As he rose from the couch and headed to the bedroom to retrieve fresh undergarments and clothes, Severus couldn't help but wonder just what kind of magic Harry had used on him last night. He knew Harry hadn't violated his mind, but he felt so entirely transformed that he couldn't help but suspect that Harry had performed some kind of manipulation beyond simply providing him some much needed sleep. Twenty-four hours ago, he'd been convinced his world was ending. Minerva had all but told him she was going to pack him off to St. Mungo's. The situation with Harry had seemed hopeless. It felt like everything was crashing down on him. But now . . . .
The situation with Harry didn't seem quite so hopeless. That was the one, true difference, Severus recognized. There was no chance that they would ever be lovers again or regain the closeness they'd lost when he'd betrayed Harry's trust, but Harry really seemed to have forgiven him enough to be his friend. That unexpected boon was enough to lessen even the threat of St. Mungo's.
He was getting his shirt from the drawer when he heard a house elf's high-pitched voice ask, "Harry Potter called Dobby?"
"Hi, Dobby," Harry said in the cheerful, friendly tone he always used with the strange little creature. "Could you please prepare Professor Snape and me some breakfast?"
"Is Harry Potter staying with Professor Snape again?" Dobby asked, his curious voice carrying through the open door.
Severus froze, his breathing even seeming to still as he awaited Harry's response. He knew Harry wouldn't berate the elf for its impudence in asking such a personal question, but he fully expected Harry to put the elf straight.
The pause before Harry answered seemed to last an eternity, then Harry's soft voice drifted in with an unperturbed sounding, "Yes. You will bring us some of that marmalade Professor Snape likes so much, won't you?"
His world mightn't be crashing in on him this morning, but Harry's words really made him feel as if someone had tugged the ground out from under him.
Severus caught hold of the dresser as he swayed and took deep breaths. His eyes were stinging and he felt like he might break down at any moment, but . . . for the first time in months, it wasn't misery causing that reaction.
Finally getting a hold of himself, he extracted a crisp white shirt from a drawer full of identical garments, eased the drawer closed, and slipped from the bedroom into the nearby bathroom unnoticed as Harry conversed with the house elf.
After the events of January, he'd thought he'd never feel good again, but at the moment, he felt . . . almost blessed. He had no idea what he'd done to deserve this boon, but it certainly beat yesterday's utter desolation hands down.
*~*~*
"Do you have a minute?" Harry asked, sticking his head in Minerva's office door after she'd responded to his knock.
The spring morning seemed to be reflecting the change in his life, Harry thought as he took in the bright sunlight streaming down behind Minerva's desk. Last night's storm had passed, and winter was finally beginning to loosen its hold on the world.
"Of course, Harry. Come in," Minerva said, putting aside whatever she'd been writing.
Harry entered the Headmistress' office, giving a smile and "Hi," to Professor Dumbledore's waving portrait as he took a seat before her desk.
"What can I do for you?" she asked.
Harry met her pale blue eyes and decided not to waste time with small talk. "Severus told me that you want to commit him to St. Mungo's."
She didn't seem surprised by the topic. Taking a deep breath, she said, "You can't pretend to tell me that you think he's improving. He's had six shouting matches with students this week. And I think you must have heard about the entire fourth year Gryffindor class getting a month's detention."
"Minerva, he's had shouting matches with students for years. We used to have them on a daily basis."
"Yes, but these incidents are different. He isn't stable. He's -"
"He's been through hell," Harry cut her off. "You know what Burke did to him. Teaching is the only thing holding him together right now."
"Harry, I have to think of the students' well-being. He isn't behaving rationally right now. He isn't even managing his hygiene. I've had three teachers in here complaining about the state he's in and dozens of students complaining about how abusive he's become. I can't continue to ignore this. I've been hoping since he returned to work that he would pull himself together, but that hasn't happened. A stay in St. Mungo's . . . ."
