Now, Severus was crumbling before his eyes, and nobody cared enough to intervene.
Well, he could do something about that. He mightn't be able to turn back time or take this terrible burden off Severus, but he could at least make sure the man had some human kindness in his life.
Taking a deep breath, he went to find Hermione.
*~*~*
"You want us to what?" Ron nearly bellowed after Harry made his suggestion that evening when he caught both his friends in their quarters before dinner. Ron was removing his red Auror's robes, about to don the brown ones he usually wore around the castle, while Hermione sat in a chair by the hearth, her lap full of test papers.
"Harry," Hermione said in a less contentious tone, "he attacked your mind."
Harry hadn't been able to get her alone all day. He'd been hoping to have her firmly in his corner before he approached Ron with the subject. Taking a deep breath, he continued with his argument, "I know what he did, and it was terribly wrong. But -"
"There's no 'buts' about this," Ron said. "If you hadn't made me promise to leave this to you, he'd be up on charges."
"He's not himself, Ron," Harry argued. "He's not responsible for -"
"All the more reason why you should steer clear of him. He's a menace right now," Ron's face was lost in the folds of the brown robe he was pulling over his head, but his anger emerged loud and clear.
"Only to himself," Harry protested.
"Excuse me, but weren't you the one who was running around here with missing memories last month?" Ron demanded. "Don't even try to tell me he's harmless."
"I need you to back me on this," Harry played his last card. He didn't know what he'd do if they wouldn't help him. He was going to need someone to run interference for his own anger.
"Give me one good reason why," Ron demanded.
"He's falling apart before my eyes, Ron," Harry said. "I can't just pretend it isn't happening, no matter how angry I am. We told him we were his family. Families don't let their members self-destruct."
"Families don't erase each other's memories," Ron countered. "Harry, he fucked with your mind. He could have made you do anything. Who would have been able to stop you if he'd really gone mental and programmed you to do something dangerous?"
Harry sighed. Ron wasn't saying anything he hadn't considered himself in the last month. He knew how utterly dangerous and immoral what Severus had done to him was. It was unforgivable, fully as much as the curses with the same name. Only, for Severus' sake, he was going to have to find a way to work around it, to get beyond his own anger and forgive. "All he wanted was some peace. Yes, he could have done anything, but all he did was remove the source of the pressure I was putting on him. I told him to remove anything that disturbed him. He took my offer literally. I'm not excusing what he did, but I understand it. I was pushing him really hard that night, and he snapped."
"What's to say he won't snap again?" Ron asked. "He looks like a walking corpse. He should be in hospital, not teaching school."
"And what good would St. Mungo's do him?" Harry argued. "If they can't cure it with a spell or a potion, they just lock the poor buggers away. Look at Neville's parents. They've been there for decades, and literally nothing's been done to help them."
"What is it you think we can do?" Ron questioned. "He's totally mental right now."
"I think we can offer the man some human kindness. Severus didn't ask for any of this to happen. You know what was done to him. Yes, he's a bit mental right now, but he's holding it together – just. I want to help him hang on to what little sanity he's got left."
"And you think our sitting next to him at the teachers' table is going to cure what ails him?" Ron asked.
"I think if we were speaking to him again, it would remove a lot of the pressure he's under. Meals have been unbearable this last month," Harry said. "Can I count on your help in this?"
Ron looked like he was asking him to eat manure.
Harry turned his gaze to Hermione, who'd been unusually silent throughout their discussion. "Hermione?"
Both he and Ron were looking at her, as if she should decide the issue. And, perhaps she should, Harry realized. She was the most practical and mature of them all.
After a long moment of holding his gaze, she turned to Ron. "Harry is the offended party here. I think we should do what he asks."
"All right, then," Ron grudgingly agreed. Turning to Harry, he said. "It's on your head, then."
"Thanks, both of you," Harry said, wilting with relief. Both Hermione and Ron's misgivings were written clearly on their faces. But they were backing him, and that was all that mattered.
