"It is amazing how persuasive a patient with the ability to speak can be," Severus said. "I think she grew tired of my complaints."
"Complaints? You? Never," Harry tried to joke.
There was still something in Severus' eyes that made him nervous. It had been there for weeks now. If he had to define it, he'd probably call it caution.
After everything Severus had been through, Harry supposed it made sense that he'd be nervous around a lover, and, yet, Severus had seemed to find his touch reassuring when he was in infirmary. Whatever the cause, the emotion had appeared to grow stronger as Severus recovered. Now, it was like a wall between them.
Harry didn't know how to breach it or even if he should try. He was all too aware that Severus hadn't really dealt with what Burke had done to him. Like Harry himself, Severus seemed to be clinging to the illusion that everything was normal.
Only, it wasn't normal. When things were normal, he didn't find himself standing in the corridor with Severus' bag in his hand, unsure if he should accompany his lover down to the dungeons.
Thinking that they needed to get some things out in the open, Harry took a quick look around the corridor to ensure that they were alone. It was the middle of the morning. The students and other teachers were all in class. Where they were standing was well out of earshot of any of the portraits. They were about as private as they could get without being behind locked doors.
Taking a deep breath, Harry said, "The day you . . . were abducted, we talked about me moving my things down to the dungeons."
Harry held his breath, hoping that Severus would take up the conversational gauntlet, as it were.
But Severus simply stared at him from behind that wall of caution and responded with a flat sounding, "So we did."
Hardly encouraged, Harry tried again. "It didn't feel right taking my stuff down there when you were in hospital. I reckoned that I'd wait to see how you felt about it when you were up and around."
"That was . . . most thoughtful." Although the words were kind, there was no spark in Severus' eyes. He looked like a condemned prisoner before a firing squad waiting for the order to fire.
"So, er, how do you feel about it? Do you want me down there or do you need some time alone?" Harry asked.
If anything, Severus seemed to become even more walled in. Yet, there was an unbearable looking sorrow in those dark eyes as he softly answered, "It has been some time since I have had any . . . time to myself. Perhaps you are right. It wouldn't be appropriate for you to be down there with me now."
"I didn't say anything about it being inappropriate," Harry quickly said, not sure of the undercurrent to Severus' words.
"My mistake," Severus softly said, that watchfulness back in his gaze.
Harry didn't know how, but he had the definite feeling that he'd just messed up big time here. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Severus answered too quickly, adding a strangely soft, "I never knew comfort such as you gave me these last few weeks. Thank you for that . . . and for the healings."
Not liking the finality in Severus' attitude, Harry quickly corrected him, "You don't have to thank me for anything. I did it because I love you. I just want you to feel better so that we can be together again."
Severus had always had a flair for insinuating things with his tone of voice. The totally unconvinced "Of course," Severus gave set his teeth on edge.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, not wanting to push on Severus' first day out of hospital, but unwilling to let that kind of insinuation pass unchallenged.
Severus seemed to realize what he'd said, for his face filled with regret. "It means that I am obviously not myself yet. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," Harry quickly reassured him, reaching out to touch Severus' arm. Although Severus didn't flinch or move, he could almost feel him shrink away from him emotionally. Thinking that his touch was bothering Severus, he slowly removed his hand. He could feel those dark eyes following his hand as it withdrew. After an awkward silence, Harry haltingly admitted, "I don't know how to comfort you right now."
"I don't know that you can," Severus said at last. "What happened . . . it shattered the person you knew."
That was the first time Severus had openly admitted to the effect his abduction had had on him emotionally. Harry couldn't help but feel that it was some kind of breakthrough. Holding those uncertain black eyes, he softly assured, "Not beyond mending. You just need some time."
"Yes, time," Severus repeated in the most lost tone Harry had ever heard him use.
Needing to make some kind of connection, Harry asked, "Can I come down and just keep you company for a while?"
Severus wanted him there. He could see it in his eyes. But Severus gave a slow, negative shake of his head and softly denied, "I . . . think I need to be alone for a while."
Not wanting to push, for all that this felt wrong to him, Harry said, "Yes, of course. Let me just walk you down and get you settled in -"
"That won't be necessary," Severus refused. "I'll be fine."
"Severus . . . ."
"Yes?"
"I want to be there for you," Harry explained, the words sounding inadequate to his own ears.
"There are some things that one must do on one's own. Right now I need time to . . . determine what's been left of me. I can't do that with someone watching me every minute. As much as I truly . . . appreciate your concern, I need . . . space. Can you understand that?"
Need space. There was no way Severus could know how the Muggle cliché would affect someone raised in Muggle society. Harry felt like his whole world was crashing around him as he gave a numb nod of agreement. "Yes, of course I understand. I don't mean to . . . pressure you. I just want you to know that I'm here for you when you need me."
A flash of something Harry couldn't help but define as guilt crossed Severus' guarded features. The last thing he'd wanted was to make Severus feel any worse than he already did, but he had no clue how to reach him right now.
"Thank you," Severus said at last. "I wish . . . ."
"Yes?" Harry encouraged when Severus' words seemed to fail him.
"It's not relevant, not now. I . . . I should be going."
Harry stared down as Severus extended his right hand, immediately accepting the offered handshake, weird as it was. The expression in Severus' eyes told him that he'd once again misjudged everything.
"My bag?" Severus softly reminded, gesturing with his chin at the carryall Harry had slung over his shoulder.
Feeling an utter moron, Harry quickly handed over the bag. "I'll see you at dinner, then?"
"Yes, dinner," Severus agreed. Harry had the feeling he would have agreed to anything at that point to escape the horrible awkwardness that had suddenly grown between them.
