Harry started like a thief at the soft sound of his name, so startled that the brush he'd forgotten he was holding fell out of his hand to bang onto his dresser. He'd spent so much time hiding in his quarters earlier in the week that he'd forgotten that he had a legitimate right to be seen in them now.
"Hi," he said to Hermione as she entered his bedroom. He had no idea how long he'd been staring off into space. He'd come up here to change and shower some time ago. Since he'd ditched his time experimentation efforts, he felt oddly helpless again.
"I just left Severus. I marked where I left off in the book," Hermione said, her brown eyes studying him.
"Thanks . . . for everything," Harry said. She and Ron had been down to see Severus every day at lunch and then again after dinner since they'd recovered him from Burke.
"There's nothing to thank me for," Hermione denied and then softly asked, "What's wrong?"
"He's just so . . . depressed," Harry said at last, not knowing how to describe Severus' condition. Depression seemed inadequate, somehow. "I mean, I know it's understandable with everything he's been through. It's just . . . ."
"It hurts. I know," Hermione said. "Ron's still not himself. I guess none of us are." After a moment of glum silence, she perked up and offered, "We just have to keep trying. It won't be much longer. Severus' hand is back."
"I wouldn't call that pathetic thing a hand, Hermione," Harry argued, shuddering at the thought of the strange looking appendage that was now at the end of Severus' right arm. It looked like a foetal hand had somehow been grafted onto Severus' arm. The same was true of his developing tongue. The tissue was shaped right. It just wasn't of proper size yet.
"It will be in a few more days," Hermione insisted. "I still can't believe you did it."
"It's taken forever," Harry couldn't help but complain. He hoped it didn't sound as much of a whine to Hermione as it did to him.
"It's only been three weeks," Hermione corrected. "Hardly forever. And it shouldn't have healed at all. You know how amazing what you've done is."
"It doesn't feel very amazing," Harry admitted, unable to hold back his frustration with how slow the healing was progressing.
"That's because you're overtired and depressed yourself," she said.
His chin snapped up. "What do you mean 'depressed'?"
"For God's sake, Harry, you love the man. What was done to Severus hurt you as much as it hurt him. You need to be more patient with yourself."
He thought she might be right. He'd felt like hell since Severus was abducted. He had only to think of the crazy scheme he'd tried earlier in the week to know how desperate he was. Desperate and depressed pretty much summed him up these days, he realized.
"You should have been a Muggle shrink. You know that, don't you? You're wasted in this school," Harry complimented her.
Hermione giggled. "Was there ever any place that needed a psychiatrist on staff more than Hogwarts? I mean, Filch alone is enough to keep an analyst busy full time 24/7."
Harry felt a grin spread across his face. "You've got me there. Did you know he railed off the main hall Tuesday after mopping it so no one would track dirt across his clean floor? Minerva was not amused."
Harry didn't expound upon the particulars, that it had been the footprints his invisible self had left on his way back from raiding the dinner table in the Great Hall that had driven poor Filch over the edge.
Even without his explanation, they broke into much needed laughter. He didn't know what he'd do without Hermione and Ron. Whenever things got really bad, they always kept him sane.
"Severus will be all right," Hermione said once their laughter calmed.
"I know you're right. It's just . . . ."
"You're worried," Hermione said, stepping forward to hug him. "How could you not be? We're all worried about him."
"It's more than just worry. I think I might be going a little mad myself," Harry found himself confessing.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
Knowing that he should tell someone the insane things he'd been doing, he softly said, "I've been considering ways to make this better. I think I figured out how to do it."
"You know you've figured out how to do it. Severus' hand and tongue will be healed any day now," Hermione said.
"No, that's not what I'm talking about," Harry said. "I want to make it so this never happens to him."
"What?" she asked.
"I, er, I'm going to go back and kill the bastard in Diagon Alley before he gets to Severus," Harry said, adding a reluctant. "As soon as I can figure out how to control when I show up."
