Chapter Text
Severus Snape eyes the knotted pink flesh, stretched over the curve of his neck and clavicle, as he methodically buttons the high collar of his white sleep shirt. The collar covers the scars nicely, but he knows they're still there. He can feel the fabric rubbing the sensitized flesh and it makes his skin crawl. He had almost died in that godforsaken shack. He was nearly home free. A debt repaid and a swift death... Was it really too much to ask?
Potter thought so, apparently, seeing as he had come barging back in after his own brush with death to mend the torn flesh and rudely yank Severus back into the land of the living. The meddling brat had disappeared from the limelight soon after, leaving Severus to pick up the pieces of his broken life.
Severus suspected the boy had returned to the home of his late parents in Godric's Hollow. He had heard tales of a man who vaguely resembled Potter cavorting about muggle London, in and out of skivvy dive bars and gay clubs. If indeed it was the young man, he was pissing his life away in Severus' opinion. Not that he was concerned about Potter's well being. Why should he be? The boy had been a pain in his arse far too long. If he wanted to go out and waste his life on drugs, alcohol, and sex... Why should Severus care if the insufferable brat drove himself into an early grave for the second time?
Severus had just settled into bed with his nightly tumbler of whiskey. A new journal, to jot down his latest discoveries of the useful properties found in the venom that had nearly ended his life, lay on his lap. A startling blue shimmer filled the room, and Severus raised his eyes slowly to the apparition of an enormous transparent stag standing at the foot of his bed. He groaned softly, knocking his head back against the headboard. "What do you want?" He asked tiredly. The stag's mouth opened, and the voice that poured out was so broken, Severus sat up abruptly and focused with rapt attention on the translucent beast. "Snape... I need help..."
"Potter! Where are you?" The stag barrels away through the door and Severus bolts from the bed, yanking his trousers on, stepping barefoot into his boots, shucking his sleep shirt and throwing on an old jumper over bare chest. He snags his wand from the bedside table and apparates quickly to Godric's Hollow.
The young man is nearly comatose on the lawn. A bottle of nearly empty whiskey is resting on open fingertips and the boy is... Well, quite nearly naked. Severus hauls the drunken moron to his feet and braces him against his side as he drags Potter into the house. He deposits the boy on the couch, looking distastefully at the array of muggle concoctions littering the coffee table- some loose and a few still in small plastic baggies-, and cuffs Potter round the ear.
"Wake up, Potter! You didn't allow me to go peacefully, and nor will I. Open your eyes, you stupid boy!" Potter just groans and stretches a hand to the table. "Just... Need a... bump..." he whimpers pitifully. Severus slaps his hand away, simultaneously casting a freezing jet of water straight into the face of the drunken fool. Potter yelps and shoots to a sitting position, shaking his head like a dog, and spraying water from his drenched hair over Severus. "What the fuck was that for?" He yells. He glares up at the older man as he grabs a used shirt and pats his face and bare chest dry.
"If you want to be coddled, Potter... Perhaps you should call one of your real friends." Severus picks up a bag of familiar white powder and tweezes it gently between his fingers. "Are you really so ungrateful to all the lives lost for you that you see no problem pissing your own away so... Pitifully?" Harry rubs the shirt over his damp hair and throws it on a pile of ripening laundry. "No one gave a damn when I decided I didn't want to be a poster boy anymore. Even my friends left me to cling to the bit of recognition they got for just participating in the war. Hell, Ginny wanted marriage and kids just to get my name and status. No one cares that I'm really just Harry underneath all that shit."
"Still, wasting away drinking and snorting your meals won't set anything right, Potter-"
"HARRY! MY GODDAMN NAME IS HARRY!" The boy bellows. "STOP CALLING ME POTTER! I'm not my father, no matter how much you want me to be to justify your stupid grudge!"
Severus doesn't even flinch. "No... You are not your father. Even he wouldn't have fallen this far..." What Severus does next, surprises even himself. He drops to the couch and pulls the boy against his chest, ignoring the pungent odor of stale liquor and unwashed skin. "Some scars don't leave their mark, Harry, but that doesn't mean they cannot be healed. The boy fights against his embrace, then succumbs with a sob so shattering, it shakes Severus to his core.
"I just... Want to be... Normal..." The boy- Harry- hiccups and buries his face in Severus chest. The movement lowers the zip of the jumper slightly and Severus feels warm skin press to his otherwise naked chest. "You are normal, Harry. You just had a bad introduction to life. Come... Let's clean you up and get something warm in your stomach, yeah?" Harry allows Severus to lead him to the shower and the older man sets the temperature to a slightly cool spray before helping the young man step in. "Raise the temperature a bit before you get out. You'll catch cold if you don't." Severus places a towel and flannel within easy reach and exits the room to tidy the living area.
Severus dumps the baggies into the basin and pours the various bottles down after them. He sets to a homemade stew on the hob and washes the dishes and cutlery piled up on the counters. He could do it all magically of course, but the manual tasks clear his mind, let him carefully consider how to go about the situation Harry has now put him in. He cannot just leave him to squander away his existence. Harry never asked for anything he was forced to go through. Severus feels a moment of clarity touch the tips of his mind. He has spent so long seeing Harry as nothing more than a second James... He never stopped to consider the real person he had vowed to protect all those years.
The realization is so shocking, so startling, that Severus loses focus one moment too long. "Shit!" He curses as the blade of a paring knife slips and opens a gash just below his thumb.
"Are you alright?" A worried voice pulls him back to reality. Harry stands in the doorway, clean and dressed in gray joggers and a black strap style undershirt. His damp hair is tousled and curling around his ears. Severus draws a fingertip over the cut and checks that it closes properly before sterilizing the tainted countertop. "Fine, just a scratch. Are you alright?" Harry nods slowly and moves to the stove, peering into the pot on the burner. "Smells good." He turns to Severus. "See you've cleaned up." He doesn't specify what exactly is missing. "Yes, and you should as well. Those things are only temporary bandages to gaping wounds, Harry. Defiling your organs won't heal your pain, much as it may seem so." Severus selects two bowls from the clean stack and serves the meal. They eat in silence at the now clean dining table.
Once the young man is fed properly, Severus directs him back to the living area and settles the smaller man in his lap, running a comb through the drying tangled mess on top of his head. "Won't do any good, you know. It's still going to do what it wants." Harry smiles softly at the light tap on the back of his head from the comb. "A vain attempt is still an attempt, Brat." Once Severus is satisfied that Harry is indeed correct about his hair, Severus moves him to sit by his side, and allows the young man to curl into his chest. He wraps a protective arm around the narrow shoulders and leans his own head back against the sofa.
"Hey, Snape?" The soft sleepy voice breaks through his light doze.
"Mmm?"
"I'm glad you're still alive." Severus feels a warm bubble burst in his chest. He smiles slightly and closes his eyes. "Me too, Harry. Me too."