Hey guys! Okay, so this has been and idea of mine for sometime now. I have wanted to do a Snape/Harry story forever.

Anyways, I hope you like it, and I hope it makes you all sad, but don't worry...the author informed me it wasn't a oneshot...lol XD

Dislaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The master mind behing that plot was J.K. Rowling all the way.

Harry sat on the ledge of the glassless Astronomy Tower window. His legs were hanging over the side, his hands resting next to him. It was the middle of December and he was freezing, but he couldn't feel it. He hadn't felt much this year at all.

It was his seventh year in Hogwarts, and he had spent it studying for his N.E.W.T.s, ignoring everything else but his schoolwork. His friends were worried about him, the teachers as well, but he didn't really care. Not anymore; not since he had lost everyone he loved, one person in particular in a different way than the others.

It had been just before the end of sixth year. Dumbledore had died the beginning of that year due to a heart attack. He had had problems with his heart for some time but he had never worried about it. He figured he would die when the time came; for Harry, that time came to soon. After just losing Sirius, he had needed someone to go to, someone to tell him everything would be alright. His godfather, and his mentor since entering the wizarding world were dead, and he was all alone. He had no control over his own pain and he was tired of it.

In Harry's need for that control, he began cutting himself. Watching the razor slide across unmared flesh, splitting it open; blood seeping from the open wound like a waterfall of red, gave a sense of power he had never had before. And he loved it.

Everynight, he would come to the Astronomy Tower, sit with his legs dangling over the edge of the window, and cut his arms, legs, chest, stomach; at least three times, if not more. He would let the blood flow freely for a minute or two before healing the gash. He would make sure the scars would stay; he wanted a reminder of his control.

This continued for about 2 weeks after Dumbledore's death, before he was caught in the act. He had made the mistake of coming out after curfew and just as he had started on the second cut, so enraptured by the power flooding his veins, that he hadn't even noticed the door open and a man cloaked in all black walk up to him.

A hand had reached out to stop Harry from making his next slash, a deathly pale hand; one he knew form watching him chop up potion ingredients during class and in detentions. He had looked up into the coal black eyes of Severus Snape, as usual not seeing any emotion on the older man's face.

"What are you doing, Potter? Surely even you can't be melodramatic enough to off yourself? What good would that do?"

Harry hadn't replied, just set down his razor, murmured the healing charm he learned to keep the scars; yanked his wrist from the Potion Master's grasp, and left the tower.

He hadn't gone back for a few nights after that, hoping maybe to lull Snape into thinking he had stopped, but he should have known the Professor wasn't stupid enough to fall for that.

When he went back, Snape had been sitting on the window ledge, looking as if he had been waiting for him.

"You won't be cutting yourself again, Harry."

It had been the first time he had called Harry anything but his surname. His voice; that deep, velvety voice; had had a gentle touch to it. Nothing someone who hadn't heard him speak with only disdain would know, but all Harry had ever received from the man was hate; so he knew when something was different.

He had sat next to the man, albeit cautiously; they had sat there in silence for quite some time before Snape had said something that had shocked Harry so deeply he still sometimes had a hard time believing it had been said.

"I want you to come to me, when you fell the need to harm yourself again. I know I haven't been the nicest person, but I don't like seeing you hurt either."

Snape had seemed rather reluctant to voice such a thing, but he hadn't seemed insincere in his offer either. It was what had made Harry agree to it in the first place.

He had done what Snape had suggested; he had come to the Slytherin Head of House, when he felt the need for that control. He would usually be in tears by the time he got down to the man's rooms, needing that feeling, that power. He didn't know how or why it helped to be with the Potion's master, it just did. Maybe it was because Dumbledore had been his mentor as well and he missed the old man just as much as Harry did; though he would never admit to it.