"Yeah, yeah," Ron dismissed his show of gratitude with his usual embarrassment. "Let's go beard the lion. It's roast pork night and I'm starved."
On that note of normality, they headed for the door.
As they walked into the Great Hall five minutes later and Harry took in Severus' dark figure sitting at the far, empty end of the teachers' table, he realized that the harder task might still be ahead of him. Approaching the table, he gave Neville and Hagrid a wave where they were sitting at the end of the table where Severus used to isolate himself and continued down the seemingly endless table towards where Severus was currently sitting.
It was his imagination, of course, but Harry felt as if every eye in the room were on him as he made that journey. All but one, that was. Severus' gaze was fixed on his meal. As usual, Severus seemed to be pushing his food around the plate more than eating it. The Potions master was trying so hard to tune out the rest of the school that he didn't even seem aware of their approach.
That wasn't good. Severus didn't deal well with surprises at the best of times. When this went bad, as Harry knew it would, the scene was going to be spectacular.
Harry stopped beside Severus. Severus didn't even look up. Hermione and Ron were hanging several feet back, well out of cursing range.
When Severus failed to react to his presence, Harry nervously cleared his throat and asked, "Is this seat taken?"
Severus' chin snapped up as he turned to meet his gaze. Those red-rimmed, exhausted eyes moved past Harry to where Hermione and Ron were standing behind him.
Harry held his breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion. He knew this man so well; he could almost hear the suspicious thought processes taking place.
It was no longer his imagination. Everyone at the teachers' table was watching. Before Severus could ignite, Harry dropped his voice and pleaded, "Please, let's give it a try, all right?"
Harry still expected Armageddon. He knew Severus and fully anticipated having to argue his way past his considerable guards. Severus' controls were clearly stretched too thin to hide anything he was feeling. Harry could see the tumultuous emotions raging behind those sore-looking eyes.
To his complete astonishment, Severus gave a slow nod and then returned his attention to his plate.
Harry exchanged a confused look with Hermione and Ron before slipping into the empty seat beside Severus. Hermione took the seat next to his, Ron on her other side.
When no scene ensued, most of the other teachers returned their attention to their own business.
As Harry and his friends settled into the chairs they'd abandoned last month, an almost anti-climatic silence fell over them. Then Ron began filling his plate with food and the awkwardness passed.
Harry and Hermione followed Ron's example and in a few moments everyone other than Severus was busy enjoying their meal.
Harry did his best to ignore the fact that Severus wasn't eating. He wasn't about to push his luck and comment on that fact. He knew they were fortunate to have managed this much contact without an altercation.
After several minutes of concentrated eating appeased their immediate hunger, that awkward silence settled over them again. Normally, this was when everyone would update each other about the events of their day, but no one seemed inclined to talk now that they'd moved seats.
Recognizing that as it was his idea to recommence interaction with Severus, that it was also his responsibility to initiate conversation, Harry broke the tense quiet with, "Ron, how was your day?" Turning to include Severus, he softly explained, "Ron returned to work on Monday."
Severus' eyes clearly showed his surprise at the effort he made. Harry wasn't sure what type of reaction to expect. A 'Don't trouble yourself, Potter,' or a 'What has this to do with me anymore?' seemed the most likely responses, but after a pause, Severus gave an acknowledging nod and turned his gaze towards Ron.
"It was okay," Ron answered. "I've been putting the new team through training manoeuvres. It's going to be a while before they're in decent shape. Most of them are fresh out of school."
Whether she really needed to know or was simply asking to bring Severus up to date, Hermione questioned, "What are their names again?"
As Ron launched into a description of his new team members, Harry relaxed in his chair and finally started to breathe normally.
The remainder of the meal continued along that line. Severus didn't utter a single word the entire time, but he stayed at the table and seemed to be listening. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was a damn sight better than Harry had expected it to be.