"Will only finish what Burke started," Harry said. "You know he wouldn't last a week there. I appreciate your concerns, but I'm asking you as a personal favour to please not do this to him."
"Do you think I want to? I've known the man thirty years. But I can't ignore what's happening to him," Minerva said.
"I know. I realize that Severus has been incredibly stressed lately, but he slept for the first time in months last night. I can't say that he's cured or perfect, but he's better than he was yesterday. I think the tide is finally turning for him. If you could give him another chance . . . ?"
She seemed to study him for a long moment. "You're saying he's better than yesterday?"
Harry held her gaze and nodded. "He slept the night through, ate both breakfast and lunch, and showered this morning."
"And you feel this is some kind of turning point?"
Harry couldn't blame her for the scepticism she couldn't quite hide. Severus had scared him last night. Doubtless, he'd had the same effect on Minerva earlier yesterday. Nevertheless, he held her gaze and said, "Yes. I'm willing to take responsibility for him. If you'd just give him a week -"
"What kind of healing can take place in a week?" Minerva asked. Harry's hopes plummeted, but her subsequent words shocked the hell out of him. "No. I'll give him another month. If he hasn't shown a marked improvement by then, I'm going to have to insist that he seek professional help for his own sake, as well as that of his students."
Stunned by her generosity, he stumbled for words, "Thank you, Minerva. I hardly know what to say."
"He's my friend, too, Harry. I pray you're right. It's painful seeing him this way," she said.
Harry nodded. "I know, but . . . he's the strongest person I know, Minerva. He'll get through this."
Her smile was bright as the spring sun shining through the window at her back. "I think you just may be right about that." Her blue eyes roved over his face before she commented, "You're looking markedly better yourself, if you don't mind my saying."
Harry grinned. "Thanks. I feel better. I'll, er, let you get back to your paperwork."
"I'll see you at dinner," she said as he rose to his feet.
Back in the corridor, he abruptly felt at loose ends. He knew he could go up to Gryffindor tower and hang out with Hermione and Ron for the rest of the afternoon, but everything in him was pulling him towards the dungeons.
The change last night's sleep had wrought on Severus was nothing short of miraculous. A part of him was afraid if he left Severus alone too long, he'd suffer a relapse. But more than that crazy fear was motivating his urge to see Severus. He really wanted to simply spend time with the man. Hoping he wasn't going to try Severus' nerves, he headed for the Slytherin end of the castle.
His knock was answered after a short pause. Harry could read Severus' surprise as he opened the door.
"Er, hi," Harry nervously greeted, trying not to let his eyes feast too long on the sight of the clean, rested man before him. There were still dark bags beneath Severus' eyes, but they didn't look nearly as sore as they had the past few months.
"Hello," Severus responded, seeming confused rather than annoyed at his interruption. "Did you leave something behind?"
Harry shook his head. "I, um, wanted to . . . I mean . . . . Could I come in, please?"
Yesterday, his request would have met with automatic refusal, but this afternoon, Severus opened the door wider and stepped wordlessly aside to allow him entry.
Stepping into Severus' familiar sitting room, he couldn't help but note the towering piles of parchments covering the breadth of the long coffee table between the couch and hearth. They hadn't been there when he'd left this morning. "What's all this?"
A chagrined expression crossed Severus' face. "Three weeks worth of ungraded homework. I . . . hadn't realized how much had accumulated. It's little wonder Minerva was so alarmed yesterday."
"Speaking of Minerva, I just had a chat with her," Harry said. Feeling the tension in the room increase tenfold, he quickly continued, "She's agreed to give us another month before revisiting the St. Mungo's issue."
"A month?" Severus appeared stunned.
"She doesn't want you gone, Severus. She wants you better. We all do."
Severus' gaze dropped. "I . . . must have made quite a spectacle of myself these last few weeks to have inspired so much concern."
