Title: Broad Shoulders.

Author: Skye

Pairing: R Hagrid/Severus Snape

Rating: PG=13

Category: Angst. Fluff. Sap.

Summary: Snape's got problems, Hagrid's got shoulders enough.

Note: NOTHING explicit here folks, rating is for language ONLY. Short, sweet, H/c, no squick factor

Ok, giving serious Snagrid a go. Lord have mercy on my soul. Feedback would be *Greatly* appreciated.

Broad Shoulders.
by Skye

There was only one place Severus Snape could go, when it was this bad. Only one place that he felt safe, and it wasn't Dumbledore's office.

After these... meetings, first with Voldemort and then with his jovial counterpart, Snape was always edgy, tense, nervous. Tonight was worse. Tonight he felt as though he was falling apart at the seams and he wanted, no needed, to get away from that blast castle.

So he went to Hagrid. Who else could look at something ugly that spit venom and love it, take care of it, treat it gently and with kindness? Who else could to handle the unmitigated horror of his life? Snape certainty would have been insane long ago had it not been for the half-giants calm presence and soothing influence. Tonight he wasn't sure he wasn't insane already.

His hands were shaking when he raised them to rap on the door of the small hut, and the intended rap sounded desperate rather than forceful even to his own ears. Dammit, he couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't continue to play the good little spy, the killing the torture, the darkness that surrounded him was going to suck him under, and he was going to go truly and irrevocably mad.

The door swung open and Hagrid gestured him inside. The hut was cluttered, messy, and altogether different from where Severus spent his days and far too many of his nights. It was warm where the dungeons were cold, it was light where they were dark, it was peaceful and home where the quarters assigned to him were haunted and sterile.

Hagrid stopped him just inside the door, forehead crinkled and mouth down turned. Snape started to make a typical sarcastic remark but was cut short when huge hands enveloped his.

"Great Merlin, Professor, yer freezin. Get over by the fire and I'll get ye something warm ter drink."

Yes. There was that. Snape watched Hagrid wearily from behind his hair. God he was so fucking TIRED. He never slept anymore, it seemed. Even when he had a few hours without having to mark or tutor or mentor or attend meetings where children were raped and tortured--- No. he was not going down that path. Not tonight. It was--too fresh, far too new to examine closely. Best leave it locked where it belonged. In the dark with his other nightmares.

Hagrid had finished the tea, and Snape took the cup, wrapped both hands around the mug and tried to warm his icy hands. When he shivered rather convulsively at returning warmth, he was saved dropping the cup only by hands covering his own and steadying them. Somehow the heat of those calloused palms penetrated more deeply than the scaling ceramic. They warmed something frozen inside him, that had nothing to do with the weather.

"Bad night?" Hagrid asked quietly, his normal jovial boomed toned down to something hushed and serious. Compassionate.

Snape closed his eyes and nodded, letting his head rest against the back of his chair. Hagrid, thankfully, did not release his hands.

"Do ye wanna talk bout it?"

Snape shook his head slightly, hair falling over his face, and swallowed past the embarrassing constriction in his throat. Damn... he should be used to this by now, shouldn't need to depend on anyone. It was a bad idea, to say the least. What would happen to him if Hagrid were killed, or simply left? When he'd had enough of baby-sitting a grown man who was, in all honestly, afraid of the dark? He couldn't afford to be dependent on anyone for anything, he knew that. He also knew that he was.

Finally he freed one of his hands and pushed the hair out of his face with his thumb and forefinger. Opened his eyes to find Hagrid's and met his eyes, "I'm perfectly all right."

"Yer still shakin'" The half-giant pointed out calmly, "Don't seem t'be all right from where I'm sittin'"

Snape curled his hands into fists when Hagrid took the cup and set it near him. "I'm cold."

"Baloney. Yer upset, and it's all right, ye know. I got broad shoulders Sev'rus, and it's a helluva load Dumbledore's given ya to carry. Too much for any man ta bear alone."

Snape huffed air out out his nose, trying to rid himself of the congestion and stinging that meant he was about ot make a complete and utter fool of himself.

"Thank you Rubeus, but you know as well as I do that 'unburdening' myself is not only unnecessary but dangerous," To his chagrin his voice cracked very slightly.

"Didn't say you had to tell me nothin', jest said that wasn't no need fer ya to keep all this bottled up inside. Not with me, Sev. I 'member ye when ye was just a skinny lil thing full o' piss `n vinegar and lashin' out at everyone"

Snape smiled weakly, "Yes well, some things never change."

Hagrid snorted and smiled, "Yeah, but some things do, lad, some things do. Ain't nothing different than a dog's been kicked too many times lashing out in hurt 'n' cause it's afraid."

Snape sighed huffily, "You realize that no one else would dare imply that I'm either afraid, or in pain?"

"Aye. Mebbe they should..."

"I would hex them into next week, Hagrid." Snape's eyes closed again, and behind them children danced, blood pulsed from slit throats and screams rent the air. His eyes snapped open again.

Hagrid settled himself on the floor beside him, and with a strong hand urged him to join him on the floor. Feeling all too ridiculous and terribly undignified Snape allowed it. Knowing eyes met his, and he was manhandled into very large, very strong, and very capable arms.

"You do know what the reactions of the students and staff would be, if they were to witness me... cuddling?"

"I reckon yer other Lord'd be more surprised." Hagrid said quietly.

"Hm. Perhaps, but he is not now and never has been 'my lord'."

"Hush, Sev."

He was crying, Snape realized with bemusement. Tears falling silent and fast, soaking into heavy woolen clothes that smelled of dirt and the forest... wild things. It was reassuring and familiar and ... very much needed tonight.

When the tears finally eased he said, almost inaudibly, "She was seven."

The arms tightened carefully about him. For long moments the only sound was the beating of a massive heart and the quiet rasp of breathing. Finally, "Get some sleep, Sev. Yer safe enough here, fer tonight."

It wasn't the first time he fell asleep, hands unconsciously tangling in Hagrid's beard, and it wasn't the first time the giant easily lifted him, settling him into a simple bed beneath a patchwork quilt. It wasn't even the first time warm lips brushed his forehead, or the first time the half-giant spent his night soothing him through his nightmares. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the
last, that Snape's last conscious thought was to thank whatever Gods there were, that Hagrid was-- Hagrid.

END