The sour expression Severus turned on him sneered louder than any words. After a minute, Severus said, "If I were in my right mind, I'd curse you for that idiotic statement."
Harry found a smile for that show of spirit. "Good thing for me that neither of us is in his right mind at the moment. I'm not just talking through my hat here. I have an idea that might help."
Severus' expression made it clear how hopeless he thought the situation. Still, he asked, "What idea?"
"We've . . . been through some rough times these last few months," Harry said. "Do you still trust me?"
Harry braced himself for a negative answer. He knew how suspicious Severus was at the best of times. Under this kind of strain, there was no telling what level his paranoia would take.
The silence that followed seemed to take centuries to creep by. Finally, Severus broke it with a soft, "Yes. I don't understand it, but . . . you had every right to kill me for what I did to you and you haven't taken your revenge."
"Can we just forget about what you did that night for the time being?" Harry pleaded.
"How can I forget? I -"
"You were at your wit's end, and I pushed you. We'll talk about that when you're feeling better. Right now, let's concentrate on getting you some rest."
Severus was obviously too tired to argue. After a long pause, he said, "You said you had an idea."
"Yes. That's where the trust comes in. You helped me through my nightmares. I thought I might help you through yours."
Harry didn't have to be holding Severus to feel how his entire body tensed at the suggestion.
"You want to go into my mind and -"
"No," Harry interrupted before the panic in Severus' eyes could take hold. "I know that after what you went through with Burke, that any mental contact would be detrimental. That's not what I'm suggesting."
Severus made a visible effort to calm himself. After a couple of shaky-sounding breaths, he asked, "What are you suggesting then?"
"I think I can . . . use my magic to keep you in a state of sleep where the nightmares don't occur," Harry said.
"Use your magic?" Severus repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.
Harry nodded. "After all those healings and the, um, what we used to do together, I, er, I'm pretty familiar with your system. I think I can keep your brain at a level of peaceful sleep. If nothing else, I can wake you up when you start to get agitated before the nightmare takes complete hold. What do you think?"
Harry knew how much he was asking here, the amount of faith involved. What he was proposing had never been done before. He mightn't be manipulating Severus' thoughts, but he was asking to be allowed to manipulate the energy which powered those thoughts. If he made a mistake in energy calculations, Severus would never know about it, because his brain would be fried. He could see every one of those thoughts passing through Severus' eyes.
Severus stared at him for a long time before softly answering, "I think that it will be an incredible imposition upon you."
"Let me worry about that, okay?" Harry pleaded. "Will you let me try?"
To his complete mystification, Severus gave a quick nod. Upon reflection, Harry realized that his speedy acceptance of the suggestion was probably an indication of how utterly desperate he was.
"How do you want to do this?" Severus questioned, visibly ill at ease.
He knew that Severus really had to be at the end of his rope to be so open to someone helping him. Thinking that Severus probably couldn't deal with much more stress, he met those purple-bagged, red-rimmed eyes. Reaching out his power, he embraced Severus with his magic.
If asked, he could never explain the process. In his mind, he always pictured it as the magical equivalent of hooking a Muggle video device to a telly. His magic plugged into Severus' system the way it had every night when they made love. He started feeding Severus his power and softly said, "Sleep, Severus."
He'd never done anything like this before. He wasn't even sure if it would work at the low level of power he sent into Severus. To his complete shock, Severus' eyes closed immediately and he slumped sideways on the couch as if hit with the Killing Curse.
Harry caught him before he fell all the way. Panicked at the thought of the Killing Curse, he quickly checked Severus' throat for a pulse. To his utter relief, he could feel the steady throb below Severus' still chilly skin.
Releasing a deep breath, Harry shifted Severus around until he was stretched out on the couch with his head pillowed in his lap. A thought removed Severus' shoes, jacket, and winter robes. Harry considered transforming Severus' shirt and trousers into his favourite night shirt, but then decided that that might be too huge a liberty. He manifested a couple more blankets, and levitated them until they were snug around Severus.
