Chapter 7: Anger And Help

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Snape stared at the boy intently. He saw the boy tensed and stiffen when he asked about his test results. He can't help but wonder; what could it be? Surely, it can't anything serious.

His heart dropped when he fully understood what Potter had said. Severus blinked for a few moments as he digested what he heard Potter said a while back.

"The test results said that I have cancer, though, I'm not sure what type of cancer, Professor." Potter said it in a very quiet, downtrodden tone, then, looked down. Snape studied the boy's form. The boy looked scared. He tried to crush down the sudden feeling of empathy that threatened to surface in his heart.

This is Potter we are talking about. This. Is. Potter.

"Professor? Are you alright? Sir?" He heard Potter called. He broke out of his muse.

"Yes. I'm fine," Snape knew he had to stop there, but words came out of his mouth before he can even realize what he was saying. He added, "But are you?"

At the question, Potter looked at him coldly all of a sudden. He sneered and said, "I'm fine. Do not mock me. Insult me, spite me- but please, never. Ever. Mock. Me. Professor. Besides," a smirk that he never saw in Potter's face, ever, appeared. The boy said in a matter-of-factly voice, "You never cared. You hated me."

Snape was taken aback with the coldness and the menace in the boy's tone. He looked at the smirking boy in front of him. Potter did not look like the Potter he knew. He was sitting there, wearing James Potter's face and Lily Evans' green eyes, and oh, how they blind! But Potter continued to sit there; real and solid.

It was Snape's turn to stiffen. It was as if Potter dumped a bucket of cold water on him that froze even Time. Then, anger started boil in his veins, "Why, you ungrateful brat! At least, I am asking you about your welfare!"

"May I go now?" Potter sighed tiredly, not even flinching or wincing at the livid man in front of him.

"You are not excused, Potter!" Snape said dangerously, but Harry started to stand. When the boy reached the door, Severus Snape watched him leave as if he had every reason to be proud of himself. Only Snape, deep in thought, was left.

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That night, Snape was nursing a glass of Firewhisky in his office, still thinking about Harry Potter. He was in no mood to even brew. There was a lingering feeling of empathy that stayed even when Potter in person left him unceremoniously. He cannot even think of ways on how to punish Potter for his cheek, or the tattletale on the boy on Albus. He cannot even fathom if he can teach Potter on the morrow.

The boy was right. I never cared before. Why would I care now?

Just then, Weasely, whose face was red, came knocking on his most hated Professor's door. Ron was not certain if the Professor was still awake, but he knew most of the Castle was asleep. He was risking his neck for Harry, he reminded himself. His Mother, Molly, had approved of the idea. Even Hermione does.

"Weasely!" Snape sounded surprised. Well, Ron was surprise with himself, too, if he had to be honest, "It is way past curfew, thirty points-"

Ron cut his Professor's tirade. He needed to talk to the man. There was no way he was going to even let the chance pass. He had to do this for Harry, "Professor. Please. May I talk to you? I just need to do this. Please."

Earnest blue eyes stared at Severus. There was determination there, Severus noticed. There was some sort of desperation as well. He had never seen Ronald Weasely with such serious look on his freckled face, especially not even when it came to academic matters. There was urgency in the way his student talked. The normally jovial tone sounded deadpanned, and Ron never called Snape Professor in the tone he did earlier.

"Alright. Come in, Weasely, but mind you, make it quick. I have matters to attend to." The boy gave him a slight nod and proceeded to do as he was told. Snape told him to sit down in the chair in front of Snape's desk. Ronald gulped audibly as soon as Severus closed the door and loosened his Gryffindor tie a little. Whatever the matter was, Snape thought, it was sure as hell to be important.

"Well?" Severus asked, prodding the boy to start to speak.

"Well," Ron copied, earning a lifted eyebrow from Snape, "Well, you see, Professor-"

"Straight to the point, please, Mister Weasely, or else I would be bound to subject you to Mister Filch's capable hands right at this moment."

Ron let out a small huff of air. He hoped Harry would appreciate this, or else! Who knew talking to Snape would be this hard?!

"Shall I wait a lifetime for you to spit out, Weasely?!" Snape asked, irritated.

Ron opened his mouth, "Well," another eyebrow, "This is about Harry, Sir."

Ron gulped as he saw Snape's eyes squinting. What in Merlin's beard possessed him to do this?

"When are things not about Potter?" He heard Snape murmur.

Ron took it as a cue to continue. There was no option here, only one. It is to succeed in convincing Snape.

"Harry, he's not alright. I know it. I can feel it. I know that you hate Harry, Professor, but I need someone to look after him. I and Hermione can only do so much, see." Ron felt his throat constricting. He had continue. He had already taken Snape's attention, "And trust me when I say that he needs constant attention. He is already emotionally abused by his relatives, Professor. He is emotionally scarred. Cedric Diggory's death- I'm sure you know of it! I am taking risks even thinking of asking help from you. Harry needs not a too overly affectionate someone, and Hermione and my parents lack that. They tend to be too much at times.

"And me, I know I can be too thick most of the time. Harry might have loved all of us, but sometimes, I'm afraid I might break him or hurt him with my callousness. There are times when Harry spaces out- I'm afraid that I might disturb him and push him over the edge. Harry might love us, but right now, we are not what he needs."

Snape stared at the boy. There was a faraway look, a strange look, on Molly and Arthur's child. He never knew how deep Ronald understands of Harry, yet here he was, showing Snape just exactly how much. Snape marveled at how deep it was. It must have been hard to even think of such an idea, but to do it was much, much harder. Ron was not exactly the most matured, but then again, Severus never gave this boy a chance.

"I have talked to Mum about this, and she agrees. She thinks it would do better in the long run. I have asked Hermione's opinion, too, and she approves of it," Ron said.

"So," Snape begun in a low voice, "What exactly are you asking of me, Mister Weasely?"

Ron took in air. He had presented his side. Now was the moment. It was win or lose. All or nothing. "I want for you, Sir, to help us in looking after Harry."

Severus stared at the boy. Look after Potter's spawn? Albus Dumbledore and the night he had swore the same thing flashed before his eyes. He had swore the same thing to the Headmaster! And he had never taken it seriously, didn't he? He saves Potter's hide, that's for sure. Time and time again, he had done just that. But he had never attempted to look after Potter for real. He had never taken measures to assure if Potter was well taken care of. He had assumed, but he was never assured. And what of this emotionally abused thing Weasely was talking about? And concerning Potter's relatives, no doubt. Was something happening in Surrey and concerning that horse of a sister Lily had that he was not aware of? Was Potter's home life different that what he assumed it to be?

A myriad of things and thoughts raced within Snape's mind. Ron, meanwhile, sat in front of Snape, thinking of the ways he can convince Snape still if ever Snape says no. He thinks of other options, ways to assure that Harry would be okay. FInally, Snape's eyes darted back at Ron. Ron readied himself, "You are asking me of a broad thing, Mister Weasely. Would you care to--"

Snape's Floo came to life. Minerva McGonagall appeared in the hearth, her eyes filled with terror. With a croaking voice, she acknowledged both men in front of her and said only two words, but those words were enough to send all of them running towards the Gryffindor dorm room. McGonagall said, "It's Harry."

Snape's heart stopped for a moment. Dear Merlin. I hope he's okay he thought. With that, Ron Weasley and Severus Snape rush towards the Gryffindor dorm room hoping nothing was wrong.

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