Cut It Deeper (Being Rewritten In A New Version)

Chapter 1 by author TheShyEmoChild.

He climbed the stairs of the third floor carefully, accurately measuring how far behind the boy he should walk. When they had reached the door that once had led to the revolting three headed dog, Potter turned and set upon the next flight of stairs. He was quick to follow, staying in the shadows as he had done so many times before, on so many of the same nights, following exactly this one person. He could do it in his sleep, he was quite sure, but stayed cautious from fear of becoming presumptuous. He did not yet wish to miscalculate, and reveal his presence.
Potter had chosen the stairs that led to the Astronomy tower, and He halted at the bottom, unsure. A few options lay before him. Considering that the tower was usually always used for the sexual release of teenagers, it was very probably that the boy was headed off to do just that.
On the other hand, there were no other towers that were not fully occupied by either teacher quarters, or student quarters, and the Astronomy Tower was the ideal place for anyone to go, whether they intended to pursue sex, stargazing, romance, suicide, or simply have alone time, free from the confines of the indoors-since students were no longer allowed on the outdoor grounds without strict supervision.
Deciding, he stepped up on to the bottom step, and climbed his way to the top, eager to catch Potter at something less trivial than wandering about after-hours (though, if nothing else, he would resign himself to taking points for that).

Harry sat with a large thump, leaning against the cold stone wall with a sigh. He had, luckily, chosen one of the colder nights, and the tower was not inhabited by the usual stray couple or lonesome student. There was no one to bother him in the tower, and he found this enjoyable, since all the others had done lately was bother him, criticise him, watch him, and whisper about him.

He withdrew the highly polished piece of metal from his pocket, eyes glinting with the reflected silver edge of the sharp razor. He considered it with a friendly gaze, eyeing every nick and ding with the detail of a lover who looked upon their beloved for the last time.
He had known, of course, that the homophobia ranged far and wide in the wizarding world, as it was in the muggle realm as well. Wizards, by the very magic in them, were more inclined to openness on the subject, but there were still the odd few (purebloods, mostly) who nursed a deep loathing. In the muggle world, it was a bit different; some hated, some liked, and others didn't care. There was more of a variety, sometimes, in some places, and in others, more hatred. All this he knew.
What he hadn't known was how violently his friends and mere acquaintances would react to his own confessions. They had been disappointed to hear he was gay (the girls disappointed, some of the boys hopeful) but to hear who he fancied was beyond their comprehension, and they tore him apart for it.
He brought the razor to his left wrist now, the shiny piece of metal reflecting the scars, new and old. He waited. 10 seconds, 15, 20, and then pressed in, slowly dragging it across his skin with the reverence of someone savoring the finest meal.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the stone wall, his mind calling forth unbidden memories of the countless dreams and fantasies he had detained of his Professor, finally able to relax under the cold stars.

He jerked when he heard the swish of a cloak and the tap of feet upon the stone floor. The razor left a jagged mark across his skin, a dripping red link from his wrist to one of the largest cuts on his arm. He shoved the metal in his cloak pocket, promising himself that he would take the careful time to clean it later, and looked around. When he saw who had entered and, most likely witnessed his bloodshed, he nearly threw himself over the side of the wall.

Severus Snape stood in the only entrance or exit to the Astronomy tower, looking at this with a raised eyebrow. His eyes followed the movement of his hand as he put the razor hastily away, and he moved swiftly towards Harry, looming over the boy until he got awkwardly to his feet.

"Sir," Harry said shakily, looking up at Snape as the man glared down at him.

"Potter, not only do I find you out of bed past curfew, but I also stumble upon you slicing open your skin with an almost masochistic reverence. If you would indulge, I will not allow you to leave until you have given reason for this inane act," The man said, tone aloof and cool, as always.

"I don't think you have the right to know that, Sir," Harry said, with as much malice as he could muster, his chin jutting out.
"Is that so? I think I have every right to know, as a teacher so concerned with your well being" He had made the word 'concerned' sound like a curse, and Harry winced at his tone.

"I've nothing to say," Harry replied, trying and failing to sound as if he were indifferent.

"You will have quite a lot to say, Mister Potter. If you do not comply, I will be forced to resort to Legilimency, and then your secrets will be spilled without preamble, or your consistent stuttering." Harry wanted to argue more, but Snape was already delving into his thoughts.

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