Sitting back against the couch, he stared down at Severus' ravaged, stark-featured face. Everything he'd endured in Burke's keep seemed to be etched into those hard lines and angles. Unable to stop himself, he stroked his fingertips across the still-chilly, wind-burned skin. He let his fingers slip into the dark hair he'd loved to play with.
Severus' hair wasn't as soft as he remembered it. In fact, it was a sticky, malodorous mess. Harry couldn't remember when he'd ever seen Severus' hair in this state. Now that he was this close, he couldn't help but notice that it had been some time since Severus had employed the cleansing charms he used to use several times a day. Severus had never been particularly regular about bathing, but he'd always been fastidiously clean. Getting a whiff of him, Harry began to understand why Minerva might have felt compelled to talk to Severus today.
It wasn't anything soap and water couldn't fix, he told himself, settling the fingers of his right hand to rest in the filthy hair. He reached out with his left for his tea mug and took a deep sip, relaxing into the comfortable corner of the couch.
He couldn't credit how good it felt to be back in this room with Severus, even if the circumstances weren't exactly what he would have wished for.
His magic was still flowing through Severus. It was more than a monitoring charm, but not quite an active spell. He could feel how terribly the exhausted man lying against him needed this sleep. Severus' body felt as if it were aching for rest.
His own wasn't much different, Harry acknowledged, recognizing how weary he was himself. Letting his eyes drift closed, he listened to the reassuring rhythm of Severus' breath and the cheerful crackling of the nearby fire.
An hour or so later, he felt the change in Severus' system. Forcing his eyes open, he stared down at Severus' emotion-wrenched face. The magic flowing into Severus told him the tumult Severus' nervous system was in. His companion was obviously caught in the grips of one of those horrific nightmares.
Still not entirely sure what he was doing, Harry upped the power flow to Severus. Instinct guiding him, he used his magic to force Severus' agitated system back into the peaceful rhythms that had defined his sleep earlier. He did everything he could to create a web of safety and protection around Severus. Ever so slowly, Severus' perturbed system settled back into easy slumber. Most importantly, Severus didn't awaken.
Harry watched the lines of strain ease from those harsh features as his magic derailed Severus' nightmare. When he was certain Severus was deeply and peacefully asleep again, he shifted down on the couch until its well-padded corner was supporting his head and drifted off again himself.
*~*~*
Severus' eyes snapped open. All he could see was the textured grey of knitted wool. Confused, he stared into what seemed to be a grey jumper that his face appeared to be pressed into. Taking stock of himself, he realized that his cheek was pillowed on something warm and firm that could only be someone's lap. As his mind was besieged with the what, where, and who of it, the legs supporting his cheek shifted.
Harry Potter's unmistakable voice gave a sleepy, "Good morning."
Disjointed memories of Harry leading him back to the castle from that awful storm he'd been standing in slithered through his mind. Realizing that he had no right to be lying here with his head in Harry's lap, he forced himself up.
As his sleepy mind became cognizant of his physical state, Severus realized that this was the first time in months that he hadn't woken in stark terror. More than that, his eyes weren't gritty and sore this morning. Nor did his muscles feel as though he'd spent the night being stretched on Burke's rack. He still felt awfully tired, but it wasn't the abject exhaustion he was used to experiencing. Abruptly, he recalled Harry's offer to help him last night. Clearly, he owed the first decent night's sleep he'd had since January to Harry's magic.
Not knowing what to say, he watched Harry shift up from his slumped position in the corner of the couch and stretch. From the wince Harry gave, it seemed his neck was bothering him. Little wonder, that. He realized that Harry must have spent the entire night sitting there safeguarding him while he slept. He couldn't recall having a single nightmare.
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked, nothing but worry in his face.
Severus gave a dry swallow. He felt mortified and deeply ashamed. Harry should not be here doing these things for him. Finding his voice, he rasped out, "I . . . should not have imposed on you last night. This was . . . ." Words failed him under the enormity of this new transgression.
