~
Harry grit his teeth- suddenly feeling a foolish for feeling even a little bit bad for Snape- though he couldn’t even feel settled in that because of the strangely serene tone the man used when he spoke. Just how many potions is he on right now?
“You’re wrong.” He probably won’t even remember this conversation, anyway- hopefully he won’t. “You’re one of my least favourite people, sure, but honestly I’d rather not have your death on my conscience, too- and no, the world doesn’t revolve around me, but one way or another everyone who’s died so far this time has been my fault, so it’s fair to assume you dying would be on me, too.” The git would probably come back as a ghost, just to blame me, anyway, whether I actually had anything to do with it or not.
“I’m not here to smother you. Not everyone has the moral compass of a Death Eater.” He glanced over the man, as if searching for any sign of the blood that had coated him earlier. “I want to know what happened, and unfortunately right now you’re the only person who might tell me.” With how many potions you’re on there might just actually be hope.
“There will be three people at fault for my death,” Severus remarked softly, “Not a one of which would be you. Perish the notion immediately. How I live and how I die will never be about you and to think otherwise is not only arrogant, it is damaging. You’ve enough on your plate without absorbing guilt for crimes that have absolutely nothing to do with you.”
Severus fell silent then, eying the boy bleakly and saying absolutely nothing to his remark on moral compasses. Even this addled by potion and magic he knew better than to open his mouth on that particular topic.
When the boy continued though, Severus’ brows rose considerably, before a laugh shocked its way out of him and he winced in its wake, his bandaged hand raising to clutch at the blanket, where beneath his lacerations ached from the muscular stress caused by the action of his amusement.
“Why Potter,” He breathed, eyes closed against the pain not even his own potions could fully overcome, “How positively Slytherin of you.” Slowly, the sting dulled to a minor ache, and he breathed easier, slowly opening his eyes to pierce the boy with his gaze, “If I didn’t know better, I would think the Dark Lord had put you up to it. Taking advantage of someone while they labor under mind altering medicinal potions is precisely the sort of thing he would do.”
Looking away, Severus wondered vaguely where Poppy had gone before remarking simply, “I displeased him. That is all you need, or would care, to know.”
Severely Archived 