Hope Has a Place
Part Two
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"Professor?" asked Harry softly as he felt the man holding him stiffen. "What is it?"

"Nothing," replied Snape quickly, much too quickly. It was a lie. And after what had just happened, there was only one reason why Snape would lie to him.

"Oh, God," moaned Harry. "He's back isn't he? Remus?" If it wasn't for the support of Snape's strong arms he was sure he would have collapsed on the floor in an undignified heap. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him and he was aware of Snape struggling to hold him upright. Harry whimpered like a cornered animal.

"Ssh, Harry. It's all right. I won't let him hurt you."

Harry nodded, his throat too constricted with emotion to speak.

In his head, he knew what had happened to him took place years ago, but since the memory was only discovered a few moments ago, his body felt as if the violation had only just happened and Harry was on the verge of a full out panic attack. His body was awash with adrenaline and terror, getting ready to fight or flee, but since the professor's strong grip on him prevented either action, he began to hyperventilate. Pins and needles darted along his arms and legs, his tongue felt swollen in his mouth. His hands clawed at his face, trying to get air in.

He was dying. He was going to die right here in Snape's arms. Everything went white as he passed out.

When he came too, he was lying prone on a sofa with Snape bending over him. Snape pushed his fringe out of his eyes and heaved a relieved sigh. Harry tried to sit up, but dizziness assailed him again and Snape pushed him back onto the sofa with a firm push on his chest.

"You need to keep still, Harry. You've been out for a while. I thought I might have to take you to the hospital wing."

"No! Please, I don't want anyone else to know what happened to me." Harry hung his head, feeling so ashamed. He was a wizard, why couldn't he have stopped Remus from hurting him?

"Harry, look at me," commanded Snape, tilting Harry's head up. "You did nothing wrong, do you hear me? If I seem angry about this, I am, but not with you, do you understand? It wasn't your fault. He was a grown man who abused you. You are not to blame. It wasn't your fault, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you believe it?"

It took a few moments before Harry could even answer. "No, sir. Not really."

"Maybe not yet," agreed Snape. "But you will. I promise you that."

Snape stood up, smoothing down his robes and disappeared from Harry's sight. When he returned, he had a glass of water in one hand. A few ice cubes clinked against the side of the glass. "This might help with the dizzy spells," said Snape, helping Harry up to a semi-reclining position on the sofa. Harry couldn't prevent the small shiver of fear as the other man touched him.

Much to his relief, Snape didn't let his touch linger, but sat down on his haunches and watched Harry drain the glass of the cool liquid inside it. Harry hadn't realised how thirsty he'd been. The water did help with the light head Harry had been suffering from and he took the opportunity that he wasn't going to faint again to have a look round the room.

He'd known as soon as he came to that they were no longer in Grimmauld Place and the only conclusion he could come to was that they were in Snape's private quarters at Hogwarts. The sofa he was lying on was a soft, black leather, that seemed to mould to the shape of the person sitting in it. Like the rest of the castle, the walls and floor were bare stone, but a large fire was blazing in the hearth. In front of it was a fluffy, cream sheepskin rug. Harry had the most childish urge to take off his socks and shoes and wriggle his toes in it. He wondered if Snape could tell what he was thinking.

"I suppose we ought to tell the headmaster," Snape mused.

"No!" protested Harry sharply, more sharply than he had intended. "Please, sir, please don't tell him. I don't want him to be disappointed in me."

Snape arched an elegant brow. "Would you like to explain that statement?"

"I - I overheard Professor Dumbledore talking with Mrs. Weasley after the last Order meeting. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but then I heard them talking about me, so I stayed."

"And what did you hear that would think the headmaster could ever be disappointed in you?"

"Mrs. Weasley was upset that Charlie hadn't waited until he was married, that he'd thrown his virginity away on some worthless... er, someone worthless and that now his magic would never be pure. He was sullied. Just like me."

