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Past Scars- Ch. 7

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Chapter 7


Severus stared down at him in a state of shock, his heart feeling as if it was being torn in two from those four words. He shook it off quickly, reaching over again, “May I touch you?” he asked softly.

Harry shook his head, “No, I don’t like you. Your eyes, they’re not kind.” he whispered.

Snape’s eyes narrowed, “Please, Potter?”

Harry looked away, “Go away, I need to go far away, I need to follow my orders.” he mumbled absent-mindedly.

Snape seated himself on the edge of the bed, “What orders Harry? What were they?” he interrogated.

Harry looked back at him blankly, “I need to stay away until I’m needed. Can you help me go far away?” he asked innocently.

Snape shook his head, “What do you mean, ‘go far away’? Are you going to find someone? The Dark Lord?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.

Harry instantly bolted up, “The Dark Lord is dead.” He monotoned.

Snape’s brows furrowed, his mind deep in thought, ‘There is obviously something going on mentally, but physically he’s perfectly normal…it has to be the Imperious Curse…but I thought he was immune to that?’ He got up sharply, striding briskly out of the Hospital Wing. He had to research this, there was something missing and he was going to find out what it was.

Snape slouched tiredly behind his desk, his chin resting on his palm. To the first years he was teaching it looked as if he was staring to find a single mistake in any one of their potions, when, in all truth, his mind was two floors up in the Hospital Wing, thinking about a certain brunette who still showed no sign of recovering from whatever ailed him.

He had been up countless nights, researching all the possible causes for Potter’s memory loss and lack of enthusiasm or assertiveness that Gryffindors were so renowned for. He had found nothing, no spells, no potions, nothing.

Snape was snapped out of his reverie when he heard the tell-tale sound of a potion boiling over. He got up quickly, rushing over and pushing the young Hufflepuff boy out of the way, vanishing the potion before it exploded.

He glared ominously down at the quivering boy, “Mr. Winkle, are you that inept that you can’t even complete a simple Pepper-up without trying to kill the rest of us unfortunate enough to be around you?” He asked harshly, the lack of sleep finally affecting him.

The boy looked close to tears, not even able to give an answer without his voice cracking.

The Slytherin’s across the room snickered softly, “He said Winkle…”

Snape whipped around and glared daggers at them, his own House, effectively silencing them, “If you have time to fool around in my class then you aren’t working hard enough! I want a 5-foot parchment on proper behavior in a Potion’s classroom, due tomorrow. Dismissed!” he hissed.

The students looked at the clock; they still had another half-an-hour till class was truly over. They fidgeted, not sure what to do.

Snape snapped at them again, “I said dismissed!” he shouted. The class emptied out quickly.

He collapsed into his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers, “I can’t last much longer like this…” he whispered.

“Like what, my dear boy?”

Snape looked up swiftly, watching as Dumbledore walked into the room, “Morning, Albus.” He muttered politely.

Dumbledore nodded his head slightly, sitting down in one of the vacated chairs, “What is troubling you, Severus?” he asked.

Severus sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair angrily, “Potter.” He mumbled.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily for a moment before fading out, “We are doing all we can to figure out what’s wrong and to find a cure. There is nothing you need to worry yourself over.” He murmured soothingly.

Snape shook his head harshly, “It’s not that. I know that we’ll find a cure, we have to,” he paused, realizing how much he actually needed to hear those words, “it is the fact that even with his memory of me gone, he still hates me, his whole being hates me.” He whispered.

Dumbledore speculated a moment before speaking, “Maybe, it has to do with the fact that you rejected him?”

Snape tensed, looking away instantly, “That is a possibility, his body would remember the last emotion he felt about me before his memory relapse.” He muttered, “Do you have any theories, Albus?” he asked suddenly, thinking that maybe it was the reason he was here in the first place.

His hopes were crushed instantly when Dumbledore shook his head, “Then what do you need from me?” he asked warily.

Dumbledore waved a hand over to the door, Snape following his movement when he paled instantly.

Harry stared at him meekly from the doorway, his hands fumbling with the sides of his hospital gown, “P-Professor…” he whispered. With his eyes cast downwards, Harry made his way into the classroom, stopping to stand next to the Headmaster who patted his shoulder appraisingly.

