[SSHP] End of life

The Easter holidays have begun.The common room no longer had the usual laughter and laughter. In the library, all the students who stayed in the school were buried in their revisions, with death-like gray faces on their faces.Some of Harry's grades this semester were surprisingly good, but others were just as bad.He was preparing for the exam back then, and after such a long time, he has forgotten all the things he memorized by rote.

Because his grades were decent, and because he was still studying the Dark Arts with Snape, Hermione drew him a much more relaxed review schedule than Ron.Every morning for breakfast, he would look at the "Daily Prophet", Ron showed 120 points of incomprehension at the fact that he was still reading that newspaper, Harry just poked the pudding and gave Ron exactly the same as Hermione back then Answer: "We need to know our enemy."

On the second day of the Easter break, a big warning appeared on the front page of the Daily Prophet.Instead of Sirius grabbing the railing and snarling at everyone, that photo was still.A man is lying on the floor of a narrow room surrounded by rubbish.He was curled up in a ball, apparently dead.

"It's Walton McNeil!" Ron looked at the newspaper. He clearly recognized the executioner sent by the Ministry of Magic to execute Buckbeak in his third year. "He's dead?"

"Dead," Harry replied.This person was also a member of the Death Eaters who appeared in the cemetery. After answering the call again, many Death Eaters left their original lives and went to nowhere, maybe they went into hiding.He didn't know if McNeil had been censored by the Ministry of Magic since his interview appeared in The Quibbler, but judging by the paper alone, it was clear that his life and his luck were not very good.

A few days later, Harry noticed a death in Hermione's Muggle newspaper subscription.This time the man died next to a rubbish bin on the outskirts of London, looking as if he drank too much and choked on his own vomit.But somehow Harry felt that this man looked like a Death Eater who was hunting them down at Xenophilius' house.

And on the third-to-last day of the end of the Easter holiday, when Harry found out about Dolphin Roll's death again from the "Daily Prophet", he could no longer convince himself that it was a coincidence.

He hadn't given Harry a lesson since Snape had unceremoniously stated Harry's thoughts.Although he told Harry to "wait for the notification", whether to notify or not, the initiative was completely in his hands.Harry was also always a little embarrassed whenever he saw Snape in the Great Hall, and he wanted to give both parties a little time.But now that the Order of the Phoenix might have moved on, Harry felt he couldn't delay any longer.If he dragged on, Snape might ignore him to his death.

His ancient runes were almost done, and this was his last subject.He wouldn't survive the NEWTs, but he didn't want to face Hermione's rants for being too lazy to pass the OWLs, after all Hermione didn't know he wouldn't have to take the damn exams again.

At dinner, Harry ate very little due to extreme nervousness.He hadn't felt this tension in a long time.His hands were cold and slippery from sweating too much, and they were still trembling slightly when he held the fork.After dinner, Ron went to his only Quidditch practice of the week, and Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower to continue her review.He took his schoolbag and walked towards Snape's cellar.

"Are you planning on never calling me again if I don't come?" Harry demanded.He sat at the door of the potions office for half an hour, and finally had to use Parseltongue to command the doorknob before he walked in.Snape was writing something when he saw Harry come uninvited and looked up annoyed.

"Forget it." Harry said trying to calm down, seeing Snape's expression, he felt that if he continued to question him, he would be treated horribly.He held up the newspaper, trying to change the subject: "I found three Death Eaters dead during this time. Is there any action by the Order of the Phoenix?"

"It's not about—"

"It's none of your business, Potter?" Harry said sharply, waving the newspaper. "I'm at your request to keep running Occlumency, not to—"

Snape's face twisted suddenly.He held his left arm tightly.

Harry's questioning came to an abrupt end.He hurried forward, trying to grab Snape's arm.

Snape waved him away, quickly opened a small door next to the cupboard, and entered his bedroom.Half a minute later, he came out, almost finished wearing a thick black cloak with a hood.

"He's calling you?" Harry asked sharply.He looked at Snape, pacing up and down the middle of the office anxiously.

