Disclaimer: I do not own anything even remotely close to the Potter empire. I am simply doing this because of an idea that was brought forth by a rather lovelyif not semi-depressingsong and enjoyment of the characters of the Potter series.
A/N: AU-ish. I really don't know how anything ends or who manages to make it there. Please don't review badly for that fact alone (that's why I've helpfully mentioned it was an Alternate Universe...) CHARACTER DEATH, ANGST. There is some insinuated past between Snape and Harry so that they aren't exactly inthe same hate/hate relationship. Don't worry, I don't think I drug it too far off kilter.
Additional: I should not be allowed to play with other people's toys if this is what I do to them...
Playground, school bell rings again.
Rain cloud's come to play, again.
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to.
Hello.
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream.
Don't try to fix me I'm not broken.
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide.
Don't cry.
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping.
Hello! I'm still here!
All that's left of yesterday...
Evanescence 'Hello'
(Per)Version of A Truth
by: Nnif -.-
He woke up screaming. A blood curdling, vocal chord stripping, shrill scream that brought all the attendees of the private wing in St. Mungo's magical hospital sitting upright and screaming in startled reply. Lights flashed garishly outside his door, not that he noticed. His eyes had already rolled back into his head as his body fallen into spasms.
Doctors and Medi-witches flocked through the doorway, shouting orders, casting shielding charms and trying their best to stop the seizure that was gripping the poor young man on the hospital bed. A stout woman with a stern face exited the man's room and pointed harshly at a startled nurse.
"You! Send word, Harry Potter is awake."
When one Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, woke two days later it was again with a scream. Not as harsh as his first, but the blood swelled in his ripped vocal chords and he ended with a whimper and nearly fell into sleep again.
Nearly.
In its stead, he rolled painfully onto his side and curled into the fetal position, weeping into his sweat-damp pillows about something he couldn't remember. A shadow of a man moved through the entry of his room with barely a swish of robes and was soon towering over him.
"Mr. Potter." A familiar voice, though strained and weary. Harry stiffened in reaction, unconsciously doing what he would have had he known whom it belonged to. He couldn't stop weeping though, and only stuffed his face further into the pillow.
"Drink this." A cool hand on the back of his neck. A strong arm pulling him up.
His eyes were too blurry with tears and lack of glasses to make out the face, but the black robes and strong scent of wood smoke on sandalwood reminded him. There was a carefully earned trust that went with that smell, and he drank.
Harry felt drained; tired. The tears that only a moment ago refused to stop would not touch his eyes. Instead they sat heavily on his stomach where he felt them brew and build. Already he was not looking forward to when they would need to come out.
He blinked faded jade eyes and rolled away from the tall man, not wanting to see his face, not yet. "Professor." The word dry and cracked.
There was a shifting of the tall wizard behind him, but Harry couldn't make himself turn over to see what he was doing. His eyes were rimmed in heated lead, heavy and hot. He closed them and felt himself being sucked back into his head, the last thing he heard were Severus Snape's soft footfalls as he left.
Hours later, in the middle of the night when the darkest parts of the sky stood thick, Harry woke again. No screams, not this time.
He struggled to sit up and managed after a time, panting heavily and shaking from the effort. Something had woken him, but he was too confused at his surroundings and the foreign air around him to think about it.
His stomach felt hollow; empty. He paused to think about it, but couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. There was no hunger there, only a void and Harry thought it was odd to feel so empty without really feeling anything.
Noises echoed quietly from down the corridor, hushed voices that tried to keep their urgency a secret from those residents of the hall. With a shaking hand he fumbled for his glasses on his bed stand. A moment later he pushed them onto his nose and groaned softly. Harry struggled and stood, nearly collapsing, only saving himself grievous injury by catching hold of his bed rail. The voices were getting a little louder now and he could hear rushed feet passing his doorway.
He took great, awkward steps to his door and leaned onto the frame to catch his breath. From the small window he could see a medi-witch and three nurses talking quickly to each other three doors down and across the corridor. They were worried, seriously worried about something...or someone.
The group disappeared quickly around the corner and Harry carefully pulled open his door and stepped into the abandoned hall. His body protested loudly about being moved, especially so far from his bed. Harry ignored it and staggered down the hall, trying not to bang loudly into the walls that tended to leap at him from time to time.
The ten second walk took him a full minute. Harry rested his sweating forehead against the cool stone and sighed deeply. His knees threatened to buckle but he ignored them as well.