Snape’s eyes hardened, and nodded his head stiffly, “Mr. Potter.”

Dumbledore chuckled and finally answered Snape’s previous question, “Well, Severus, I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind sharing your quarters with Harry for the time being. Poppy has become increasingly busy with patients and needs the space.”

Snape shook his head instantly, “No. I know what you are trying to do Albus, and I won’t take part. He can stay with any of the other professors; he can even stay with you. There is no reason that he should have to stay here.”

Harry shifted awkwardly on his feet, “I…I would like to stay with you…” he muttered, wincing as if in pain of saying it aloud.

Dumbledore clapped his hands happily, “Well, since that’s settled, I’ll have the house elves move Harry’s belongings into your chambers and I’ll personally redecorate the place to suit two people. I’ll let you two converse for a while.” He got up and exited the room quickly, not giving Severus the chance to retaliate.

Snape groaned, staring tiredly at the now frightened teen, “Potter, calm down. I’m not going to do anything.” He admonished softly.

Harry nodded his head quickly, sitting down in the chair that the Headmaster vacated. He stared at his hands in his lap, an uncomfortable silence falling over them.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Snape broke the silence, “Why did you agree to stay with me?” he asked, the thought bugging him.

Harry looked up at him quickly before looking back down, “I…I don’t know, really. Professor Dumbledore said that I had lost my memory of certain people, you being one of them. I figured, maybe, if I stayed with you, that it would help me recover them faster.” He explained.

Snape closed his eyes, “Do you remember anything? Anything at all, about me?” he questioned, opening his eyes to read Harry’s face.

Harry closed his eyes, thinking, “No, I only know that I was hurt by you, my heart hurts every time I try to remember…”

Snape nodded slowly, “So a clean slate…” he muttered to himself.

Harry jumped up when Professor Umbridge’s voice sounded from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face, “Harry! My dear, I heard what had happened to you, and daresay I was shocked! Do you still remember me, dear?” she asked, a falseness in her voice that Snape caught.

Harry moved quickly to the far corner of the classroom, as far as possible without physically phasing through the wall itself, “I, I remember you…Professor Umbridge.” He stated quickly.

Her smirk grew, “Good, good! Now, I went and spoke to Madame Pomfrey and she says that you have been released from the Hospital Wing. Is that true?”

Harry nodded slightly, “Well, I am sorry to burst your bubble, but we’ve another five days of detention to get through before we can finally be rid of each other.” She exclaimed happily.

Harry looked away sadly, remembering bits and pieces of their last detention. He couldn’t remember the important parts, only that it was extremely painful and terrifying. He trembled involuntarily.

Snape got up from his desk instantly, walking over to the teen and touching his shoulder, “Harry?”

He shied away, “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, “Is there anything else you need me to do?” he asked Umbridge submissively.

Professor Umbridge thought for a moment, before glancing at Snape, “We can speak tonight during our detention. Well, good day.” She left quickly.

Snape stared at the doorway before looking down at the brunette, “Are you going to be okay?” he asked. Harry nodded once again,

“I’m sorry that I keep pestering you…” he apologized.

Snape exhaled tiredly, ruffling Harry’s hair, “No need. Now, let’s see how Albus is doing in destroying my home.”

They made their way to the basilisk statue, Salazar smiling down at them, “Well, well, Severus. It seems the little Gryffindor brat is back for some more rejection.” He snickered.

Snape glared up at him, “Shut up, Salazar!” he hissed, “He doesn’t remember me.”

Salazar snorted, “You obliviated him? That isn’t very becoming of you Severus, albeit it’s a very Slytherin thing to do.” He chuckled.

Harry frowned, “He didn’t obliviate me…I lost my memory a couple weeks ago.” He defended softly, “He wouldn’t do that to me…”

Salazar grinned from inside his portrait, “And how, daresay, would you know that if you don’t remember him?” he countered.

Snape interceded, “That’s enough! Harry, ignore him. Devil’s Snare!” he stated quickly, ushering the brunette inside his quarters when the basilisk dissipated.

Harry followed Snape up the steps, a frown etched onto his face. His eyes widened when he reached the top, looking around as if it was his first time seeing the place. Harry walked around, admiring everything, “This place looks wonderful!” he complimented breathlessly.