Mostly, he went there every other night and Snape would talk him through it, and make him feel better about a lot of things. He couldn't believe this was the same man who had hated him his entire life because of his father. He was being kind...well as kind as Snape could be. He would reassure Harry that everything that had happened, happened for a reason. He might not have liked what occured, but the outcome would always be better in the end.

He coudn't pinpoint exactly when things went from Snape being his confidant and, dare he say, friend, to something more. He thought that maybe it started when, one night he had started to ask Snape a question, starting it off with 'Professor Snape'. He had quickly been cut off, the Potion's Master's tone surprisingly timid.


Harry had been confused for a moment, "What?"

"Call me Severus. It is my name after all."

Harry had sat stunned for a few minutes, before shaking himself out of it and smiling softly, "Severus."

The name had felt so good to say; he had forgotten what he had wanted to ask in the first place.

After that, there were subtle touches and soft words. Sometimes, Harry would come down, and they would sit in Severus' study talking about everything and nothing, all the while with the Potion's Master holding Harry in his arms. Later, when Harry was leaving for the night, he kissed Severus' cheek softly...before making a mad dash out of the room.

About a week after that, Severus had apparently had enough.

"Damn it Harry. I can't do this anymore."

Harry had immediately thought that he meant he didn't want him around anymore, but before he could put voice to any of his thought, Severus had noticed his expression and rushed to relinquish them.

He knelt down in front of Harry, taking the ebony haired boys' hands into his own, "I meant I can't keep doing this without you knowing how I feel Harry."

Harry had relaxed slightly and nodded at Severus for him to continue.

The older man took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "Harry, I...I want you. I haven't wanted anyone this way in a long time, but I want to be able to call you mine."

Harry had been shocked for a minute. Severus must have taken his silence as rejection, because his face had fallen momentarily before hardening. He had stood up and made to move away, but Harry regained his senses quick enough to stop him. He stood up swiftly, grabbing Severus' hips and pulling their bodies flush together.

"Don't you dare," he whispered before wrapping his hand around the back of the older man's nape, pulling his lips down to meet his own.

The kiss had been like nothing he had ever felt before. Their lips moved together, tongues twisting around the other; large, capable hands had moved down Harry's body to his arse, cupping the firm cheeks, kneeding them enticingly. Harry's hands were twined into Severus' hair, pulling gently at the strands. The kiss had quickly escalated from gently but firm to fiercely passionate.

Severus was the first to break away, much to Harry's disappointment, "Harry, I want you, right now."

"Then take me. Make me yours." Harry panted out his reply. He locked eyes with his, hopefully, soon-to-be-lover, trying to show him he meant what he said. Severus searched for that approval, and having found it, used his leverage on Harry's arse to left him up; Harry instinctavely wrapping his legs around the older man's waist. Severus walked them to the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him.

That had been Harry's first time with anyone. Harry had been rather self-concious at first; there were scars all over his body from the razor he used to frequent. Severus had gone slow, tracing every scar on his body with his fingers, then his tongue; Harry was sure his entire body had felt the lips of that man. When the time came, slow, drawn out thrusts were made into his writhing body and they had cried out each others' names as they came togethor, before falling asleep wrapped securely in a mass of arms and legs.

Harry had spent the rest of his 6th year blissfully happy with the man he was falling in love with. He would spend as much time as possible with Severus, though most of the time he would be studying or doing homework as the older man worked on some potion or another. But what they were doing didn't matter; what mattered was that they were together. And before they would fall asleep each night, they would make love. Severus had even aloud Harry to enter his body from time to time; though Harry much prefered feeling his lover's hard cock thrust into his willing body, he was happy Severus trusted him enough to know Harry wouldn't hurt him.

The summer was spent at the Dursley's, exchanging letters via owl post to one another. Though his summer sucked do to his location, talking to Severus helped a lot. He had long since told the man what went on when he was there. In turn, Severus had told him what he could about his childhood; the fact the he didn't like to talk about it at all, made Harry love the man even more.