Snape strode to the fireplace and buttoned the last button.

"Could you not go, or—" said Harry.

"Go back to the dormitory! Shut down your mind, Potter!" Snape ordered briefly.Without looking back, he lit the fireplace with a flick of his wand, threw in a handful of floo powder, and disappeared into the fireplace.

Harry watched the flames in the fireplace turn from green to red as he went to the door and grabbed his schoolbag and put it down again.With the candle still burning, he stroked the doorknob in the orange light, and after five minutes, decided to refuse to obey Snape's order.Just stay in the safety of his office, he won't kill him.

He put his schoolbag by Snape's desk, sat in Snape's chair, and opened a copy of Standard Spells, Level Seven.The candles grew shorter and Harry became more and more restless as the days passed.

The fireplace in Snape's office was rarely used, perhaps to keep the pots on the wall from spoiling.The fire in the grate was nearly extinguished, only a few red embers remained.Harry stared at the embers.

The surface of the burnt wood turned from dazzling bright orange to dark red, and gradually began to show black spots one by one.Harry jumped to his feet and walked restlessly up and down the potions office.

He wanted to connect Voldemort's brain through the soul piece on his head, so that he could see how far the Death Eater party was going.For a split second, he almost did.But Snape's warning order before he left suddenly came to mind, pulling him back to his sanity - if Snape found out that he didn't heed the warning, he would be in a hundred times more pain than he is now.

Harry had to admit that besides provocation and taunting, Snape had more ways to make his life worse than death.

After No. 12 tapped the magic clock, Harry sat down against the fireplace.He couldn't help thinking of all the ways Snape might have been treated, memories that had been so distant coming back to life.Death Eaters writhing on the dirty carpet, and people hanging over the long table.He still vividly remembered the name of the Muggle Studies teacher, despite their brief time together.Charleigh Burbage--he felt he could almost see her pale face, her neck limply upturned, the tears running from the corners of her eyes into her hair.It's like replaying the scene.He still remembered Voldemort whispering, "Dinner, Nagini." The next thing that came to life was the cage rolling around Snape's shoulders, and the cold Parseltongue: "Kill."

Harry's blood rushed to his head, his body and limbs were cold and shaking.The copper frame of the fireplace was icy cold, and he pressed his face against it, feeling a little calmer.Then he grabbed a few pieces of wood and stuffed them into the fireplace, lit them with a spell, and continued leaning against the fireplace, curled up in a ball.

I don't know how long it took, and when Harry felt that his thoughts seemed to be dragging and freezing, a huge black figure stepped out from the fireplace, took a staggered step, and fell on the carpet.Harry raised his head abruptly, trying to stand up, but his knees became stiff from staying in the same position for a long time, and he rolled to the ground in a similar way to that black shadow.He bared his teeth, because it was obvious within a few seconds that his legs could not perform their duties, he first rolled towards the shadow twice, and then rolled and crawled to the shadow.

Snape seemed to be lying face down on the ground, motionless.Harry turned him around with force, his right hand moved as if about to cast a spell, and Harry reached out quickly to get hold of Snape's wand.He found that within half a second, the tip of his wand was aimed at him.

Very strong fighting spirit.

"Potter...?" Snape frowned, his voice indistinguishable.His face and lips were pale and pale, and Harry managed to read a deep disapproval from it.This faint, under-revealed evil told him that if Snape had any strength left, he was bound to get nowhere.

Snape's right hand relaxed, it seemed that he had confirmed his safety, and relaxed some of his vigilance.Harry also let go of Snape's left hand, and then turned his gaze back to Snape's face.Those black eyes were distracted and closed after a few seconds.

Startled, Harry stretched out his hand to feel Snape's heartbeat.Under the thick robe, the beating of the heart was so weak that it could be ignored.Harry left his hand there for a while, then felt for Snape's breathing, which was weak and uneven.He frantically unbuttoned Snape's robe, revealing a pale and solid part of his chest, and Harry put his hand on Snape's heart, where it was cold and cold.

