We Met In Detention ✓

Thirty-Four | Alike

~Harry's POV

I felt like dying. I felt like slitting my wrists and bleeding out. I was on the verge of pulling out my wand and AK'ing myself right there and then.

Although, seeing me kill myself in front of him wouldn't exactly help the list of trauma Snape clearly already had.

"You're just like me." He repeated, face fallen. It had really hit him there. I was not the boy he thought I was, and the way I was raised was definitely not what he'd expected. 

Tears began to form in my eyes as I realised he really did know now. He knew I was a hurt boy just like he was years ago. I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying. 

"How did I not notice?" He whispered, more to himself. "Your childhood was, no, is so alike to mine. And I assumed you were some spoilt prince with nothing to hide."

In a way, I was lucky that he'd not seen anything I'd been truly hiding, but he came close. If he actually watched me get raped I would've genuinely offed myself on the spot.

My self harming luckily wasn't shown, nor was my frequent trips to the toilet. Or what really happened that night in the Room of Requirement where Theo's true colours were shown.

If he saw my extreme mental breakdown/suicide attempt, I would also have unalived on the spot. Basically a lot of things would have made me pull a Hannah Baker.

"Was that, erm, Vernon, in those memories?" He asked me.

Do I reply or do I die?

"Yeah."

"Did... did Petunia do it too?" 

Instantly, I shake my head. "Of course not. I mean, both of them did nothing. We're not alike. I'm a spoilt prince."

Spoilt with beats.

Beats headphones? No. Beat till unconsciousness? Yes.

Snape gave me a look. "Potter- no. Harry. I'm sorry."

He didn't stutter or struggle to say that. He meant it. It was frustrating to know he only felt this way because he knew what I'd been through. But I couldn't say much, because I saw him differently now too.

I stayed quiet. I wasn't sure what to say. There was so much to say that I didn't know where to start.

 I could Obliviate him, get my head together and redo our lesson so it's our last, but I'm pretty sure Severus Snape would be able to figure out what I'm doing before I get the chance.

My only option is to kill myself.

"Avada-" 

"Harry."

"Sir."

Snape snatched my wand off me, probably assuming I wanted to kill him. Before I looked through his mind, that was a good idea. Now, I've changed my mind. It makes sense that he's done the same.

"What! My wand." I whined. Now how can I kill myself. Wandless suicide? I could try it.

Or I could suck it up and finish the conversation and then skydive off the Astronomy Tower without a parachute. 

I'll do that.

"You aren't going to be killing yourself Harry."

I scoffed. "You're only saying that because you saw something you weren't meant to. Twenty minutes ago you would've finished the job for me."

He took a deep breath. "I wouldn't let any student kill themselves."

"But you'd encourage me to do it."