His gaze sharpened as he stared at the stone. Normally, it stood pretty much by itself on the shore with a couple of smaller boulders and small trees nearby. But, looking now, Harry could make out another slender, tall silhouette beside the menhir. What . . . ?
It took him a minute to determine that the other figure beside the standing stone was a person, a very tall, whip-thin person. His blood froze with recognition as he saw the man's robes flapping in the high winds like an agitated raven's wings. Severus.
The wind chill out there was brutal. There were warming and rain-deflection spells that would ward off the worst of the weather, but Harry knew that Severus was so out of it these days that he wouldn't have thought to employ them. Stars knew how long he'd been standing out there.
Thinking back, Harry thought that he remembered seeing Severus walking towards the main doors after dinner, which was over two hours ago. Surely, the man couldn't have been standing out there on the lake bank in that raging storm all this time?
"What is it?" Hermione asked, no doubt alarmed by whatever his face was revealing as he turned back into the room.
"Severus is out there," Harry said. "Standing on the lake bank."
"What?" She appeared as worried as he felt.
"I've got to -" he said, already heading for the door.
"Yes, of course. Go," Hermione urged.
Ron returned from the loo just as Harry reached the front door. His, "Hey, what's going on?" was ringing through the room as the door closed behind Harry.
Harry raced down the empty stairs, running as if a werewolf were on his trail. He opened the towering doors and shot out into the storm.
The freezing sleet pelted against his skin. Harry quickly raised a deflection charm and hurried towards the lake as fast as the slippery ground would allow. Everything was coated in a thin, deadly layer of ice. The trees shone like diamonds as he rushed past them.
Even at top speed, it took more than ten minutes to reach the lake bank. The trail was treacherous. What wasn't ice was slippery mud. It was all he could do to keep his footing as he made his way to the menhir. The winds were stronger here in the open over the water. They ripped at him like harpies, trying to topple him into the wildly churning water.
Finally, Harry reached the standing stone.
Severus was there between the menhir and the boulder Hedwig loved to sit on when they were out here. He was looking out over the lake and didn't even seem to notice his arrival. What with the way the winds were howling around them, that was hardly surprising. Even so, Harry had the feeling that Severus' reaction would have been the same if they'd been in the Great Hall.
Harry shivered as he took in Severus' state. His hair was a slick black mess against his head and cheeks. The ice that had cloaked the trees was glittering on Severus' hair and the shoulders of his cloak, he realized with horror. His friend's skin was bright red, his clothes soaked through and clinging to him.
Staring at the waterlogged robes, Harry couldn't help but notice how frightfully thin Severus had become. The man had barely eaten or slept in months. There wasn't much left of him. Taking in the drenched figure, he knew that if someone didn't intervene soon, Severus wouldn't be long for this world.
He wasn't sure how to proceed now that he was here. As much as he wanted to chastise Severus for doing something this reckless, instinct told him that wasn't the way to proceed. Severus had warned him last week that he had little control over his actions. This behaviour was hardly what anyone would call sane. Berating Severus wasn't going to do anything but alienate him at this point.
At a loss as to what to say, Harry stepped up to Severus and laid his hand on his arm. It was like touching one of those ice-lined trees.
Severus started as if he still hadn't seen him. The tormented eyes that turned his way were confused. Harry had the feeling that Severus mightn't have been aware of his physical state until the moment he touched him.
"It's time to go in now," Harry said, shouting to be heard over the winds.
Severus looked around, as if bewildered to find himself on the storm-battered shore. Then he gave a slow nod.
Not letting go of Severus' arm, Harry guided him back up the trail towards the castle. As soon as he was certain Severus wasn't going to bolt, he extended the deflection charm that was keeping the rain off him to cover Severus as well and performed a quick drying spell on his companion's hair and clothes.
Severus followed him almost docilely back to the school, slip-sliding along at his side without question or protest. It seemed to take forever to get back to Hogwarts, but they made it without any major spills.