Hermione shocked him when they were finishing up their pudding by turning to Severus to say, "Severus, Harry and I are going to grade papers in our place after dinner. You're more than welcome to join us."
She'd obviously shocked Severus, too. It seemed to take him a moment to find his voice to answer.
"Thank you," Severus seemed to take great care choosing his words. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not fit company tonight."
"Well, if you change your mind, you know where we are. Harry, we'll see you upstairs," Hermione said as she and Ron rose from the table.
Ron gave a general, "See you," that seemed to encompass Severus as well before following Hermione out.
Left alone with Severus, Harry picked at the remains of his chocolate cake, not sure what to do now. Most of the other teachers were leaving and the dirty plates were popping out of view one by one.
Severus' plate was still full of food. By Harry's count, he'd taken three bites all night.
The silence stretched uncomfortably between them, the tension seeming to accentuate all that they'd lost in the last three months.
Finally, Severus looked up from his study of his plate and said, "You can't fix what's broken this time, Potter."
Strangely enough, Severus' tone wasn't sarcastic or contentious. If anything, he sounded lost.
"Let's just give it a chance, all right?" Harry pleaded.
"Give what a chance?" Severus demanded.
"Healing," Harry answered, his voice soft and low. "Nothing's going to change if we don't try."
The emotions that flashed through Severus' exhausted eyes were explosive.
Harry held his breath, waiting for Severus to erupt.
After a long moment, Severus said, "If you believe this can be fixed, you're crazier than I am."
Harry watched as Severus pushed back his chair and left the table.
The exchange hadn't been exactly encouraging, but it was a damn sight less hostile than last night's encounter. He figured that had to count for something.
*~*~*
The next week or so was filled with similar, tense meals at which Hermione and he exhausted themselves attempting to draw Severus out of his shell. Harry tried to take comfort from the fact that Severus showed up in the Great Hall and didn't move his seat, but for all the response he gave to them, they might as well have been invisible. If pressed, Severus would give a monosyllabic answer, but mostly, he just sat there behind his wall of misery. Watching him disintegrate was killing Harry by slow degrees.
Even when he was trying to relax with Hermione and Ron, Severus was never far from his thoughts. For the last month, it had been anger keeping Severus there. Now it was a worry so sharp it had more the feel of fear to it.
Tonight they'd skipped their usual Friday night trip to Hogsmeade. The sky was still pissing down sleet, even though it was well into March, and Hermione had a headache. So, they were camped out in the Weasleys' sitting room.
Ron and he had a chessboard between them, but they were talking quidditch more than playing, while Hermione lay on an easy chair near the fire with her feet up on an ottoman.
"Krum's lost it," Ron lamented, his disappointment palpable as he took a sip of the beer sitting beside the chess pieces he'd won.
"Oh, I don't know," Harry countered. "I think he's still got a few good years in him."
"You always say that when they're over the hill," Ron said.
"He's not even thirty. He's just having a bad year. Everyone does now and then," Harry said.
"You never did," Ron protested.
"I only played for four years, Ron. Viktor's been playing since we were thirteen. Think about how long a time that is," Harry said. "That's half our lives. Anyone playing that long is bound to have a bad season every now and then."
"I guess. It's just -" Ron's words stopped abruptly. "Excuse me a minute."
Harry grinned as Ron hurried to the loo. Rising to his feet, he stretched and said to Hermione, "He never changes. Always waits till the last minute to do everything."
"Not everything, Harry," Hermione said in a silky tone.
Chuckling, Harry crossed to the window, staring out at the sleety night. The winds were high and gusting. As he stood looking out the bevelled casement, a shower of sleet bounced off the glass as if aimed at him.
His gaze was drawn to the lake. It looked like a pool of churning ink under the winds. Everything out there was shades of black. The Forbidden Forest was a line of thick shadows around the lake. The tiny islands dotting the lake's surface were barely visible in this light. The nearest shore was a lighter band of black. Harry could just make out the standing stone at his favourite spot.
