Snarry Sweet Sick Fic

Chapter 1

    So I've noticed there aren't many hurt/comfort Snarry fanfics finished on Wattpad, and I figured I might be able to help with that problem. I am totally obsessed with hurt/comfort, so consider yourself warned.

    Harry

    The thinnest, driest breaths escape the struggling throat of the black clad man lying on the floor, but it's enough.

As gently as he can, Harry scoops up the pale, bony figure. Harry has no choice but to shift the man he hates into a bridal style hold. He prays that Snape won't wake up until he sets Snape down.

He really doesn't know what Snape's deal is at all, except it isn't black and white like he thought it was, and Snape knows answers that Harry wants to know.

Because right now, all Harry has is questions.

"You may come back tomorrow morning, Mr. Potter, but for now I recommend celebration and rest." the St. Mungo's healer insists, and Harry is firmly shown out.

As soon as he apparates back, a shout rings out, but he's pleasantly surprised to find that it's friends, not fans, who are mobbing him. "Harry!!"

"Ginny," Harry murmurs into his girlfriend's hair, the sweet-smelling, flaming locks seeming to shine. "Thank Merlin you survived."

Harry holds her close.

Severus

"Ever since you brought him here, he hasn't batted an eyelash. You must be his lucky charm! Granted, Mr. Potter, you are everyone's lucky charm."

Potter. Severus wants to scream in frustration, and he manages a tiny growl, opening his eyes just a bit more. Of course.

Potter, of all people, is seeing him weak, Potter whose ego is already bigger than the expansive Hogwarts grounds, Potter who... brought him here? Why in Merlin's name would Potter do anything to help Severus?

And where is here?

"Hello, Snape, it's me, Harry. Potter." Potter's voice sounds so real, so near, that Severus can't deny that he's alive. Nor will he cease living anytime soon, it seems, much to his disappointment. "You're in St. Mungo's and... well... I was wondering whether you reckon you'd feel good in a few days... I have loads of questions... yeah. That's really all. Oh, and we won the battle, so Voldemort is dead."

When Severus tries to open his eyes all the way, all he sees is brightness for a few moments, and a door somewhere to the left shuts with a click as his eyes re-adjust to the cheerful healer leaning over him.

"Well. You're recovering beautifully. I'm sure you'll be better in no time!" Her smile falters as he levels a cold stare. "I'll... just be going..." and she bustles out nervously.

Brilliant green eyes. Unruly, infuriating jet black hair that curls into something almost endearing. A smile of unrestrained joy.

Severus knows his feelings are pointless and the opposite of reciprocated, but after three years, he's not sure he can stop.

Severus

Potter passes him in the hallways every now and then, looking frightened when Severus meets his gaze with a cold stare.

He's not sure why Potter cleared his name.

Severus has gone back to teaching and Potter has taken up professional quidditch, and the newspapers often have glorious pictures of Potter catching snitch after snitch. If Severus keeps a small box of clippings (guarded with magical wards) because he likes the way Potter's arse perches on a broomstick, that's nobody's business but his own.

The real thing wandering around Hogwarts so much, Severus is so weak he succumbs to the urge to wank every night to Potter's pictures.

Knock, knock. Knuckles meet the thick door of Severus' quarters and Severus hastily shoves the box away in a nearby drawer before opening the door with a scowl.

Potter. Of course Potter.

Potter has been stopping by every now and then, much to Severus' dismay. And delight.

"What are you doing here?" he sneers with contempt.

Potter's jaw clenches, sexy, and his eyes flash with annoyance. "The headmistress invited me to help around Hogwarts, remember?"

Severus snorts at the word help and raises an eyebrow. "You certainly aren't helping now. Why are you here at my door?"

"Can I come in?"

"No." Yes. Come in Potter, please.

Potter grits his teeth. "Can you come out?" He steps back as if to make room for Severus to step out of his rooms.

Severus just glares. "No." And shuts the door in Potter's face.

"Greasy git," he hears Potter retort before storming off.

Severus wants to punch something. Why does Potter make him feel so helpless?

Harry

It's been a week since Harry started hanging around Hogwarts, and Snape's determination to avoid him is getting ridiculous.

When all the kids leave, Harry walks up to the desk.

"Potter, must you insist upon annoying me with your presence wherever I go?" Snape doesn't look up from the papers in front of him.

Harry frowns, trying to come up with a response until he realizes there kind of isn't one. Huh. "Can we talk? Because I have questions."

Snape continues to grade in looping script, not looking up as he replied, "Believe it or not, the world does not bow to your will, Potter. Not all of it, at least."

Harry shoots back, "Believe it or not, I'm not my father, Snape."

Snape raises his eyebrows in surprise. Harry doesn't care. He can't get detention anymore, can he?

Snape glares for what seems like an eternity. "You're here to help, correct?" Harry nods. "Clean these cauldrons," Snape levitates several and sets them on desks, "and I'll talk to you tonight."

Harry beams at Snape, who blinks blankly before returning to his work.

Harry is surprised there's no insult tacked onto the end, but he doesn't think about it too much. Instead, he gets to scrubbing.

Severus

He shouldn't have let Potter do anything, first of all. But if he did, he should have given Potter a different job, for Salazar's sake.

Potter's arse on a broomstick in black and white newspaper clipping is nothing to having the real Harry Potter bending over a cauldron, practically presenting his backside to you.

He can't take his eyes off it, and Salazar why can't the idiotic boy wear robes instead of muggle jeans because they are so tight over his plump arse.

Imagine pulling those jeans down, running his fingers through Potter's hair, pulling that arse closer until Potter's cock is right there rubbing against his hand-

And now he's hard. Wonderful.

Potter straightens up and turns around, oblivious to how sexy he looks with flushed cheeks. Severus can't wrench his eyes away fast enough, and a flicker of confusion dances across Potter's face as Potter catches Severus staring at his arse.

"I'm done," Potter looks up at the clock. "It's dinnertime, Snape, come on."

Severus is losing a fight against his warm cheeks, begging them not to turn pink. He knows he's pitching a tent in his robes right now. "Go on."

Potter has the nerve to look concerned. "You haven't been eating much. You were nearly a skeleton when I brought you to St-"

"What are you going to do, drag me to the Great Hall?" Severus scoffs.

And then his sneer fades as Potter grasped his wrist and yanked him up. "Yes."

Thank Merlin Potter didn't look down.