The gaping hole that had once been his heart seemed to grow bigger with every step that tall, dark figure took away from him. Harry watched Severus' robes billow around him as he descended the stairs to the dungeons.
He was sure he was being foolish, that Severus simply needed time to heal, but there was a part of him that couldn't help but feel that they were over.
*~*~*
Three weeks later, Harry's fear was beginning to feel like truth.
Harry couldn't say that Severus was actively avoiding him. His perhaps-former lover showed up at all meals and even sat with the Weasleys and him; yet, there was absolutely no private interaction between them. Severus wouldn't so much as go for a walk on the grounds with him. Of course, the fact that it had been pouring down freezing rain and sleet the last three weeks might have had something to do with that, but he was fully convinced that Severus would have refused even if the weather had been clear and balmy outside.
Severus had all but begged him for time and space. Harry was doing his best to honour that request. Only, the distance was killing him by slow degrees. He'd been depressed when Severus had been trapped in his silence in the infirmary, but at least Severus had allowed him to touch and hold him then. He'd never thought that he'd look back on those dark days of pain and healing with nostalgia, but right now he'd trade almost anything to have the right to hold Severus, if only platonically.
"You're staring, Harry," Hermione whispered, her elbow prodding him back to the present.
Dinner. The Great Hall.
She was right. He'd been staring straight across her and Ron at Severus for God knew how long. Behind them, the rain was still sluicing down the bevelled windows as though someone were holding a hose against them. The ceiling above showed a clear midnight blue sky with a breathtaking hint of orange and magenta to the west where the sun had obviously recently set, but even Hogwarts' best efforts couldn't raise his spirits tonight.
Over. They were over, and he didn't even know why.
Severus still cared for him. Those weeks in the infirmary had shown him that, but for some reason, Severus was pushing him away without actually giving him the boot. Harry had never thought he'd long for an open rejection, but right now he just didn't know where he stood.
"Good night," Severus said, giving the three of them a nod as he wiped his mouth with a white linen napkin and rose from the table.
"Harry?" Hermione called as he did his best to hold it together as Severus left the table.
Tearing his eyes away from the now familiar sight of Severus' retreating back, Harry whispered, "I've lost him, Hermione."
He knew he shouldn't be talking about this, not here, but he felt moments away from some kind of breakdown.
Her hand gripped his elbow and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "Maybe he just needs some time."
Her voice was so low that he barely heard it.
Looking into her eyes, he could see nothing but compassion and understanding.
"That's what I thought at first," Harry answered in the same low tone. "Only, it's been almost a month and he's further away than ever."
"Maybe it's time you talked to him, then," Hermione suggested.
"Yes, perhaps you're right," Harry said, climbing to his feet.
"I didn't mean right this moment," she protested.
"There's no time like the present," Harry said and hurried away from the teachers' table to the doors through which Severus had just exited. He could see Severus' robes billowing at the top of the dungeon stairs as he began to descend.
"Severus!" Harry called out, rushing over.
For a moment, he feared Severus would ignore him, but Severus paused at the top of the stairs to wait for him. Harry was highly conscious of the stream of Slytherin students passing them on their way back down to their common room.
Severus waited until Harry was close enough that he didn't have to shout to be heard. "Yes?"
Taking in the crowded hall, Harry asked, "May I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course," Severus replied, as if it meant nothing at all to him.
His mouth running dry, Harry forced himself to suggest, "Privately? There's a bit of a crowd here."
Severus gave a slow nod. He did not invite him down to his rooms, Harry noticed. Instead, Severus' chin gestured to a nearby unused classroom. "Will this do?"
"Sure," Harry agreed, following him inside.
Ironically enough, Harry recognized it as the same classroom that he and Severus had had that chat in the morning he'd told Severus how much he meant to him.
The room was even dustier now than it had been then. Harry lit the wall torches with a thought, but they did little to dispel the damp darkness of the abandoned room. The rain was still gushing down outside the windows like the special effect in a movie. He couldn't have imagined a more depressing setting to argue his case, but, somehow, the deserted classroom seemed to perfectly mirror his present emotions.
When Severus simply stood there waiting for him to speak, Harry nervously cleared his throat and began, "I can't have helped but notice that you haven't wanted to be alone with me lately."
"We are alone now," Severus pointed out, but his eyes and attitude were so guarded that they might as well have been back in that crowded corridor.
Trying to take heart from Severus' non-contentious words, Harry took a deep breath. He knew how vicious Severus could be were he so inclined. The lack of aggression meant something; he simply couldn't figure out what. Severus felt a million miles away from him emotionally at the moment.
Deciding to start on a new foot, Harry said, "I, um, was wondering if you'd like to go out for drinks at Rosmerta's tonight?"
That seemed an unthreatening suggestion. They'd be in public, but still able to talk. Harry didn't even care what they talked about at this point, so long as there was some kind of communication between them.
True regret seemed to touch Severus' features as he replied, "I don't think that would be wise at this point."
"Please . . . just drinks? I won't . . . I just want to spend some time with you. I miss you." Harry felt his cheeks warm. He'd never begged anyone for anything like this in his life, but Severus was too important to lose over his pride.
"I'm sorry. Truly, I am. I'm . . . just not ready yet," Severus gave the same kind of refusal he'd been offering for the last three weeks.
Taking a deep breath, Harry persevered with, "What about Friday, then? Hermione and Ron are going to the Three Broomsticks for an evening out. We could join them. We wouldn't be alone. It would be just like it is at dinner."
Severus also seemed to need a deep breath. "I'm not up to socializing to any degree right now."
Harry knew that was malarkey. He knew for a fact that Hermione stopped in to see Severus on the days they had a shared free period.
"I suppose next month would be out of the question as well?" Harry decided to force Severus to voice the truth that was right there in his eyes.