"Harry, you will listen to me and you will listen good, that conversation you heard had nothing to do with magic or purity or whatever. It was Molly Weasley mouthing off because she does not like Charlie's girlfriend, nothing more. You are not sullied, don't you dare think that! I won't allow it. I know that you feel as if you are, but there is nothing dirty or shameful about you, do you hear me?" Snape's voice rose to a shout on the last few words and Harry shrank back against the sofa as if trying to escape him.

"Sorry," mumbled Snape. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't. But we still have to tell the headmaster that you're here, Harry. The dorms are magically sealed until the first of September. He has to let you in. It's almost a month until term starts, have you thought of a reason as to why you are back at school so early?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't need an excuse. That no-one would know I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

"I meant what I said. I wanted to stay with you. Here." Harry felt his whole face crumple. Maybe back at the house he'd misunderstood. Didn't Snape want him here after all? But that might just have been him being an idiot as per usual.

"Harry," drawled Snape slowly. "You don't mean to say that you expected to stay here? That you anticipated, that you wanted to stay here in the dungeons for a month?"

"With you," Harry barely squeaked the words out from his throat. He didn't quite know why, but he just knew that the other man comforted him with his presence and at the moment he needed all the comforting he could get. Maybe he was starting to see the Potions master in a new light after they'd shared the mind sharing spell, but he just knew that he wanted to stay here. He wanted to be allowed to stay here.

But it was a futile wish. Why would Snape want to be saddled with an overly emotional almost seventeen year old teenager? He was probably trying to think of a way to let Harry down gently. Harry had no pride left. He would beg if he had to.

"Please, sir, I can sleep on the floor or the sofa, I don't mind." It wouldn't be any worse than his cupboard.

"You will do no such thing!" roared Snape and Harry managed not to jump ten feet in the air. "I didn't mean to startle you, Harry, sorry. All I meant was that you will be a guest and guests do not sleep on the floor or on the sofa."

"It's quite a comfy sofa," said Harry, risking a grin. God, his emotions were all over the place today.

"It is," agreed Snape. "For me. You will have my bedroom for as long as you wish to stay."

Forever thought Harry, but he didn't voice it.

"I don't want to impose," began Harry, worried that he'd kicked the man out of his own bed.

"It will not be an imposition, I assure you. Why don't you rest and I will make us some lunch."

"I'm not really hungry. I feel a bit sick," he admitted. "I don't think I could keep anything down right now."

"Very well, but I will try and feed you later. You're far too thin," said Snape, almost to himself. Snape waved his hands about the room and torches flared on the walls, illuminating more bookshelves than Harry had seen in the library.

"Wow! You have a lot of books. Hermione would be jealous."

"You can read whatever books you like from these shelves. I keep the Dark Arts books locked in a trunk in my cellar."

Harry gaped at him and was rewarded with a sly smile. "Can't you tell when I'm joking?"

Harry shook his head. No, he couldn't. He didn't even know the Potions master could joke. It was a very pleasant surprise. Snape wandered over to one of the shelves and perused the books. He looked deep in thought and Harry really didn't want to disturb him, but he was on the verge of another fully blown panic attack just thinking about it.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?" Snape turned back round, his eyes a shade darker than the coal in the fireplace.

"Would you - would you come with me?"

"Where?"

"All my stuff is still there," said Harry, hoping that would be enough. He could barely think of it, never mind name it.

"No, Harry, I won't go with you. You will stay right there and that sofa until I return with all of your things. You are not going back to that house, back to him."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry but as well as feeling relieved that he wouldn't have to face Remus, he was also worried what might happen with the two of them alone together with wands. "Professor? Promise me you won't do anything to him? Promise?"

"Oh, there's plenty I want to do to him, Harry. But I won't."

"Promise me," pleaded Harry. He knew Snape would not break his word.

"I promise," sighed Snape and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the jar on the mantelpiece.

Harry wasn't so sure whether he believed him this time.

Part Three