His Reflection

By Sarafyna

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are not mine. Boohoo.

Chapter 7: Strength

Severus nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the silent alarm go off in his head. He had been waiting for it, yes, but the anticipation had just added to his surprise. He attempted to stalk to the living room, but gave up and broke into an uncharacteristic run. There, lying in the middle of the floor was what seemed like bundle of bones. Oliver.

Without pause, the Severus levitated the boy into the guest room he had once occupied during his last visit. Lips set in a thin, worried line, he assessed the damage. There weren't as many outer injuries as he had expected, but it looked as if Oliver hadn't consumed anything, food or drink, for a long while. In fact, he thought angrily, the boy probably wouldn't be alive if not for his innate magic working hard to sustain him. What he didn't understand was why Oliver had held out for so long before activating the portkey.

"Damn that family of his and damn the stubborn brat," he muttered under his breath as he summoned the necessary potions and began to work.

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Oliver woke up feeling like he was floating on a cloud. "Am I in heaven?" he wondered, not realizing he had spoken aloud until a sarcastic voice answered.

"I highly doubt it, boy, unless I'm supposed to be the angel."

Oliver's eyes snapped open, staring straight at the smirking face of his savior, for the second time. He considered the long greasy hair, prominent nose, and black robes for a moment, then pictured the man in a flowing white dress, feathery wings, and a halo. He sniggered.

Professor Snape mock glared at him. Then his face turned more serious.

"Now, will you explain why you thought you were in heaven in the first place? Did I not tell you to use the portkey whenever you needed assistance? Not—I might add—in order for me to conduct your burial rites."The man's dark eyes bored in to Oliver's light blue ones.

Oliver bit his lip and lowered his head.

"You looked like you hadn't consumed anything for days. It might have been too late." The boy had to know how dangerous his little stunt had been. "How long were your bloody relatives planning to starve you?"

"Seven days," Oliver murmured. "They went on vacation. My uncle said I could last seven days without water."

He jumped as the Professor's fist suddenly smashed down on a nearby table. "That pitiable excuse of a man," he seethed. "Seven days is for a healthy, grown adult, and even then it is horrific. If it weren't for your innate magic aiding you, you would have been dead!"

Oliver cringed at the anger emanating from the man. Snape saw this and closed his eyes, calming himself with effort. "Why," he said in a lower tone, "didn't you come sooner?"

"It had been so long," Oliver said softly, "I wasn't sure if it had all been a dream. I wasn't sure if the offer still stood. If I only trusted myself, only relied on myself…yes, things might be bad, but at least I wouldn't be disappointed." He looked up at the Potions Master with a bitter look in his eyes. "That's the worst thing—being offered hope, then having it snatched away."

Snape knew Oliver's feeling; even now he himself had problems with trust. He coughed embarrassedly, then said gruffly, "Well boy, at least now you know that you can trust me without being disappointed."

The boy gave him a crooked smile. "Thanks."

The Potions Master began tucking him in, then stopped and looked at him curiously. "What finally made you use the necklace?"

Oliver blushed. "I couldn't really stand it any longer. You could say it was a moment of weakness, I guess," he muttered.

Snape's lips tightened. "That's not true," he murmured. "I understand it is because of pride that you held out for so long, only relying on yourself. Pride is important, yes, it gives us spirit and reason to fight on. However, what use is this if you lose your life?" He looked at Oliver intently. "Sometimes you have to give up your pride in order to live, in order to continue fighting on. Sometimes the act of giving up your pride is an act of strength."

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Severus Snape sat next to the slumbering boy. His mind filled with past memories that this Oliver had dredged up. Days of spying, days of licking the feet of the Dark Lord that had been his master (and in some ways still was) even when his pride screamed at him to kick the bastard where it hurt and damn the consequences. But no, he sacrificed his pride so he could live, sacrificed his pride so he could repay his sins, so he could seek revenge. Yes, he thought sardonically, sometimes the very pride that helped him stand when he in the lowest of lows was a hindrance indeed.

Author's Note:

Gah...wasn't too satisfied with this chapter. I've been a bit stuck as to what to write for awhile, and figured I'd just post what I had been working on. Short, I know. Sorry. With school and all---so earlyyyyyyyyyy in the morning everyday................