Your Protector ✦ A Snarry Fanfiction

Chapter 6: Firewhisky

Chapter 6: Firewhisky (Harry's Perspective)

"I don't think you're a freak."

The words hung in the air for several minutes, both Snape and Harry frozen in place. Harry wasn't sure why he said these words, they had somehow slipped out without much thought. But he meant them nonetheless.

"Potter, I-"

"Harry," the boy corrected, knowing that getting Snape to call him by his first name was vital to their success living together for the rest of the school year.

The look on Snape's face contorted as he poured himself another shot of firewhisky. The tension in the room was suddenly rising, thick and hot.

"Harry, I have no patients for liars such as yourself."

Harry looked at Snape for a long while. The expression on the older man's face was not one that he could decipher. A mixture of sadness and pain, but something else as well. Harry began to grow uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being kind to the man who had tormented him for much of his childhood, let alone seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

"I'm no liar professor," Harry said. His gaze was fixed intently on Snape, green eyes looking deeply into ones as black as the night.

This seemed to upset the older man, and with a start he rose from the table and announced that he was going to bed. Harry watched as he rushed to his room without a second glance at the boy he left behind.

The door slammed causing Harry to jump in his seat. Feeling frustrated he rose from the table and made his way over to the corner of the room where his bed sat. The blankets had been made up, probably by a house elf. Another perk of living in the professor's quarters he guessed, too tired to truly care.

As he slipped into bed, Harry heard a bumping coming from Snape's room, but thought nothing of it as he drifted into a dreamless slumber.

Harry awoke with a start only hours later to the sound of glass shattering. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he scanned the dimly lit room, his eyes finally landing on a dark figure hunched over across the room.

"Who's there?" he shouted, his voice unwavering. "Lumos."

A bright light shot out from the end of his wand, illuminating the small room before him. Slumped over against the wall was none other than Snape, a broken bottle of firewhisky lying in shattered pieces at his feet.

"Sir, are you all right?"

The ponding in Harry's chest slowed slightly, but a new fear began to form in the pit of his stomach. This was so unlike the professor he knew. Snape had always kept it together, granted he did have a wild temper. But the man always presented himself with power and control, things that seemed to be long forgotten by the man now.

"Harry-" Snape let out a slurred whisper, just loud enough for the younger to hear.

Climbing out of bed, Harry rushed to the professor's side. Every instinct was telling him something was wrong and that he should get help. But he knew Snape would never forgive him if anyone saw him in this state.

"Have you been drinking?" Harry asked as he looked into Snape's eyes. Snape only glared back.

He could smell the sharp scent of alcohol that seemed to blanket Snape, giving him his answer.