The fire from the fireplace did not illuminate the man lying on the ground.Harry lit his wand and leaned over to look.The position of the heart is a large piece of light blue, and a few light red blood vessels can be faintly seen.Now Harry confirmed it, at least 15 minutes of Cruciatus.

During the year in exile in the British Isles, Harry had already read all the miscellaneous books Hermione brought with him.Among them is an introduction to healing spells. The last chapter is devoted to popularizing the various external reactions after black magic acts on the human body. What kind of curse was attacked.The three Unforgivable Curses are also listed here-of course, the manifestation of Avada Kedavra on the human body can only be used for autopsy rather than treatment.The Cruciatus Curse acts on the heart. During the duration of the spell, the violent contraction of the heart will increase the burden on the blood vessels. As time goes by, the thick heart veins will turn red like burning, and the skin will also turn blue and cold accordingly. .

But the human body's repair function should not be underestimated.The color became as distinct as Snape's chest was now, something only prolonged torture could do.Harry picked up Snape's upper body, he noticed that Snape's body trembled from time to time, the hair hanging on one side was not greasy but wet, soaked in cold sweat.Although the pale face did not have many wrinkles, it was not as haggard as a young wizard in his thirties, but closer to a Muggle of this age.

"Dedidant coming," said Harry.He knew from memory that Snape kept some common potions in his office.A few seconds later, the cabinet opened, and several small bottles flew into his palm.He uncorked the bottle and poured it into Snape's mouth in a panic. Fortunately, he was still able to swallow, but several minutes passed and he still didn't wake up.

Harry touched Snape's heart again with trembling lips. It was still beating, his whole chest was still cold, and so were his hands.Then he reached for Snape's wand, picked it up and put it in his hand, said the Levitation Charm in a trembling voice, levitating Snape all the way to the back room and into the bathtub.

Undressing Snape didn't burden Harry's mind, in fact he didn't even look at the body he'd been wondering about for so long, and he was racking his brains to remember it.The effect of the palliative was only temporary. He knew that there was one and only one potion that could relieve the aftereffects of Cruciatus, but he couldn't remember which one it was.Snape had clearly fallen into a coma after relaxing, and he couldn't tell Harry what potion he needed - Harry made sure he could take his taunt, ignored it, and brought it for him very submissively.But Snape's head was resting limply on the edge of the bathtub, and in the bright light of the bathroom, Harry noticed the criss-cross purple and black marks on the man's back and the teeth marks on the pale lower lip.no blood.

He hadn't underestimated the dangers of Snape's espionage.But it wasn't until now that he really realized what Snape was up against.

His memory suddenly returned to that distant night.The cold, stale, dusty air, the teeth marks on the neck, the blood that gradually became colder and thicker, the mark of sudden hypothermia on the forehead.The thread of memory flowing with silver light, and the spell activated in despair.

He thought of walking in the gap of time, chanting that name over and over again, just not to lose himself, to find the original world.He saw so many stiff corpses, but in so many parallel worlds, there were still so many warm embraces, half sad and half courageous.He plucked up the courage to do it all over again, just to never lose this silent protection, and not to lose the people he loves.

He knew that Snape had survived because Dumbledore had used Lily to force him, and the man couldn't refuse anything to do with Lily.This decision made Harry owe him - he lived to protect Harry Potter.Because Harry Potter is still alive, he continues to stay in this world without Lily with hatred, suffering and misunderstanding.And now that everything is no longer unforgettable, he still decided to do it all over again, just because of his sense of responsibility.This sense of responsibility tormented him constantly.

"Sorry." Harry said softly.He would continue to force Snape to live, he didn't want to lose Snape.Although Snape himself has always said that death is a relief.

He lowered his gaze to the water.The hot water gradually overflowed over the man's knees, abdomen, and shoulders, and the dense heat steamed upwards.Harry put Snape's wand on the edge of the bath and cast an anti-fog charm on his own glasses. Ten minutes later, he reached into the water and found that Snape's body was still cold and shaking. "I'm going to Madam Pomfrey—" he said in a teary voice.