Harry didn't know how to answer that. He wanted to refute the 'spectacle' suggestion, but he hadn't lied to Severus yet. "No one could be expected to bounce back as if nothing happened after what you went through in January. You survived something that would have killed anyone else. Just because you can't pretend that it didn't happen doesn't make you weak."
Those dark eyes rose to meet his gaze. "I . . . feel worse than weak. I feel . . . shattered."
Severus' uneasiness at having voiced that was palpable.
Harry could hardly believe Severus had managed to be that open about what he was experiencing. Recognizing the honour that had just been paid him, he moved closer. Laying his hand on Severus' tense arm, he said, "Of course, you feel that way. You were an inch from death. Who wouldn't feel broken after what you went through? But you got through what Burke did to you, and you're going to get through this."
There was no missing Severus' complete disbelief.
Stepping closer, Harry gave Severus' back a gentle nudge, inviting him into his arms.
Severus resisted for a moment. Harry could see the internal war raging behind those troubled eyes. Their gazes held, and then Severus seemed to collapse into his embrace, clinging to him as if for dear life.
Realizing that this simple hug could be that momentous an event in this haunted man's reality, Harry pressed closer and let his hand rub over the warm brocade jacket covering Severus' back. After a long time of simply hugging Severus, he whispered, "I know you must feel like everything is falling apart right now, but I promise you, that's not going to happen. We're going to get through this."
Severus lifted his face from where it was squashed in the hollow of Harry's neck far enough to look down at him and softly question, "We?"
"You're not alone. We'll do it together," Harry promised. He couldn't help but remember the last promise he'd made to Severus, that he wouldn't let anyone hurt Severus. He'd failed miserably at keeping that promise, but as this one was solely dependent upon his own actions, he felt more sanguine about keeping it.
Harry expected to see doubt or suspicion in Severus' face. He knew how hard it was for Severus to trust under the best of circumstances. But Severus seemed more bewildered than sceptical as he said, "I don't understand why you don't hate me for what I did to you that night on the quidditch pitch."
Harry felt his muscles tense as Severus brought up that explosive issue again. Sensing that Severus wasn't going to be able to relax until he had an explanation, he softly offered, "Love doesn't disappear just because people mess up."
"Love . . . ?" Severus appeared pole axed.
Harry had hoped to avoid this issue completely until Severus was on more stable emotional footing. He hadn't wanted to introduce anything into their fragile relationship that could worry or threaten Severus. It didn't take a genius to know that a man who'd been brutally raped mightn't be comfortable hearing that another man had feelings for him.
Only, Severus wasn't looking scared or threatened. Taking heart from that, Harry answered, "Yeah, I, er . . . still feel that way about you." Knowing that he probably shouldn't have said that while Severus was still so messed up, he quickly added in a rushed tone, "You don't have to worry. I know you're . . . not up to doing the things we used to do, and . . . I understand that you might never be. I just . . . care. I'd never force you or -"
"Harry," Severus interrupted his panicked rush.
Something in Severus' tone and expression stopped his babbling. Not sure what Severus was feeling, Harry responded with a nervous, "Yes?"
It seemed to take Severus a moment to phrase his thoughts. When he spoke, it was in that careful tone with which Severus used to voice his responses to Harry's own avowals when they'd been lovers. "While Burke might have destroyed my . . . belief in my own character, there was nothing he could do to shake my belief in yours. And he did try."
Reading truth in those totally unnerved eyes, something seemed to break inside Harry. Shaking all over, he mumbled, "God, Severus," and wrapped his arms back around him.
They were both shaking. The closeness seemed to help, though. This felt like what they'd been needing all along. After a time, the trembling stopped.
Harry didn't try to hold on when Severus retreated from the hug, for all that he didn't want to let him go.
They stared awkwardly at each other, neither one of them seeming to know what to say.
Finally, Severus broke the silence with, "I need to start grading all that homework."
Harry looked at the daunting mounds of work. "Can I help?"
