Chapter Text
Mr. Potter, our new celebrity.
Harry stares at the words on his right forearm. That’s the last thing he expected to find when he rolled up his pyjama sleeve to scratch his itching arm. He’d known there was a good chance his soulmark would manifest soon, of course. He’ll be turning seventeen in less than a year, and your soulmark always manifests before the younger person comes of age.
Grimacing, Harry crawls under the blankets, pulling them up to his chin. Soulmates are supposed to love each other unconditionally, but Harry always knew, instinctively, that it wouldn’t be that way for him. So why does it feel like a punch to the gut to be proven right?
Worse than that, he feels guilty for wearing Snape’s words on his skin. Snape never would have chosen him if he had a choice in the matter, and while Harry never liked Snape, it doesn’t mean he wants him to be unhappy or alone. Closing his eyes, Harry pulls his knees to his chest.
Should I tell Snape? I don’t remember what my first words to him were, but I don’t think it was anything particularly unique. I’m pretty sure he won’t figure out it’s me on his own.
Harry bites his lip, trying to imagine how that conversation would go down. Snape has waited decades for his soulmark to manifest. He probably has all kinds of expectations for his soulmate that Harry could never dream of meeting.
No, it’s better not to say anything at all, especially as long as Voldemort is alive. Who knows what Voldemort will do if he somehow finds out about it? What if he kills Snape in an attempt to hurt Harry?
Harry shivers. He won’t be responsible for that. Besides, it’s easy enough to keep it a secret. He just has to make sure Snape doesn’t read his mind and avoid skin-to-skin contact with him, since touching each other is the only fail-safe way to find out if you truly are soulmates.
Harry rolls onto his other side and closes his eyes. He isn’t happy about his soulmark manifesting, but he’ll manage.
***
Harry tries to forget about the words on his forearm, but that’s easier said than done. Barely a week goes by without a soulmark manifesting on one of the older students. The topic is omnipresent, and it’s harder to listen to the conversations about it with a neutral mindset now that Harry knows he’ll never be with his soulmate. Harry wishes they would all shut up about it.
Snape doesn’t make it any easier to forget about his soulmark, either. They see each other regularly during class, and Harry can’t help but feel like Snape is acting differently. He’s less snarky and cruel during class and even helps some students when they are struggling with a spell. Has he come to the conclusion that his soulmate might be a student of his? Is that why he’s acting nicer? Is he worried he’ll scare his soulmate off?
Ron and Hermione admit that they noticed a change in Snape’s behavior, too, when Harry brings it up during breakfast one day.
“Maybe Dumbledore should have given him the Defence position years ago,” Ron mutters around a bite of toast. “Then we wouldn’t have had to deal with his nastiness all this time.”
Hermione snorts. “Oh, come on, Ron, Professor Snape’s change in behavior has nothing to do with his new position. He’s only been like this for three weeks or so.”
Harry’s stomach drops, and he barely listens to Ron and Hermione’s inevitable bickering. It’s been exactly three weeks since his soulmark manifested on his forearm. That only reinforces his suspicion that Snape’s changed behavior has something to do with it.
Harry hopes that’s not the case, though. It’d be so much better if Snape didn’t care one way or another, and there is a good chance he’s reading too much into it. After all, Snape hasn’t reached out to him through his soulmark yet, and he would have if he cared deeply about having a soulmate, right?
For now, Snape seems to ignore his soulmark as much as Harry does, and he hopes it will stay that way.
***
It’s almost as if his thoughts from earlier provoked fate because he wakes up that night from his burning soulmark. Groaning, Harry sits up and rolls up his sleeve. The words on his forearm look inflamed and feel hot to the touch. Immediately, his tiredness takes a backseat, and Harry closes his eyes, concentrating on what his soulmark is telling him.
Pain. So much pain.
Wincing, Harry lets out a shaky breath, trying to figure out what to do.
Someone is torturing him. What if Voldemort found out he’s a spy? He could kill him.
I can help him. I have to help him. I can’t be responsible for another person dying.
Taking a deep breath, Harry starts pulling Snape’s pain into his own body.
In a matter of seconds, he’s drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Grinding his teeth, Harry pushes through it, taking more and more of Snape’s pain. No matter how far he pushes himself, though, he doesn’t come close to reaching the end of it. Deliberately deciding to be in pain is harder than he expected. He could just pull back and the pain would stop… but then Snape would have to deal with it on his own.
“Come on,” Harry mutters to himself. “I’m better than that.”
If Voldemort really is about to kill Snape, he’ll need all the advantages he can get to escape. Harry takes a deep breath, suddenly glad that he always puts up a silencing charm before going to bed. Then, without allowing himself to think about it, Harry pulls the rest of Snape’s pain into his body all at once.
The full force of the Cruciatus curse washes over him, and it feels like he’s back at the graveyard, screaming his lungs out. He loses the ability to think, to do anything, really, but roll around, mentally begging for it to stop. But it doesn’t stop. It goes on and on, relentlessly, and when Harry feels like he’s about to lose his mind, the pain finally goes away, all at once.
Shaking, Harry tries to get control over his breath again. At least my silencing charm held up, Harry thinks grimly and rolls onto his back with the last strength he has left. He should probably get up and take a quick shower, covered in sweat as he is, but he can’t bring himself to move. Subjecting himself to the Cruciatus curse took all of his willpower, leaving him exhausted and weirdly empty inside.
I just hope it worked.
Swallowing, Harry runs a hand along his soulmark. It doesn’t feel hot anymore, and he can’t feel any more pain coming from it. Harry closes his eyes. There’s nothing more he can do. He doesn’t know where Snape is, so he can’t ask Dumbledore for help the way he did when Mr. Weasley was attacked.
He can only hope Snape will return to Hogwarts in one piece. Shivering, Harry curls up into a tight ball and sinks into restless sleep.
***
Harry gasps and sits up straight, looking around frantically. Something is wrong. It’s not a nightmare that woke him up, it’s-
Oh.
Harry glances down at his forearm. There’s concern coming from his soulmark, so thick Harry can almost taste it.
Snape is concerned about me, Harry thinks, dazed. Then he quickly corrects himself. No, he’s not concerned about me. He’s concerned about his soulmate.
Still, Harry can’t help but be surprised. Harry wasn’t the one who was tortured — not really, anyway. He simply chose to subject himself to the pain since it was the logical thing to do. Most people would have done the same. Still, it feels... nice, in a way, that Snape is checking up on him.
Rolling his shoulders, Harry takes a moment to analyze his own emotional state. Snape is clearly expecting some kind of response, and he doesn’t want to concern him any further by potentially sending him negative emotions.
Harry feels tired — this is the second time Snape jolted him awake this night — and there is still some of that emptiness from earlier left. But apart from that, Harry is doing okay. More than okay, actually, now that he knows Snape is still alive. Harry takes a deep breath and focuses on sending his emotions through his soulmark.
For a moment, Snape’s concern disappears. Then it comes back even stronger than before. Frowning, Harry stares into the distance, trying to figure out why his emotions caused that reaction. Hesitantly, Harry lets Snape feel his confusion. It would be much easier if they could exchange a few words. Maybe then Harry would understand where all that concern is coming from.
But that’s a dangerous thought. He shouldn’t want to understand what goes on in Snape’s head. He should want to stay as far away from him as possible, in fact. The concern Snape is sending isn’t real, anyway. He wouldn’t feel that way if he knew who his soulmate is.
Harry sends his exhaustion through his soulmark to let Snape know he’ll go back to sleep now. He feels a flicker of something from Snape before the man cuts it off abruptly.
All the better, Harry thinks, lying back down. Now we can go back to ignoring each other.