannot make promises I cannot keep, Potter, but if there is a chance..." he trailed.

Harry had a gleam in his eyes. "I—I have no idea what to say." He smiled. "You…erm…" He blushed but turned away and cleared his throat. "I mean, thank you. It's just…" His face looked troubled.

"Just what, Potter?"

Harry sighed. "I'm always on the move. There's no way to contact or find me…and if I haven't fed…I don't want to be tempted to hurt you, if you do happen to find me, I mean…" He looked ashamed again.

Snape nodded. He figured Potter would say something along those lines. "All right. You may stay with me, in my quarters at Hogwarts." He said without emotion.

"What?" Harry blurted loudly. He couldn't help it. Snape wants me to live with him?

"You'd let me…" Harry trailed.

"It would be safest this way. I could even perform blood transfusions from animals, so you can feed. I assume that once you've fed, you won't be tempted for a few days time?" He was genuinely curious.

Harry nodded, still in disbelief. "Five days is my limit, after I've had…a couple of rabbits. Before I start to lose my sanity. I've always managed to isolate myself—find a forest with animals, but no people."

Snape nodded. "I realize I am most possibly the last person you'd want to live with—"

"I accept your offer!" Harry interjected, cutting him off.

Snape closed his mouth in surprise. Harry blushed. "I trust you." He added quickly.

Snape raised an eyebrow and nodded curtly. "Alright then, Potter. Grab my arm." He held out his arm to Harry.

Harry walked toward him. Snape finally could see him clearly—he truly did appear pale. It made his green eyes look striking against his skin. He watched Harry's Adam's Apple bob in the moonlight—the boy's forehead was sheen from sweat, and there were a couple of obvious tear-streak-stains underneath his eyes. But when he looked at his mouth…there were no visible fangs. Perhaps they retract? Snape wondered silently.

Harry was tentative in his movements, as if he were afraid of losing control. Ironic, Harry thought, almost sniggering aloud, I'm worried about hurting the man I once hated…I wonder if he still hates me?

Harry eyed the man—still tall, dressed in an all-black robe with a million tiny buttons.

The question, Do you still hate me, felt so loud in Harry's mind, Snape might have even heard him—he was always reading my mind for Dumbledore…

Harry pinched his eyes shut, stopping himself from thinking that far back. He couldn't. Every time he did, all he could think about was how many people died for him…

Needless to say, he hardly rested.

He sighed aloud, muttering underneath his breath.

"Potter?" Snape said, feeling concerned. It was so strange to feel concerned over Potter—it was something he hadn't felt since the war.

He looked up, his green eyes piercingly bright. "Why are you helping me, Professor?"

Snape let out a breath. "Just come with me, Potter. At some point, you're bound to make a mistake—one you can't take back." Harry eyed him suspiciously in response. Snape paused, then continued, "I'd rather not let that happen to you."

Harry paused, a bit stunned. I'd rather not let that happen to you.

It rung in his ears, over and over, causing a wave of emotion to ripple through his body. He wasn't sure what it was, but it felt…different. Then again, he thought, I haven't been around anyone for so long…

Yeah, he reasoned, that has to be it.

He finally felt himself stepping forward, holding his breath before shakily touching Snape's black-sleeved arm. Snape didn't move as Harry grabbed on more tightly. Snape didn't seem to notice Harry's pink-tinged face in the darkness as he wrapped his arm around Snape's well-toned one. Snape was simply glad the boy finally came to his senses. The last thing he needs is more publicity. He could see the headlines already: The Boy Who Lived, now a Bloodthirsty Vampire.

Snape shook his head clear of his thoughts, and apparated them in front of Hogwarts' gates—the closest they could travel, since no one has the ability to apparate into Hogwarts.

The walked at a somewhat quick pace into the castle. Snape didn't say anything about Potter clasping his arm on the way to his quarters, but it did seem strange that he didn't let go after apparating.

He let the thought go, and the two men carried on in silence.