"No." Harry heard a weak, almost whispering voice, but it was by no means an auditory hallucination.Surprised, he moved his eyes up to Snape's face, and the black eyes slowly opened and closed again.

"What kind of potion do you want? I'll get it." Snape seemed to hear someone say, it was Potter.But he couldn't respond.Cruciatus that lasted more than 20 minutes almost destroyed all his mobility and senses. What he heard in his ears was more of a sharp and continuous humming, mixed with Potter's voice.He couldn't concentrate, he couldn't make out what the boy was yelling about, he couldn't even open his lips to shut up the idiot.The cold that emanates from the inside out collides with the hot water on the surface of the skin, causing pain, but this pain is negligible compared to the pain of the heart.He was sure that his soul had been damaged to a certain extent, but he couldn't confirm the extent of the damage.

If the soul is likened to a piece of porcelain, the Cruciatus Curse this time will only bring about tiny cracks.Let it go.Snape thought dazedly.These little fissures would not destabilize his soul enough to prevent him from using powerful spells, just endure it for another year—and never mind.He'd kill Dumbledore again, and then his china would get dusty that couldn't be wiped off.He would need no more spells until the very last moment when he was torn apart and finished.

After an unknown amount of time, in a semi-conscious state, Snape felt something furry rubbing against his neck.The skin is almost numb and very insensitive.He felt his shoulders being tightened by something, and the warm breath sprayed on his shoulders and neck.

It took him a while to realize vaguely that it was Harry Potter.This little idiot who should have hated him but didn't know why he suddenly became obsessed with him hadn't left yet, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and leaning over to hug him tightly, his body shaking harder than him.He is a little confused.

After a long silence, Snape made out the sound of weeping.Potter was crying, more and more uncontrollably, louder, and was still babbling his name as he cried.

Snape frowned subtly.

Potter cried even harder.Even with the buzzing in his ears, Snape could still clearly make out the sound of Potter sniffing desperately, the sound was so close that it was deafening.The feeling that gradually recovered told him that there was still a hand touching his face, his hand.Then one hand turned into two, and they rubbed his cheeks hard, squeezed his hands and arms, and there was a desperate, suppressed wail: "Don't die again, don't leave me again! Severus Warm up! Please—!”

"I'm not dead yet, Potter!" Snape couldn't take it anymore, and said with all his strength.His feeble voice was muffled by an uncontrollable sob, and he almost thought his efforts were in vain.The next thing the choking stopped suddenly, there was a splash, a wave of water rushed against his jaw violently, and he realized it was Potter who had jumped into the tub.Potter straddled his lap, hugging him like a bear, squeezing his ribs with all his strength and pressing his head into the hollow of his neck.After crying loudly for at least 5 minutes, the boy stopped crying, sobbed once and for all, and rubbed his face against his neck from time to time.Still thin after years of good living and Quidditch training, the boy's sharp chin rested on the back of his neck, twitching from crying, poking him occasionally.

The bathroom fell into a temporary calm.The sound of sobbing at longer and longer intervals, and the gurgling sound of the heated water from the magic faucet became more and more clear in Snape's gradually regaining clarity.The boy sniffed, and he had kept his face buried in his neck for a long time.He rubbed lightly again, seemed to have found a comfortable position, and stopped moving.

The pain in the heart is relieving, and the fingertips have some heat.Snape opened his eyes slightly, his wand was thoughtfully placed within reach, Potter was indeed in the bathtub, and he didn't even take off his clothes.After the intense mental and physical tension, Snape felt exhausted.He listened to the monotonous and gentle sound of water, and his thoughts became uncontrollably slow and hazy.

He was vaguely aware that this was the first time he'd seen Potter cry.

He sighed silently and closed his eyes.

The author has something to say: is it sweet...?

I tried my best to write today's two chapters.It was planned from the beginning of this article.Hey hey.Today's chapter was planned a few years ago, when I was discussing it with readers, she said it was abusive, but I thought it might be.Xiao Yuyi has a love.laugh.