Thankfully, after a summer full of chores, foodless days, and letters from his friends and Severus, the school year started. He still had to deal with Voldemort, but he knew what he had to do with that situation, so he wasn't to worried any more.

Unfortunately, Harry life decided to take a turn for the worst; and it was all his fault it happened. Him and his big mouth.

Harry rememebered it like it had happened just yesterday.

It had been his first night back in Hogwarts and he had Severus were laying in bed together, having just finished a rather wonderful reunion. He had missed the warm body of his lover terribly and couldn't be happier to have him again.

Before he could stop himself, he said the one thing that was probably the worst thing he could have said to Severus Snape. Three little words that would ruin his happiness.

"I love you," He hd whispered against the skin on the older man's naked chest, tightening his arm around his lover.

Severus had stiffened immediately, moving himself out from under Harry's body. His entire body language turned cold, defensive.

"I think you should leave."

With that little sentence, Harry felt tears well up in his eyes. "Please don't make me leave. I'm sorry if I upset you. I hadn't-"

Severus apparently didn't want to hear it.

"I don't care what you meant. I want you to leave." He was slipping on his robe, not even looking at Harry now.

"Why? What did I do wrong?"

Severus sighed dramatically. He didn't turn around to look at Harry sitting on his bed, speaking as if the last months had never happened. "I should have known you would take this farther then it would ever go. I can't believe you fell in love with me like some naive teenage girl would their first lover. This never would have gone farther than fucking Harry. I'm shocked you don't know me better, after all these years."

Harry couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe what he had just heard. But, as he watched Severus walk from the room, saying Harry needed to leave now, he knew Severus meant it. He really should have known better.

Harry numbly moved to gather his clothes, slowly pulling them on; he was still holding on to the hope that maybe Severus would change his mind.

But all stalling did was cause him more heart ache.

He walked out into the living room of Severus' rooms. Severus was sitting on the couch, nonchalantly reading a book.

"This has been fun, Harry. But it has to end. I have no time for a child who fancies himself in love with me."

Harry just about collapsed from the pain he felt at that statment. "Why are you doing this? Don't you care for me at all?"

Severus looked contemplative for a moment and there was something in his eyes that told Harry that maybe he wasn't to far off the mark, but it was quickly replaced with his usual cold mask.

"No. I only offered my time to you in the beginning because I promised Dumbledore I would take care of you. I have done my part...apparently to well."

"But you shared things about yourself with me; let me in farther than most have ever gotten. How can all of what we've had be because of a promise?" Harry was almost to the point of hyperventilating and he was having such a hard time breathing that he could see black spots in vision; all tell tale signs of passing out any minute now. He had to get the hell out of here.

Severus looked as if he was getting impatient now. He stepped towards Harry, and for a minute, the hope came back, but it was shot down as quickly as it had come.

"Harry, I couldn't very well expect you to open up to me if I just asked about you; I had to give away some information as well. Besides, I had to say something to get you into my bed. You have gotten nowhere near as close to me as you think. The only thing I feel for you is physically; but by the way your acting now, that desire is almost completely deminished. Now, if you are done, would you please leave me alone? I have much better things to do with my time than watch you work yourself up over nothing." He was talking to Harry as if he were slow, trring to make him comprehend he didn't want him.

Harry couldn't think of anything else to say, wasn't coherent enough through the pain of losing another person he loved to think of anything to say. All he did was walk to the door and once it was open; he ran. Running, running, running; he didn't stop running until he felt he was far enough away from the dungeons. He saw a space up ahead, not very deep, but hidden away enough that no one would know he was there.

He sat in the alcove, bringing his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them; rocking himself back and forth. He cried as he never had before, sobs ripping up his throat and out his mouth. He was glad he had remembered a silencing charm; it wouldn't do any good for someone to find him this way.

