Author's Note: Hey. So this is a short one that just popped into my head late last night and made me write it down. Originally I thought it was going to be a 'Harry's afraid of the dark'-sort of story, but this is what came out. Hope you like it, and please review and tell me what you think :)



There are different kinds of darkness.

There's the comfortable dark, the soft, warm dark of a cupboard under the stairs. A safe dark, a dark away from people yelling and chores to be done. It's Harry's dark, his own.

There is the big, vast darkness. With basilisks and monsters hiding in the shadows, their breaths just ghosting at the back of his neck. That darkness is the worst, the most terrifying. When the dark is just covering up something too terrible to be seen.

There is the cold dark of death. The nothingness behind the veil. Harry hasn't had much experience with that, but it seems peaceful. It seems quiet and cool, and restful. He hopes it's like that.

And then there's Severus Snape. Whose darkness Harry thought was frightening at first, frightening just like a bottomless hole, but just as thrilling to look deep into. He's also the sort of shadow that's always in the background, soothing, there for him to fall back on. The dark and quiet that calms his aching head.

Severus Snape, who's not really dark at all, but every shade of the spectrum.



There are many types of light.

There's the warm, cozy light of a fire which flickers on the walls of Severus' study, licking at the bookshelves. The light of a wand that illuminates the unknown, the cloudy. Severus likes this one. It's familiar and plain and homey.

There is the dry sunlight that shines through the windows of an empty classroom, which shines on the specks of dust in the air. The quiet, breathless sort of light that exists on a sunny day, when you have nothing to do but lie in the grass.

There is the welcome light of forgetting. The light that flows through you like a wave and leaves no scars of bad memories left, no old ugly wounds. The light Severus longs to face. Blissful forgetfulness.

And then there is Harry Potter. Whose fire can torch anything. Who explodes and lashes out like the uncontrollable flames of a forest fire. Who beams, who's radiant. Who, like a sunrise, almost makes him have to look away. Who can make him forget, even if it's just for a short while.

Harry Potter, who has no idea how brightly he shines.