Once inside the castle's huge doors, Harry debated on where to take Severus. He wanted to bring him up to the warmth and light of Gryffindor Tower, but he knew that Severus wasn't up to company at the present moment. Severus didn't like to be fussed over under the best of circumstances. Tonight, the inevitable reaction to his state might shatter him. He'd never seen Severus this . . . fragile. His ex-lover was clearly hanging on to sanity by a very thin thread.
If he hadn't lost his hold completely, Harry amended. Not even he was optimistic enough to argue that what Severus had been doing a few moments ago was sane.
Unwilling to inflict the inevitable scene upon Severus that bringing him to his rooms would entail, Harry headed them towards the dungeons. The fact that Severus didn't tell him to shove off was in no way reassuring. He knew if Severus were himself, he would have been insisting they part ways at the top of the stairs.
Harry paused outside Severus' quarters. It had been more than two months since he'd been sleeping down here. He knew that Severus would have changed the password to his wards long ago.
He looked expectantly up at Severus, waiting for him to supply the new password, but Severus was still staring off into space most alarmingly.
Taking a deep breath, Harry whispered January's password, certain that nothing would happen.
To his utter astonishment, the door swung obligingly open.
Severus hadn't changed the wards when they'd broken up?
Startled by that oversight, he hustled Severus into the room. He wasn't expecting the nostalgia that stabbed through him at the first sight of Severus quarters.
A thought lit the fire in the hearth and the wall sconces. Even with the addition of light and heat, the sitting room was still horribly damp and cold.
As soon as they were through the door, Harry removed Severus' winter cloak and hung both their outer garments on the pegs by the door.
Although he'd employed a drying charm on Severus' clothes down by the lake, Harry knew hypothermia was still a very real concern.
"I'm going to transfigure a cardy for you, so don't be startled," Harry warned. The black wool cardigan materialized between Severus' heavy brocade jacket and waistcoat. To play it safe, he also transfigured Severus' socks into fresh wool ones, although, since Severus was still wearing his boots, he couldn't see the results of his efforts.
Severus' complete lack of a reaction was alarming.
Harry levitated the familiar blue blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around Severus' shoulders before leading him to the couch. Sitting his unresponsive companion down at the end of the couch nearest the blazing hearth, he turned to summon tea. He prepared a mug to Severus' liking and then placed it between his companion's red-skinned, still-freezing hands.
"Drink it," Harry softly ordered.
Part of him was afraid that Severus was so out of it that he wouldn't respond. He knew everyone would be insisting on St. Mungo's were that to happen. There were already far too many comments that Severus wasn't fit to be teaching being dropped in the staffroom.
To his eternal relief, Severus did respond. He looked down at the cup, as if startled to find it in his hands, before taking a deep sip of it.
Harry used his magic to prepare himself a mug before taking a seat beside Severus. He had no idea what he should say. There wasn't anything that came to mind that wouldn't openly question Severus' sanity.
The uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Harry couldn't help but wonder if Severus were even aware of the tension or if he were off lost in his dark thoughts again.
He jumped when Severus' voice shattered the silence several minutes later.
"I suppose you want to know what I was doing out there," Severus said, his tone as brittle as his controls appeared to be.
Trying to keep things light, Harry replied as mildly as he could, "If you want to tell me."
"Sometimes, if I'm out in the cold long enough, I can sleep when I return to my quarters," Severus said. "I . . . didn't notice how bad the storm had become."
Harry refrained from questioning that last remark. He could tell how unnerved Severus was at having been that oblivious to his surroundings.
"Do you think I'm insane?" Severus asked into the quiet a few minutes later, his dark gaze fixed on the fire dancing in the hearth a few feet away.
Harry took a deep breath and answered, "I think you're exhausted. When's the last time you got any sleep?"
He could tell that he'd startled Severus, who was obviously braced for a condemnation of his shaky sanity.
After a moment, Severus answered, "Two days ago, I slept for three hours."
