A Second Soul

Chapter 11~ in which~ The Boys Play 20 Questions

"Why did the headmaster call you Harry?" Severus' eyes narrowed to slits, waiting for a response and searching for any signs of dishonesty in Evan's reaction.

His heart was in his throat, what could he say? Evan felt a strong connection with Severus but they hadn't known each other long at all; could he really tell him everything? But then what choice did he have? The other boy had obviously overheard at least part of his conversation with Dumbledore. How much did he hear? How much of it did he understand? 

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he tried to figure out his response, Severus growing more impatient as the moments passed, hostility beginning to flow off him in waves.

"Well? Are you going to answer me? I deserve to know who you are before I step through that door with you and have to trust you not to murder me in my sleep."

Taking a deep breath, Harry made a decision. "Ok, can we please discuss this in the common room?" he spoke in a hushed whisper, eyes darting back and forth the hall; he had learned long ago that there were eyes and ears everywhere and, after the nights events, he felt it best not to announce his true identity in such a public space.

"Alright." The response was what Evan had hoped to hear but Severus sounded extremely unsure about his answer, as though he was questioning if it was safe to be in his presence. 

Both boys entered, Severus following behind him, never leaving his back to the other. They sat across from one another, one waiting for answers, the other trying to find the words to provide them.

"Ok...I can't tell you everything, I'll explain the best I can, but there's just some information I can't give you right now, maybe not ever."

Severus just sat silently, waiting to hear what the other had to say. He would hold off judgement until he had heard his side of things but was scared at what he might reveal about himself. Who was this person he had quickly come to consider a friend?

"You remember I said that my parents were gone? And my first hand experience with Voldemort?"

Severus merely nodded once, indicating that he was listening.

"Voldemort killed my parents. They were a part of a group of wizards who opposed his rising power and he murdered them both. He's been after me ever since. I came here and Dumbledore helped provide me with a new identity so I would be safe. I can't really tell you anything more, I really shouldn't have said as much as I have." Harry waited, breathing tightly, for Severus' response.

He couldn't really be serious, could he? That would make him...what? A fugitive of war? A war that didn't even exist? But then Evan or...Harry? The boy in front of him seemed to be speaking honestly. It was clear he was scared of his past following him and Severus heard a voice in his head telling him to give Evan the benefit of the doubt, something he never did.

"He gave you that scar then?" It was more a statement than a question.

Harry averted his eyes, "Yes. The night he killed my parents."

"Ok, well this helps to explain the way you've been acting since we met, avoiding answering certain questions, always giving off this nervous energy, showing up with basically no belongings. I'm  not sure if I really trust you, then again, I'm not sure I really trust anyone. Just promise that if you can't tell me something because it might endanger your new identity, you won't make something up? Tell me you can't share that part of your life but don't feed me lies and expect to earn my trust. Ok?"

"That sounds fair." Harry deflated in relief.

"So, is Headmaster Dumbledore really your uncle?"

Harry laughed at this first question, his biggest lie since he had met Severus and, of course, the boy had known it wasn't true. "No, but he might as well be, he's really the only kind of family I have left."

Severus nodded, inwardly proud of his ability to sense dishonesty. "So then how did you know about this room? Have you been to Hogwarts before?"

Any mirth immediately dropped from Evan's face. "I can't tell you about that."

Severus raised an eyebrow in question but accepted this answer for now. "I have a feeling I'll be getting that response often."

"Probably," Harry said, "but at least it's honest. Can I ask you some questions?"

Immediately Severus' guard was up but he didn't see any harm in him asking, whether he got an answer or not was yet to be seen. "I suppose so."

"Why are you in my potions class?"

"Because I was assigned."

"Well yeah," Evan rolled his eyes light-heartedly and grinned, "I meant why are you, a sixth year, assigned to my seventh year potions class?"

Sev blushed at this but responded, "Dumbledore seems to think I'm too advanced for the sixth year potions curriculum."

"Ok, and why did you sabotage your own brew in class today?" Evan pressed, knowing that Severus was indeed more advanced than any potions curriculum Hogwarts could offer. 

Severus looked down to the floor, his hair falling to shield his face, "The other students bully me more when I stand out in class. I do enough to pass but make sure not to excel over them. It's just easier that way."

"But why do they pick on you?" This is a question that had always burned in Harry's mind, ever since he had seen Snape's memory of his father; why had Snape been such a target?

"I'm not really sure. Potter has had a problem with me since day one and everyone else just jumped on board. They tease me because my family has no money, because I'd rather read about potions than play quidditch, because I don't really have any friends. I suppose I'm just an easy target." 

"You must have some friends? And I'm sure plenty of students don't have money and who cares if you don't want to play quidditch?" Harry couldn't see why this would justify the vicious treatment Severus had received his whole life.

"I did have one friend. Lilly Evans. I met her before Hogwarts but then we got here and she was placed in Gryffindor and I was placed in Slytherin and I was immediately deemed an outcast. She still tried to be my friend, still tried to be there for me, but somehow that only made me feel worse. One day Potter and his friends were messing with me and she tried to step in but I took my anger out on her. I said some things, really bad, hurtful things, and she hasn't spoken to me since. My house mates usually leave me alone, but I wouldn't really call any of the friends except maybe Lucius but even he isn't really there for me and it doesn't really feel like friendship is supposed to I don't think." It felt strange to Severus, being so open with someone, but how could he expect Evan to be completely honest with him if he wasn't willing to do the same? Still he felt afraid of the other boy's response. Would he think less of him now? Would he realize he wasn't worth the time and energy and discard him to make new friends? The longer the silence spread out, the more afraid Severus was to look up at the boy seated across from him. Finally gaining some courage he looked into the emerald eyes seeing...was that sympathy? Or...it almost felt like empathy? Like somehow this boy knew what it felt like to be treated like garbage by everyone around you.

"I'm sorry Sev. I'd say kids can be cruel, but it's not even that simple. People are cruel. And there are good people out there, but even they can be cruel at times. I can't guarantee that everything will get better, but you do have at least one friend now. I know you don't know me that well yet, but I'm here and no matter what anybody says, I'll be here to listen and to help you. From now on you will always have one ally. You won't have to face things alone anymore."

~*~

The two boys continued to talk through the night, mostly sticking to lighter subjects like favorite colors and their main interests (Severus was appalled to hear that Evan was a hardcore quidditch player). They both fell asleep early in the morning as dawn was closing in, Harry on the couch and Severus in the chair which he had been excited to learn was a recliner. Though they were not in their beds, the furniture was suitable and their talk had lifted a weight off both of their shoulders. It was the first restful sleep either of them could remember ever drifting off to.