#I got possessed by the Severitus demon again

[inkyarcturus]

CW: underage drinking, being drunk

More teen Harry Severitus antics:

The two had grown closer in the past year or two, its 6th year and everything seems to be calmer to an extent. They come up with a schedule where Harry goes to meet up with Severus on a weekly basis.

It started as extra defense or occlumency lessons but turns into a glorified excuse to be in one another’s presence.

That day, the Gryffindor are throwing an after Quidditch victory party. Harry tells Severus that he won’t meet up with him, wanting to spend his time as a normal teenager for once. All Severus does is nod, quietly disappointed but not enough to make it known.

There’s drinks involved, so so many drinks have been smuggled into the common room and there’s is a 100% chance that someone already spiked the pumpkin juice.

At least three Gryffindor are using the couch as a mock stage for their spontaneous band, singing songs the entire time Harry is there. The music is so loud everyone has to basically scream to be heard despite being right next to one another.

Harry’s using this as an excuse to lay back, relax a little after all the events of the previous days, weeks, months, years, honestly his entire life at this point. So he gets a little reckless, drinking 1 shot, then 2, then 3, and surely he’s down like 6 shots by now. By the end he’s come to the brilliant realization that he is a light weight.

Cursing his childhood starvation which caused his stunted height and forgetfulness (he forgot to eat earlier) he’s essentially bumbling around like an idiot.

He is plastered out of his mind and the brightly colored lights, loud music, screaming, touching, everything about the party is suddenly too much for him. All he wants is his dad. The silence of the dungeons, the soft glow of a fire place and the comfort of his room that Severus had made specifically for him during the summer.

Before he knows it he’s out of the common room, shutting the portrait and leaving all the noise behind him. He’s dazedly walking, functioning on muscle memory alone to bring him to Severus’s quarters.

He wasn’t even thinking about the possible consequences of an adult figuring out that he was drunk.

Thankfully, (or maybe unthankfully) Harry runs right into Severus on his walk to the dungeons, not even noticing him in his drunken stupor. Severus wraps his arms around him automatically.

“And what are you doing out past curfew so far away from the lions den, Mr. Potter?” the professor drawled out, still keeping his hold on Harry.

The drunk child squints up at him, “Dad? When did you get here?”

Before the man can stop himself, his hold tightens in shock at the title. Quickly grabbing his wand from his holster he performs a diagnostic spell.

0.145 Blood Alcohol Content

Merlin this boy does not do things by halves.

He sighs in relief however, “idiot boy.”

While the results were troubling and he would be taking points, giving him detention and a lecture tomorrow, it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed within a day. He had gotten used to the boy only using that title in traumatizing, near death scenarios. It was comforting to know that the child could use it unbidden outside of those contexts.

Deciding that the best solution is to simply bring him to their quarters as the Gryffindor tower was farther and likely still had the party going on, they head off.

Severus practically carries Harry back to the quarters. At first he tried simply guiding him with a hand on his back, but Harry’s lack of coordination was too painful to watch for long.

He opens the doors to their make shift home, laying Harry on the couch while he goes to grab some water in the hopes that it sobers him up a little.

As the professor goes to the kitchen, Harry’s gaze is glued to the fire place, mesmerized by its flames. His sitting in silence, contrary to how he usually behaves when near the man. He only reacts when the Professor returns with the glass of water and a slice of buttered toast to eat.

“Eat you foolish child, it’s a wonder you haven’t blacked out yet,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “nothing in your system and you decide to drink enough to knock out a hippogriff. I should withhold the hangover drought from you in the morning.”

The threat is empty. He knows he couldn’t stand seeing the-this-his boy in pain for any longer than absolutely necessary.

Harry doesn’t respond to his comments, being unable to focus on them because of the intoxication. He finishes his toast and water though. Apparently that was all his body had energy left for, choosing the couch as the perfect bed for the night. He lays down and curls up, staring up at his guardian.

Severus huffs but procures a blanket and some pillows for him, far too susceptible to his sad dog eye look. When Harry frowns and makes a small hand gesture towards him, non verbally asking that he tucks him in, the man obliges, hushing him while he does so.

Just like that the teen is out like a light.

The guardian removes his glasses and puts them off to the side. He brushes Harrys bangs off his face as he listens to the slow crackle of the fire and their combined breaths.

“What am I going to do with you?” Despite the words, there’s no mistaking the fondness in his tone.

He leaves the room, shutting off the light after one last look to make sure his boy was breathing.