This hurt worse than losing Dumbledore, even Sirius, had. Sirius had been the first person who actually saw him as family because his father had been like a brother to the man. Sirius hadn't just been a godfather to him, he had been like his father. Dumbledore had been there for him since the day he entered the wizarding world. He had been there for him after Sirius' death, letting him destroy his office. He had done everything he could to keep Harry safe, even if there were a few mistakes on the way. Even going so far as to ask the man who had hated him simply for existing to take care of him. He wasn't sure anymore if that had been a good thing or not.

But this...this was far worse than that had been. This felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on in front of him, leaving nothing more than a bloody mess at his feet and a gapping hole in its place. His heart had stayed with the man who had brought him back to life just to kill him all over again.

About a month later, Voldemort had decided to end this once and for all, leading an attack against Hogsmeade, planning to head up to Hogwarts to finish it. He had finshed it alright; just not with the outcome he had expected.

He had fallen at the gates of Hogwarts with a long knife protruding from his chest; his death at the hands of a muggle item. Harry had hit his heart dead center, and the Death Eaters had been so overcome with pain from the Dark Mark vanishing that seizing them had been easy. He had watched as his love had fallen to his knees, cluching his forearm; Severus had dropped his mask long enough to scream at the seering pain shooting through his body. He had desperately wanted to go to him and hold him through the pain. It must have been worse for it to disappear than it had been to receive. Peter Pettigrew had been captured, and even though he was no longer alive, Sirius' name was finally cleared. Harry only wished he had been there to be able to revel in the freedom.

After that, everything had gone back to normal, well as normal as it ever had been for him. He was thrust back into the spotlight, the very place he hated; praised for saving them all. Harry had tuned most of that out, not in the mood to hear any of it. He had done what he had to do; he saved the people he loved, that was all he cared about.

So now, Harry had no reason to be here. He smiled sadly down at the letter in his pocket; it was to Severus when they found his body.

He stood slowly, carefully, seeing as his legs and arms had gone numb from the cold. He didn't want to fall before he was ready. He had thought this through a thousand times and he knew it was what he would do. What was the reason for him to stay here? In this life so full of pain? It seemed that was all he felt anymore. The pain of loss more often than not. He didn't want to feel it anymore. Besides, the wizarding world had got what they wanted; Voldemort was defeated. Who was there to miss him anymore, to need him around?

Sure, Hermione and Ron might miss him, but throughout the last few months those two had gotten together and as they drifted closer, Harry drifted farther away. They would have each other, they wouldn't need him anymore. He didn't have many other friends to worry about missing him; the one person he wwanted to miss him would probably be happy to be rid him. The Slytherins would probably rejoice in the news of his death. He knew at least Draco would; he was responsible for his father's current 10 year imprisonment (not long enough in Harry's opinion) after all.

Harry took a deep breath, inhaling the cold winter air one last time. It felt good rushing into his lungs, replenishing his air supply; not that he would need it to much longer.

Harry looked down at the ground below him, noting how far of a fall it would be. But, surpirisingly, he couldn't bring himself to be afraid. All his pain would be over soon.

He took one last look at the door behind him, as if will alone could bring Severus to him, to come in and stop him; but after a minute, he gave up on that hope as well. Severus had saved his life once, more than once, because eventually, he would have killed himself with that razor; and now, because of his own naive mind and heart, he would finally die.

No...he would finally have peace.

With that thought in his head, Harry let his eyes fall closed, just as he let his body fall from the window ledge. The air whistled around him as he fell, down, down, down.

When he hit the ground, he passed out from the pain in his body; but to him, it was his salvation.

'I love you, Severus Snape.'

Well? What do you think? I hope you like it.

I realize I have this kind of...fetish so to speak, with Harry being the victim in my angsty stories. I just can't picture Harry being the one to hurt anyone, be it intentional or otherwise.

Nevertheless, I hope I don't disappoint anyone with this story, though it probably won't be very long. I can never make my angst stories last all that long.

As always, review and tell me what you think. XD Thank you.