Harry hadn't gotten much more sleep himself, but he wasn't wrestling the kinds of monsters Severus was.
"You're not insane," Harry said, "but you will be if you don't get some rest."
"It isn't as if I haven't tried," Severus snapped, swinging around to face him. "The dreams come whenever I sleep. I can't take the Dreamless Sleep potion anymore. I can't . . . ."
Harry could hear the enormity of the problem in the way Severus' voice trailed off. He experienced a sympathetic burst of hopelessness in reaction to Severus' obvious despair. He knew what it was like when there was no rest to be had, no matter how long he walked or how hard he exerted himself. He'd lived in a similar state of desperation for years before Severus had cured his night terrors.
His tired mind stopped on that thought and stared at it. Severus had cured his nightmares.
Maybe he could help Severus the way Severus had helped him. He knew that Severus would balk at any mental contact, but there were other ways of controlling reactions besides telepathy.
"I know," Harry soothed. "You've done everything you can. Do you think you're ready to let someone help you?"
"You mean St. Mungo's." Severus said. Although he was obviously trying to hide it as best he could, Harry could hear the fear in his voice. "Minerva suggested that very option this afternoon. Apparently, I am unfit to be teaching at the present moment."
"She what?" Harry asked, protective anger blazing through him. Teaching was the only thing keeping Severus going. The last thing he needed right now was to be told he was unfit. With the prospect of losing his job and a stay for an undisclosed amount of time in St. Mungo's less than hospitable care, was it any surprise that Severus had been standing out there on the lakeshore? The only real miracle was that he hadn't jumped in.
"She . . . is concerned. I'm not improving and . . . . "
Recognizing that his anger wasn't going to help anything, Harry did his best to push it aside. "Ssssh. I wasn't suggesting St. Mungo's. No matter what happens, you're not going there. I promise. So stop worrying about that."
This was obviously the heart of Severus' current crisis, for he didn't seem to even hear his reassurances. Sounding completely desperate, Severus continued, "I have no home other than Hogwarts. If I am discharged and deemed incompetent -"
"No one's judging you incompetent," Harry insisted. "If worse comes to worst, and they want you to leave, we'll get a place together until you're well enough to teach again. St. Mungo's is not an option, so stop worrying about it. Please."
"Why should you concern yourself in any of this?" Severus asked, that frightened edge in his voice no longer underplayed. "After what I did to you, you should be rejoicing in my downfall."
"This isn't your downfall," Harry quickly countered. "You're just upset, with good reason."
"Why are you being so . . . kind to me? I don't understand this. Unless it's escaped your memory, I violated the integrity of your mind and erased your memories," Severus said. "I don't know what you're doing here. You should be cheering my mental collapse -"
"I could never be happy about anything bad happening to you," Harry insisted. "And you aren't going to collapse. You're going to rest and get better. I'm going to talk to Minerva in the morning and we're not going to worry about St. Mungo's, okay?"
"Why should you care? This isn't your problem anymore, Potter. After what I did to you . . . ." The words faded into a dispirited silence.
Seeing how utterly overwhelmed Severus was by the events that had separated them, Harry said, "You weren't yourself when you messed with my memories. I was pushing you too hard that night, and you defended yourself from the pressure the only way possible. I'm here because none of this is your fault. You didn't ask to be kidnapped and tortured. After what you went through, it's amazing that you're as functional as you are. Anyone else would have died in Burke's keep, but you were strong and you held on. Anyone else would have been insane after that kind of torture, but you managed to stay sane. Yes, you're having problems now, but who wouldn't after everything you went through? You got through the rest, you'll get through this."
"How?" Severus whispered, continuing in a shaky voice. "I can't sleep. I can't think straight. Minerva is right. I'm cracking up."
"No. You're just at the end of your limits. Who could go without sleep as long as you have? Of course, you can't think straight right now. You're overtired, depressed, and under too much pressure. Once you've had some rest and a few good meals, things won't look so bleak."