Snape backed away and closed his eyes, the realization hit on how deeply Harry had forgotten him. He flinched and opened his eyes when fingers touched his cheek. He stared down at Harry confused, “What?” he asked harshly.

Harry backed away instantly, “You…you were crying…” he whispered, holding up damp fingertips.

Snape swiped the back of his hand against his cheek, feeling the moisture that was indeed on his face. He looked away, “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Harry nodded slowly, walking around, “Do you know what room is mine?”

Snape looked around, noting all the differences from this morning. There was now a small hallway extending from the right wall with a door on each side, “Those two must be yours.” He pointed.

Harry smiled slightly and made his way over opening the doors to find a full bathroom and bedroom, “I’m…I’m going to get dressed okay?” he asked, looking back at him.

Snape waved him off, nearly jumping when Dumbledore appeared out of his now newly renovated kitchen, “Albus?” he questioned.

The Headmaster smiled, “Harry likes to cook.” He stated simply.

Snape sighed, he seemed to be doing that a lot to day, “Are you really sure he’ll benefit from staying here, Albus? I’d hate to hurt him anymore than I already have.”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily, “You’ll do fine, my boy. I believe that you are exactly what he needs.” He stated surely, “Plus, it would do you both well to get along even a little bit better. This would also help in that matter of getting to learn about each other.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t want to learn about him, I don’t want anything to do with him anymore! You know I cannot reciprocate any feelings he may regain for me, I would only have to hurt him again!” he whispered angrily.

Dumbledore smiled sadly, “I know you will make the right decision when and if the time comes. All I ask is that you give him a chance, and if not, let him down gently. He does not need anymore sadness in his life.”

Dumbledore left his side when the bedroom door opened, moving to greet Harry who was now dressed in normal muggle clothing. Snape leaned against the wall contemplating what he had just been told. He looked up when Harry approached him, waiting for whatever it was that he wanted.

Harry blushed, not making eye contact, “Well, I…I just wanted to thank you for putting up with me. I promise not to annoy you.” He bowed his head slightly.

Snape looked away, “You don’t need to thank me for anything, Potter.” He stated.

“Harry, sir.” He whispered.

Snape looked back at him, “What did you say?” he asked, anxiousness in his voice.

Harry stared at him, a confused look on his face, “I, I think I wanted you to call me Harry, not Potter. Am, am I right?” he asked.

Snape looked away again and Dumbledore shook gleefully, “This is wonderful, Harry! Just wonderful! Keep up the good work!” He patted Harry’s shoulder before making his leave, “Have a good time, my boys!” He whistled merrily as the door shut behind him.

Harry smiled slightly before it disappeared again, “So I did want you to call me Harry.” He murmured.

Snape nodded, pushing himself off the wall and going over to settle himself down in an armchair near the fireplace. Harry followed suit, sitting down in one across from him.

They stared at each other in silence both deep in thought. Snape looked away first, opting instead to stare at the fire in the fireplace.

“Were, were we friends before Professor Snape?”

Snape chuckled humorlessly, “We weren’t exactly what you called friends…Harry.” He frowned at the uneasiness this caused, “We had a very complicated relationship before you lost your memory.”

Harry frowned at this, “Why was it complicated?” he asked.

Snape looked over at him, calculating, before rolling up the sleeve of his cloak to bear his forearm, revealing his curse mark, “Do you know what this is?” he asked emotionlessly.

Harry leaned forward, running two fingers gently across the black skull, pulling back sharply as pain seared through his head, “N-No…” he whispered, clutching his head tightly.

Snape shook his head, “It’s called the Dark Mark, Lord…,”He paused, “Lord Voldemort gives these to his followers when they join him.”

“The Dark Lord is dead.” Harry replied instantly.

Snape sat up quickly in his chair, “Why do you keep repeating that?” he asked sharply.

Harry froze, eyes wide with fear.

Snape glared ominously, “Answer me, Potter!” he hissed.

Harry fidgeted in his chair before getting up and bolting from the room, locking himself in his bedroom.

Snape followed close behind, banging on the door, “Potter, come out this instant!” he ordered. He waited for a response getting none when the door suddenly burst open, an enraged Potter staring at him, “Potter, I won’t ask again, tell me why you keep saying that!”

Harry’s anger disappeared instantly and his mouth opened but no words would come out, he winced, “I…I can’t…say…” he wheezed, hold his throat as if it pained him to say even that.

