Save me (Severitus)

Chapter 16

Authors Note:
Writing this when I should be resting... lmao. I'm taking a social media break no more Instagram for me. Seeing as that's the only form of social media I somewhat get.

It's so deafeningly sad in America, I get so tired and sad. I wish I could really make a difference but I realize it's a fruitless journey.

I'm also having a small writers block so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Snape's POV
The stillness of the house isn't right. I just finished breakfast, he is typically up at this point. I quickly march up the stairs and open his bedroom door.

Empty. Why is is empty? Did he leave? Did I do something wrong? Did someone take him?

"Harry!" I call out. Nothing, I still feel as if I'm being watched. My scar isn't burning so Voldemort can't be here.

"Harry, where are you? Are you alright?" I call out quieter, hoping that it's his eyes on me.

I faintly hear a floorboard creek from the closet. I open the door very gently and see a distraught Harry.

"Harry? Are you alright? Why are you in here?" I ask gently.

"Feels safer in here," I only faintly hear. My knees feel as if they're going to give out from my crouching position in front of him.

I think quickly on my toes, "Okay." I then slide inside. I move to sit with him on the opposite side of the closet, and I lean my back against the wall. His face distorts into a confusing, I'm assuming his brain is trying to decide whether I'm a threat and he needs to run or I add to the safety. I guess this is a test for the both of us.

       Five minutes go by, and his face finally relaxes from its position. We sit together for a good while, long enough to make my legs go numb.

      Then I hear a barely palpable, "Thank you." From the dark frame of the boy.

     "You are welcome, Harry," I say pausing to let it sink in, "Do you want me to bring your breakfast up here, or do you wish to go downstairs?" I ask quietly.

"Can w- I stay here a little longer please?" He asks in a quiet voice.

"Yes we can," I answer sternly. I knew he wanted to ask if I could stay with him but he was scared. With this said I wandlessly cast a warming charm on the food. I hear a small sigh of relief.

It's weird dealing with abused children. Obviously every person is different and needs to be treated differently, so do children. It is always so shocking when I realize most parents- most adults don't realize this.

Most of my Slytherins are abused, which is not surprising. Most come scared. with a shell of something they believe to oppose this fear. Some are overly nice or good, some are filled with hatred and anger, and some are numb to the core.

Harry is obviously not a mean child, nor does he over compensate with being good. It seems as if life has made it so terribly hard for him to be good. With his clumsy and curious nature, that his relatives have nearly stamped out.

For some reason I don't believe he ever developed a shell. Maybe every time he tried it never worked? He is a good soul, kind and genuine. He is an interesting child.

"I'm ready now, if you are." Harry interpreters my strangely philosophical thoughts that made the author think back many years of memories.

"Great way to break the fourth wall," I mutter, "Yes I'm ready." Harry with his young bones, scrambles out of the closet. The floor boards creek, along with my bones, with the pressure of my legs as I stand out to get out of the small space. Thank Merlin I'm not claustrophobic.

The sudden burst of light makes my head go dizzy and one hand out stretches for me to bear my weight on something.

Finally I reach Harry's small wooden desk, I brace my weight onto it. The wood and resin, smooth surface reaches my senses. My eyes slowly adjust to the bright room.

I hear Harry's light foot steps as I steady myself on the desk. I'm getting old, shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Can you tell I had an iron deficiency writing this??? Hahahah