Oh, this is just a little something when I got bored... lovely, neh? Well, I will maybe post another chapter later tonight. OOOH! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Oh for the love of- I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER

Flat On The Floor

Harry Potter Slash


Ichigo Kurosawa

Chapter One

Not like I need to depend upon anyone

Since I can see the lack of need for you to be here at all

"One more" the anthem for the know-it-all

You won't be standing for long

You better learn how to crawl

(Flat on the Floor - Nickelback - The Long Road)

Suffocating. Weighing down on his very being.

The sudden pain filled his body to the point of excruciating, evil tendrils of fingers spreading slowly over his body to caress every area of his flesh. Hands clutched feebly at frail shoulders, shaking near violently from the immense pain. His head felt to be throbbing painfully, tugging at his optical nerves and causing him to lose vision. Never would he know just how long this would last, nor would the great Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort-Only-To-Be-Killed-By-Pain ever know when it was his conscious left the world of light to hide in the darkest corners of his mind.

"Oh my..."

Cold, hardened obsidian orbs peered up to the old coot through long midnight bangs, a glare permanently etched on his features. Fingers curled tightly in his sleeves; he had felt such an immense pain he promptly fell over in the middle of his lesson, clutching his head in pain. This wasn't normal. Never before had he felt such pain.

"What is it, Albus?"

McGonagall, nasty old wretch in his opinion, was currently talking in a hushed voice to the just as old coot (had he mentioned that already?) of a man, Dumbeldore. Severus Snape, there against his will mind you, snarled rather darkly and tried to hide the trembling of his hands. This action did not matter, as the two were so absorbed in what ever in bloody Merlin's name was going on.

"What am I missing!?"

They both jumped and turned to him when his already harsh voice sounded throughout the room, a satisfied smirk hidden. But his streak of satisfaction ended when Dumbeldore gave him... 'the look.' The damned look where his eyes twinkled, like he knew something massively important.

"It would seem Mister Potter has finally come into his Inheritance. And it would seem... the effect has passed onto you, my dear boy."

His eyes narrowed; Severus did not like where this was heading.

"This is special to my interest for the simple reason of...?"

"My lad, I am not allowed to explain this. However, the Shachar(1) withen Harry has reared its head and I believe you should go retrieve him."

Shachar? What in Merlin's name was a Shachar? Guess Severus would have to find out later. Making a noise (Snape does not grumble), Severus stood to quickly walk from the office, making sure his cloak billowed far more than normal. After all, he was very... tiffed about this whole situation.

He was freaking out.

Harry Bloody Potter, bloody fucking Saviour of the Wizarding World, was having a physical break down.

The pain had finally ceased when Harry regained consciousness, but there was an entirely new problem to deal with- he couldn't see. Absolutely nothing. Everything was shrouded in a veil of pitch black. His back settled on the ground, eyes unblinking while internally, he screamed; he ranted; he sobbed. Anything to make him feel better.

The palms of his hands had rubbed at his eyes several times, hoping to wipe away whatever was causing his vision lose, but all attempts were in vain. Nothing was wiping the blackness from his vision, and Harry was terrified. Now, he was even more of a freak.

Heaving a sigh, the boy stood, albeit shakily, and made his way to the bed after groping along the walls, stubbing his toes a few times. Oh how wretched this was! Never again would Harry let someone laugh at the blind.

"Oh for Merlin's sakes, Potter. Your room may be dark, but not quite the horrid. Though I cannot say the same for the condition of said room."

Harry jumped near ten feet in the air at the sound of his git of a Professor's voice. Never before had it sounded so plesant. Harry could just melt. But there were far more pressing matters to attend to. As in...

"Um, sir?"

"What could it possibly be, Potter?"

"Where are you?"

Harry heard the long, awkward pause. Oh, that may not have been such a grand thing to say. Faintly, he heard the familiar click of a lightswitch, but it made no difference. Everything was still shrouded in blackness.

"Obviously, right here Potter. I hadn't a clue your eyes were that useless."

Oh, Snape hadn't a clue.

"Um... Sir...?"

"What is it Potter!? If you cannot tell, you're starting to wear my nerves thin."

"Nevermind, Sir. I suppose this means Dumbeldore wants me back at Hogwarts."

"Yes, Potter. Now get your stuff together."

Harry gulped, quietly he hoped, as Snape had yet to leave the room. Fumbling around the room while trying to keep his sudden blindness hidden, the Saviour gathered all his things and stood there. A snort came from Snape before Harry heard the cloak swish and ran after the man, knowing somehow the man had left.

Again... oh, how wretched this was.

"Honestly Potter, how hard is to walk without tripping over your own two feet?"

Harry suddenly felt dead inside. It was extremely hard with no sight. A lot harder than he thought it would be, considering he had walked most of his life. Stumbling after Snape, the poor boy almost ran into him when the man stopped to say the password to head in the Headmaster's Office.

A growl came from the taller man who turned to smack at Harry's head, knowing the boy would duck. However, Harry did no such thing and instead just stumbled slightly when he was hit over the head. Snape's frows furrowed in suspicion as Harry righted himself and casted his eyes downward.

"Hurry Potter. I have no time for this nonsense."

Snape barely did, but he noticed the expression on Harry's face grow more and more depressed. Maybe he was missing something. Obviously he was if Harry kept running into walls and tripping over his own two feet. Snarling, he quickly went up the stairs, the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort struggling to keep up with him and not fall down the stairs.

Soon, Harry released a breath.

"Why hello Harry, my boy!"

"Hello Headmaster!"

If Harry could see, he would have run up and hugged Dumbeldore. Sure, he figured out that maybe Dumbeldore was only using him, but the man apologized profusely and promised never to send Harry back to his Aunt and Uncle... and he didn't. He let Harry stay in a manor somewhere hidden in the Alps.

"My Harry... you're all bruised. I suppose it's the Inheritance?"

So that's what happened.

"Um... yes Sir. And Professor Snape didn't exactly help. Far too fast."

He figured Dumbeldore knew what he was talking about.

"Severus, though young Potter here could have followed you easily in the past, he can no longer. Do hold your tongue. I will give you a book to study up on and find out what, exactly, is wrong with Harry."

Harry smiled as he heard something heavy land in the male's hands, stifling a giggle as Snape grunted and walked off.

"Now Harry... do tell me how it is..."

(1) Shachar is a creature entirely of my creation. I shall explain it and the meaning next chapter. Promise.

R & R, luvelies