"You were out on your feet last night. It was me who did the imposing, so let's not worry about that right now," Harry dismissed in that easygoing way he had and repeated, "How are you feeling?"
Reading the genuine concern in those tired features, Severus answered, "Better. I . . . thank you."
"You look a lot better," Harry said. "But you probably could use another two or three days sleep. I know I could."
"You should not be exhausting yourself on my behalf," Severus said, uneasy under that steady, green gaze that he remembered so well.
"I didn't exhaust myself. Last night was actually the first night I got some real sleep since January," Harry said.
Reading the truth in that, Severus dropped his gaze to the stained trousers he was wearing. His shirt wasn't in much better state, he realized, taking in the unwashed linen. He could smell himself. He knew Harry had to be able to smell him, too. He reeked, and, yet, Harry was sitting there close beside him as though everything were perfectly normal.
"Severus?"
Snagged by the softness in that voice that could lure him into his grave, he made himself look back up and meet those concerned eyes. "Yes?"
"We've both been through the wringer since January. If something helps, maybe we shouldn't question it too much."
"I can't allow you to -" Severus began.
Harry cut him off with an adamant, "Yes, you can. You slept. I slept. It was a mutually beneficial exchange."
"You spent the night twisted like a pretzel," Severus said. Even now, Harry was moving his head as if trying to loosen the muscles in his neck. Time was when he would have reached over to knead those aches away, but those days were long gone.
"But I slept," Harry said with a small smile.
Though it had felt like heaven to sleep straight through last night, Severus' conscience wouldn't allow him to do so at Harry's expense. "You cannot spend every night sitting upright on a couch."
"Then we'll move into the bedroom tonight," Harry said. The tension that claimed him must have shown on his face, for Harry continued with, "Oh, for . . . we'll wear pyjamas, all right? If it's that big a deal, I'll transfigure a cot next to your bed. I just have to be close enough to you for my magic to flow. We'll work it out. Please, don't . . . stress over this? Last night helped us both. Let's try it, okay? Please?"
His pride was insisting that he reject the offer out of hand. Only, what Harry had done for him last night felt like it had snatched him back from the brink of insanity. Though hardly normal, his mind was functioning much clearer this morning than it had in months. His body wasn't a collection of aches and throbs. He felt . . . transformed. How could he possibly turn down the offer of another nightmare-free night?
"I know it is weak," Severus said, "but . . . ."
"It's not weak," Harry denied. "It's sensible. We both need the rest. Now, do you feel up to some breakfast?"
To his complete surprise, he was starving. Giving a nod, Severus watched Harry, still unable to understand why he was here involving himself in his problems.
"Good," Harry said with a genuine grin. "Why don't you go take a shower while I ask Dobby to get us something to eat?"
Although the suggestion was lightly voiced, Severus could see how hard Harry was struggling to maintain the semblance of normality. No one knew better than he how close he was to snapping and losing the slippery grip he had on sanity. He wanted to let Harry know how much he appreciated the effort he was making here, but couldn't think of a way to do so without turning the scene into some maudlin horror that would embarrass them both.
Finding the tattered remains of his humour, Severus held those hopeful eyes and said in his driest tone, "You could just say I stink."
Harry's eyes widened and then he chuckled. "Okay, you stink. Go shower."
Amazed, Severus felt his own lips twitch. It was incredible what a single night's uninterrupted sleep could do for a person's outlook on life. Holding those laughing eyes, he said, "You needn't be so blunt. Don't you Gryffindors have even a vestige of diplomacy?"
"The reek killed it," Harry countered, barely getting the words out around his laughter. "Go on. Get in there and bathe."
Severus couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Harry laugh like this. The sound was oddly healing.
For the first time in forever, there wasn't even a shadow of strain between them. Things weren't normal by any stretch of the imagination, but there wasn't any hostility or contention tainting the air, only the reek of his unwashed body.