Snape shook his head, “You can, and you will.” He ordered. He moved forward gripping Harry’s shoulders, “Now spit it out!”

Harry struggled from Snape’s vice-like grip, “Let…let me go!” He struggled ripping himself out of his shirt to escape him. He backed away into the far corner of the room, looking absolutely broken.

Snape stared at him in shock, not wanting to believe what he was seeing, “What…what is happening to you, Potter?” he asked.

Harry covered his chest, ineffectively covering the blackish and dead-looking part of his torso, right above his heart, “No…” He rushed forward, pushing past a stunned Snape and running out of the Potion Master’s chambers. He ran with all his might, pushing down the urge to stay away from his Mistress, allowing the numbness to swallow him up again.

He ran up the stone stairwells and onto the first floor of Hogwarts, then outside to the lake, collapsing at its edge. He huddled his knees close to his chest and rocked back and forth, effectively calming himself down.

Harry didn’t know what compelled him to ask to stay with Snape that morning. He knew it went against his orders and that he would be punished severely for it, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it. That past week in the Hospital Wing had been close to torturous for him, he had to get away.

Harry cried out suddenly, feeling the emptiness in his heart spreading throughout his body. He watched as the infection in his flesh spread, now almost covering his whole torso with its black mark. He twitched when he felt a raindrop splash onto his nose, looking around, surprised at how late it had become.

Harry got up stiffly, wiping his pants clean before making his way back into Hogwarts. He needed to see his Mistress, needed her to make this emptiness go away.

He walked stealthily down the corridors, avoiding everyone at all costs. Harry couldn’t afford for people to see him. He would have to explain.

Harry finally made it to Professor Umbridge’s classroom, slipping inside quickly and closing the door. He turned around and paled considerably.

Professor Umbridge grinned maliciously from behind her desk, running her eyes down his infected flesh, “It seems you have disobeyed me, you disgusting freak, you will receive your just rewards shortly. Come here.” She ordered coldly.

Harry stepped forward instantly, his body moving of its own accord, to stand in front of the pudgy witch.

She gripped his chin roughly, bringing him down to eye level, “You disobey, and I take away. Understand?” she asked.

Harry nodded numbly, all emotions squashed when she touched him. She waved her wand, the chair and torture device appearing in the middle of the room, “Sit, you know what to do.”

Harry sat down, twitching when the straps restrained him. He felt all the memories of the last experience coming back to him, flooding his mind with the pain. Harry watched, silent, as she placed the spiked headband around his head again, before placing the headphones over her ears, “Get ready Harry dear, and no screaming.”

Harry clenched his eyes shut and bit into his bottom lip roughly, but nothing could prepare him for the soul-ripping pain that lanced throughout his whole body. Tears streamed down his eyes as he remembered everything, all the things that had eluded him for the past week, return to his mind, before all his current memories flooded them out. Umbridge sifted through them to find the one that would hurt him the most by losing.

Umbridge took longer this time, looking through each one carefully. She couldn’t break the boy completely, that would defeat her purpose. She had already taken his memories of friends and his one love. There wasn’t much that she could take that would have the effect she wanted. Umbridge almost gave up when one of his happiest memories surfaced in his mind. Umbridge cackled. She had scored big time.

It was the memory of finding out his was a wizard, his first happy memory in his entire life. That would surely destroy him; any resistance to her control would become futile surely. She pulled it out of him roughly, snickering evilly at the practically emotionless boy left behind.

Umbridge implanted more threats this time, threatening to reveal his love to the world, threatening to kill his friends, anything that she could come up with to keep the boy obedient to only her.

She removed the spike headband, releasing him, “You will despise the Potion’s Master. You will find no cure for the pain in your heart from him, only me. He is useless to you.” She tugged the boy’s chin to force him to look up at her, “And, Harry, dear. If you disobey me again, it won’t be you who suffers. It’ll be him.” She let go, “You may leave.”

Harry stood up, “Thank you, Mistress.” He monotoned.
Here's Chapter 7! I feel so bad for Harry now...I really am a cruel person for making him go through this, but it'll get better. I promise!
© 2008 - 2024 Momo-GemFarrel
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XxYilingGirlxX's avatar

Umbridge is a b*tch