17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

What is that supposed to mean? Severus stared at the unconscious man in his arms. Only one nail..? Then he remembered that sometimes his headaches felt like two nails were being inserted into his temples, and sighed in understanding. Most likely the 'nail' was right where the wound was, he decided, and carefully lifted the smaller man to carry him into the bedroom. The man was still far too light.

Setting Potter down, he brushed the dark hair aside, telling himself it was not a caring gesture, and contemplated the cut on the man's forehead. Heading into the living room once more he cast a cleaning spell at the floor, then called for Potter's house elf and returned several minutes later with an assortment of vials and jars.

Why are you so good to me? he asked the man silently as he cleaned and disinfected the wound. You showed me your memories, but you and my future self were never... friends, he thought uncertainly. Were they friends now? Severus hadn't called anyone his friend since he had lost Lily. Uncapping a jar of ointment, he carefully applied a small amount of it to the cut and watched as it healed before his eyes, leaving only a faint red line. Would you prefer to keep a small reminder of your scar, or would unblemished skin be preferable to you? Severus hesitated, his hand poised over another jar as he considered the enigma that was Harry James Potter-Black. No one would want a reminder of a piece of someone else's soul, he decided eventually, picking up the jar and adding a small amount of clear gel to the previous ointment. Within the hour the cut would be healed, leaving no trace of the famous lightning bolt scar.

Will the younger Potter have to go through this as well? Severus wondered, eyeing the elder Potter's pale complexion. It was the same soul piece in both Potters, theoretically, so would the destruction of one deal with the other? Alarmed at the thought, Severus ordered Dobby to bring Harry Potter to him, thankful that classes had already finished for the day when Dobby reappeared with a bleeding and unconscious boy. Laying him on the same bed as his older counterpart, Severus began treating him the same way, taking all the steps he had taken with the man. After all, if Potter's memories were to be believed, then neither Potter appreciated their fans or fame, and would prefer to be without the identifying scar. He did not look forward to telling the younger Potter about Horcruxes and the fact that he had been harboring a piece of the Dark Lord's soul since that fateful Halloween night. No, he didn't look forward to that conversation at all.

Conjuring a wooden chair, Severus sat and considered the two Potters. Both were completely confusing to him, for all that the last Occlumency lesson with the younger Potter had gone astoundingly well. Potter had been far more Slytherin than he had expected, respectful and focused, and Severus was filled with a steadily burning anger for the Headmaster's machinations that had hidden such a spirit. It was no wonder that the older Potter hated Dumbledore with such a passion.

And yet the two Potters were very different; where Potter was still all soft youth, Potter-Black was the harsh lines of a man older than his years, a man who had seen things Severus wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. As he considered the features of the time traveler, Severus wondered who would be able to truly understand this man. Lupin had seemed to instinctively accept the boy, and Severus had noticed how Potter had looked at him as he would a father, a position that Lupin had appeared to return in full.

Who else? Black had seemed unable to accept the new situation, and Severus feared that that way lay only heartache for the older Potter. He may still hate the mutt despite the missing spells, but he wished for the lonely man's sake that Black would learn to accept him. For he had no doubt that Potter was lonely. In his memories Severus had seen that there had been few survivors at the end, and the ones closest to Potter had been Weasley, Granger, Lupin – and his wife Tonks – and Hagrid. He assumed that Poppy had been in the Hospital Wing, as he couldn't remember her dying before that point.

So then. Weasley and Granger would never again be his friends in the way they had been previously, for all that Severus thought that they would get along well. Perhaps the elder Potter would assume the relationship of older brother or uncle to the trio, but a quartet it would never be. Hagrid, being the simple and kind person that he was, would not be able to identify with the hard man Potter had become, though Severus felt that Hagrid would extend the hand of friendship nonetheless.

But who would truly understand the young man? Minerva and Poppy were wonderful people, but they couldn't understand a young man who had seen death and destruction in ways they couldn't even imagine, despite Minerva having lived through part of the war with Grindelwald and Poppy being a healer. Moody perhaps would understand Potter, but Severus felt the man may just be too paranoid to accept Potter as more than a brother-in-arms. Mrs. Weasley would attempt to coddle the young man, and Potter would probably let her, too, but she wouldn't understand him. It sounded as though Potter had enjoyed a friendship with William Weasley, and Severus felt a pang at the thought of the handsome curse breaker. Jealousy?

I am NOT jealous of a Weasley, he told himself firmly. Besides, wasn't the Weasley boy in a relationship with Fleur Delacour, the French part-Veela? Potter had spoken of him with the fondness of a friend, or even a brother, but Severus couldn't remember hearing anything more than that in the young man's tone.

They're both heterosexual, you imbecile, he berated himself, forcing his mind back onto the original topic. The Weasley twinshe thought would accept, if not understand, the older Potter. He didn't know Charlie Weasley well enough to tell, but that might be a potential friend for the lonely man as well. Percival was completely out of the question, of course.

Then, reluctantly, Severus admitted to himself what had started the mental list in the first place. I am the only one, he thought with a strange sense of awe mixed with sadness. He had never thought he would be the only one to understand a Potter. I am the only one who knows the Dark Lord's cruelty, he thought, who has watched Death Eaters killing and torturing. I am the only one who has faced that particular darkness. And in the same breath he realized that Potter was the only one who understood him. The thought took his breath away.

I am the only one he has shared his memories with, he thought with stunned clarity. And suddenly he regretted not offering the same to the man in front of him. Potter had showed him his entire life, revealing without shame his childhood in an abusive home, the struggles he faced at Hogwarts, the trials of the war, even a few more personal moments with his friends and family – and Severus hadn't offered anything in return. Potter had exposed his very self to the Potions Master, trusting him intrinsically not to belittle a single thing about his life, and yet knowing very little about the man he had trusted with his every secret. Suddenly Severus wanted to share his life in return, feeling that the pranks he had suffered at the hands of the Marauders and the occasional beatings he had received from his drunkard father were slight in the face of everything this incredible man had gone through.

And yet he knew that he would never offer it to the man, and Potter would never ask such a thing of him. And so Severus attempted something he had never tried before – he used the Legilimens spell on a sleeping man.