"You mean go back in time?" Hermione questioned. The fact that she didn't immediately scorn his ability to do so told him that, unlike Ron, she had a clear scope of his abilities.
"Yeah. If I can take out Burke before he gets to Severus -"
"Harry, stop, please. You know how dangerous time travel is, let alone changing events," Hermione said.
"We've done it before," Harry reminded her, not mentioning his own misadventure earlier in the week.
"Yes, we did. But we were children then and didn't really understand the dangers of what we were doing."
"But it worked," Harry said.
"Yes, it did."
"So why do you think it won't work now. I know we don't have a time turner anymore, but . . . I don't need one. I've been pushing at . . . well, I don't know what to call it. I guess the fabric of time, and . . . I can get through."
"You've been trying this?" Hermione voice held a rising note of horror.
Harry gave a reluctant nod. "I went back two days in time earlier in the week. I couldn't figure out how to get back to exactly when I started, so . . . I waited it out. I was hoping you might have some ideas on how to control when I appear. If I can just figure out how to control when I arrive . . . I think I can go back to the exact moment I need to and . . . ."
"And kill Burke on the street?" Hermione questioned.
Harry gave a grim nod. "I don't like the idea of striking first, but I know what he'll do to Severus if I don't fix it -"
"Harry, it's already happened. You can't fix it, not without changing everything," Hermione insisted in a warning tone.
"And what would be so wrong about that? What would it hurt if Severus just came home from the store with my ice cream that day and I moved down into the dungeon and our lives went on the way they were supposed to?" Harry challenged.
"Nearly three weeks of events have gone by since Severus was abducted. If you change what happened to Severus, you'll be changing all of that as well."
"Once again, what would be so bad about that?" he knew he sounded like a truculent child, but he couldn't help it. What had happened to Severus was wrong, and he had the ability to fix it. All he needed was better control. He knew he wasn't smart enough to figure this out on his own, but Hermione could do it. Her intelligence was equally as frightening as his freaky powers.
"Maybe nothing, but we don't know that. Once you change what happened, we can't be sure of anything anymore. We know you were able to best Burke after seeing what he'd done to Severus, but we don't know how you'll fare if you attack him cold, as it were," Hermione said.
"What do you mean?" he asked, surprised that she seemed to actually be considering the idea. He'd been certain he'd have to argue her into the ground to get her help.
"I know you, Harry. You couldn't just kill someone, not without a hell of a motivation. What if you needed the horror of seeing what was done to Severus in order to kill Burke? Without that anger, you mightn't be able to take him down so easily."
Harry remembered how he'd had to foster his hate to reach the stage where he could use his mage fire to destroy Burke, but . . . even now, he had that level of hate broiling in him. "I'm angry enough. Take my word for it."
She studied him for a long moment before giving a soft, "Okay. You're angry enough, and maybe you're determined and strong enough to do it, but . . . ."
"But what?" Harry demanded, at his wits' end. If she believed he was powerful enough to do it, then what was the problem?
"You're not going to be isolated in some distant keep. If you attack Burke before he gets to Severus, you're going to be duelling with a wizard of Voldemort's power on the most populated street in the Wizarding World. What if you don't take him by surprise? What if he's ready for you? Severus was abducted in front of an ice cream parlour. There could be children there."
"Mr. Fortescue said it was a very slow morning. That was why he saw what happened to Severus; he wasn't busy," Harry said.
"It wasn't busy on the day Severus was abducted. The minute you step back into time, you alter it. You can't say that events will happen exactly the same way, because your presence has already changed those events. If you attack Burke on the street, you might take him out as easily as you did in his keep, or it might get messy. You might have to duel with him. You know he wouldn't be above throwing an Unforgivable at a passer-by to distract you. Innocent strangers could be hurt or killed. Are you willing to risk that?"