With excruciating slowness, Harry turned and leaned against the doorjamb, needing to know what the panic was about when the whimpers and groans finally registered in his ears. He shifted and looked into the small window of the private chamber, eyes growing wide.
A man laid there, thick chains binding his wrists and ankles that were anchored to the stone floor. Great steel bars covered the man's window and just beyond it in the pitch sky lay a shining pearl that was the full moon. Another sorrowful moan escaped his lips and Harry stiffened as the head rolled to the side and pained amber eyes bore into him.
A flicker of recognition sparked in them and died just as quickly. Startled, Harry pressed his face to the glass, hand reaching for the doorknob. He stopped and shivered as Remus Lupin howled from within.
The lycanthrope's body twitched and Harry tried to tear his gaze away but could only watch in sick fascination. Silver fur grew in a wave down one arm, only to recede a second later. Ocean waves of grey hide running across the man's body, thick tufts that did not know whether to grow or stay hidden. Bones cracked, shrinking into forelegs and padded feet only to stop midway and revert. Sinew stretched to the point of snapping, muscle contorting, flesh bulging.
The grotesque play went on. Lupin's body not knowing whether to change to wolf or stay as man. A canine's foreleg, human fingers spasming into a fist. Chest caving and realigning, making breathing hard and ragged. Harry sobbed, biting his lip. Remus had his eyes screwed up tight, tears of silver streaking his face and leaking from eyes that were lined first in lashes, now in grey thatch.
Harry watched as a great drop of it ran down the werewolf's cheek, pooling like mercury along the crease of the man's lips only to disappear when those lips peeled back in a grimace.
This time, Harry's knees did buckle and he fell to the floor in a heap. His stomach clenched and he bit back the bile that rose into his throat.
A shadow fell across him and he looked up into eyes of shining onyx. Severus Snape pulled him to his feet and gave him a disproving scowl. Without a word, the dark wizard tugged Harry behind him and back to his room.
Harry stumbled, fighting the nausea that rose again. He sat heavily onto his bed and shook from his exertion. After a moment he lay back and curled around a pillow, eyes detached and staring at the blank white wall.
Snape stood in his doorway, staring down the hall at what could have been Lupin's rooms. Harry shivered as he sweat and reached for his blanket.
"Wha-what's wrong with him?" He asked quietly, voice rough as sandpaper.
Severus glanced over his shoulder to look at him, but turned back again to the hallway. It was quiet for a long time, only the sound of Remus' growls and groans echoing down the corridor made any noise. Harry didn't think Snape was going to answer, but the wizard suddenly drew in a sharp breath and began to quietly speak, almost as though talking to himself.
"He's been shot through with silver. The doctors here have been bleeding it from his system but it has been far slower than they wanted." Snape turned to face Harry's bed. "They hoped to have it gone before tonight, but they didn't."
It was quiet again and Harry could hear Remus' bed creak as the man thrashed around in agony. He couldn't stand to listen and had to fight himself to keep from covering his ears. "When did it happen?"
Severus mulled over the question, sharp eyes scanning for something on Harry's face. "The same night you fought Voldemort." His tongue only stumbling once on the former dark lord's name.
Harry's eyes widened. The terrible, painful nightmares were true then. The screams, the pain, the blood, and the death. He could only barely remember. Sharp, glowing red eyes and a viciously pointed wand. He had been angry, ooh yes, but Harry had been furious hadn't he? ...but about what, he couldn't remember.
When Harry met Snape's eyes again there was a grim satisfaction there in the dark depths. "How many died, Professor?"
Snape stiffened and folded his arms across his chest. Harry supposed it was meant to make him look threatening. Maybe it was the angle he was looking at the professor or maybe the lighting, but it seemed to him that the potions master was hugging himself. "Many."
Frowning, Harry hugged his pillow. "Too many," he whispered.
"Go to sleep, Potter. You shouldn't have been out of bed yet." Severus spoke quietly, eyes once again trained down the hall.
Harry squeezed his pillow closer and tried to relax. Snape looked back in on him a moment later and noted that Harry's eyes were closed. He walked into the room and pulled the blankets firmly over the prone form, carefully took the glasses from Harry's nose and returned to the entry. He shut the door behind him and left, only pausing once to look into Lupin's window.
Harry listened to him leave, surprised at the show of concern for him and the odd concern for Remus. Things had to be bad for Severus Snape to be thoughtful...and that led to another question for him to ponder as he fell into a restless sleep. If Severus knew he was awake others had to know...so where were Ron and Hermione?