He felt his last real hope of truly fixing things shatter. He knew time travel was crazy; after spending two days hiding in his own armoire, he knew it. But even knowing it was insane, he was willing to give it a try. He was willing to risk his own life to spare Severus the torture that he'd endured, but he wasn't quite insane enough to risk hurting innocent bystanders.
Apparently, his despair must have shown in his face, for Hermione reached out to squeeze his arm. "Harry, I understand how desperately you want to spare Severus what happened to him. We all would, if we could, but . . . changing time isn't the way."
"I . . . I just want him back," he mumbled. "I know you're right, it's just . . . this is so damn wrong, so wrong." His eyes started to sting. He'd known it was a crazy plan, but it was the only one he'd been able to come up with to save Severus.
Her arms came around him as his voice broke. He buried his face in her shoulder and held onto her for all he was worth.
"Sssh," Hermione murmured, holding on to him.
Overwhelmed, he muttered into her shoulder, "He's had such a hard life. People have . . . mistreated Severus since he was a baby. On Christmas day, I promised him that I'd never let anyone hurt him again. I've done a piss poor job of protecting him."
"If it weren't for you, he'd be dead. No one else could have saved him from Burke, and no one else could have healed him." She rubbed his back for a long time. Much later, when he felt ready to pull back, she added, "Severus is going to be fine. We'll get him through this, Harry, no matter what it takes."
"But no time travel, right?" he checked, in case she'd changed her mind.
"No," she said with a sad smile, "no more time travel. It's just going to take longer this way."
"Yeah. I know you're right. I just want to see him happy again," Harry said.
"You will," Hermione assured in the tone of a promise.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," Harry admitted. "I know you don't want to hear it, but thank you. You keep me from going crazy; you know that, don't you?"
Hermione gave him another quick hug and stepped back to look into his eyes.
"There isn't anyone in this castle who hasn't been crazy for years. Come on. It's almost time for you to do the impossible again," Hermione said with a mischievous grin.
Nothing had really changed, but somehow, he felt better for having talked to her. Finding a smile for her from somewhere, he fell in step beside her as they left his quarters.
*~*~*
It was difficult to define what it felt like to be the organic conduit through which Harry Potter's concentrated power flowed. Severus was accustomed to feeling Harry's power move through him in bed, but that was nothing like these daily healings. Every day, Harry loosed upon him an energy potent enough to blast Hogwarts and possibly Hogsmeade as well to smithereens. Severus had never felt anything like this raw power. The scope was staggering.
He knew the healings should be agonizing. He'd had enough bones regrown over the years to know how excruciating regrowth was. Only, Harry was somehow controlling the pain.
Severus couldn't say that the experience was comfortable or pleasant, but it wasn't the torturous ordeal it should have been.
While Harry's power surged through him, gradually building in potency, Severus lay flat on his back and stared up at the man sitting beside him. With his eyes closed in concentration, Harry looked absurdly young and innocent. There was nothing in that comely visage to suggest that the young wizard was violating every law of nature and forcing reality to conform to his will through unprecedented expenditures of power. Every day when Harry did this, Severus was intensely conscious of the fact that he was witnessing an event never experienced before in the five thousand years of recorded Wizardry.
That it was being done solely for his sake was humbling.
He was awed by Harry's mastery of his power and his own body systems. On a mental plane, he knew that this level of energy should be frying every neuron he had. Yet, Harry was somehow monitoring the flow, controlling either it or Severus' system so that it did no harm to him. Their sex play had demonstrated how talented Harry was at controlling his power, but this type of manipulation was awe inspiring.
It was the same process every day. Harry would start out transferring a small amount of his power to him. The level of energy would gradually increase until an immeasurable amount of energy was flowing into him, building towards a blinding climax. The intense level of transfer would keep up for some time, gradually forcing Severus' flesh to regrow, and, then, in the end, Harry would seem to access hidden reservoirs of power and blast the new growth with a lightning strike of healing energy that made the flesh expand exponentially.
