He interrupted Severus' automatic, "You needn't -" with a cheery, "Come on. Two pairs of eyes will get through this twice as fast."
To Harry's intense relief, Severus gave a nervous nod. Side by side, they moved to the couch to begin the daunting task.
*~*~*
Harry Potter still loved him.
That was all Severus could think about as he followed the handsome young man at his side back to his couch.
The part of him that had never been able to believe himself worthy of any form of regard was struggling to refute what Harry had just said to him. Even if Burke hadn't mucked with his mind, he knew what he was. He knew that people only used him. But . . . Harry never had, not once, ever. While his nature demanded that he suspect the worst of anyone who involved themselves with him, he simply couldn't in Harry's case. Every bit of empirical evidence denied the possibility that Harry was helping him for any nefarious purpose. In every instance where Harry could have taken advantage of him, he hadn't.
If he needed any proof, he need only remember last night.
Severus knew he'd sunk to his lowest levels yesterday. He'd never felt as completely hopeless as he had standing on that freezing lakeshore, contemplating his grim future.
It had honestly seemed as if there had been nothing left to him. He knew if he were sent to St. Mungo's, that it would be the end of him. Minerva would have to find a replacement for him, and, once the new teacher was installed, what chance would he ever have of reclaiming his position? Were he any other Potions master, it might have been possible for him to secure a new position once - if - he recovered from his breakdown. However, former Death Eaters weren't exactly in high demand in any profession these days, and after October's public accusation of being a child molester, there was utterly no chance of him finding another teaching position.
His prospects had seemed as cold and uncaring as the sleet and wind ripping at him. There was no way he could fix these problems. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He was utterly ruined. There was nothing left for him but St. Mungo's and a slow, humiliating end. That was the only future he'd been able to see as he'd stood there in that savage weather. Then, at the darkest moment, when the icy water roiling in front of him had seemed his only true salvation, Harry Potter had appeared out of that brutal storm
With the state he was in, Harry could have done anything to him, but all the man had done was fish him out of that raging storm and use his magic to guarantee him the first decent night's rest he'd had in months. And today . . . Harry had spoken to Minerva and convinced her to give him another chance. In his whole life, no one had ever gone to bat for him like that, especially at a time when he himself was so uncertain of his ability to function. Severus knew he wouldn't have been able to promise Minerva that he'd be better in a month, but somehow, Harry had enough faith in him to do so.
And Harry had said he still loved him. Of everything that had happened since he'd rescued him last night, that was the most extraordinary event. He didn't understand how Harry could have forgiven what he'd done to him. Severus had felt that kind of betrayal and knew how deep it went. But, somehow, Harry had found his way through his disappointment to be here for him.
Severus knew he shouldn't accept this kindness. His pride was demanding that he send Harry away. Nothing had changed. Harry still knew what he'd done in school, what he'd been. Everything that had made him break it off with Potter in January was still true. Only . . . the sin he'd committed against Harry the night he'd manipulated Harry's mind weighed heavier on his soul than Harry knowing about his childhood indiscretions. What he'd done to Harry was insane and unforgivable. It was absolute proof that he was not in his right mind. That terrible wrong he'd committed had been eating at his conscience these last few weeks like acid, haunting him as much as Burke's tortures, weighing heavier than some of the things he'd done as a Death Eater before he'd come to his senses and joined Albus.
That Harry could care enough to help him after that kind of transgression was as astonishing as the fact that Harry had ever been interested in him at all. And, pride notwithstanding, Severus had never needed help more than he did right now. The sleep Harry's magic had given him last night was the greatest healing he'd ever experienced. He knew he wasn't cured or anywhere near normal, but his mind was clearer and his mood . . . well, for the first time in months he didn't feel like flinging himself off the Astronomy Tower or into the frozen lake. Harry had done that for him.
"Severus?"
Severus started as he realized that wasn't the first time Harry had called his name. "Yes?"
"Can you make me an answer key for each of these?" Harry pointed at the towering mounds of unmarked homework on the table in front of them. "That way we won't have to stop every half hour for you to make one up for me."
Severus nodded. Reaching for the nearest pile, he pulled out the most gifted student's homework, corrected the few points that needed fixing, and placed it on top of the pile for Harry to use.
The next half hour was spent doing the same for the rest. Just going through the papers, Severus was nearly cowed by the sheer volume. Seven classes a day, fifteen days of unmarked homework . . . there were literally hundreds of parchments that needed grading.
The trials of the last few months must have left him disgracefully transparent, for Harry softly promised, "We'll get through it."
"I'm sure this is how you enjoy spending your Saturday afternoons," Severus remarked, his guilt biting at him. He was the one who'd ignored his responsibilities this last month. Harry shouldn't be slugging through this mess he'd created.
Harry gave him a sheepish smile and answered in a self-conscious sounding tone, "Actually, I think I'd enjoy chopping toad hearts if it meant we could sit here together like this."
The scathing comment that sprang to his lips died there unvoiced as he read the truth in Harry's eyes. He might be insane, but even when completely unhinged, he knew how rare and undeserved this gift was. He would not make light of it.
Recalling how . . . abusive he'd been towards Harry since January, he realized how completely unfair this entire situation had been to Harry. All Harry had ever tried to do was love him and make things better for him, and he'd done nothing but punish the man. There wasn't anything he could do to make up for his past transgressions, but . . . insane though he might be, he could try to be less antagonistic in the future.
Harry obviously knew him well enough to have been braced for whatever he'd been about to say. When Severus made no caustic response to his admission of wanting to spend time with him, the tension left Harry's face, something very gentle taking its place.
"Here, you start with this pile," Harry said, passing him the nearest mound of homework. "I'll do this one."
Settling down to the task at hand, Severus began to work his way through the papers.
One problem that came from teaching the same subject for more than thirty years was the fact that he knew the topics so well that there were rarely any problems when it came to grading tests and homework. Normally, his familiarity with the subject was a plus, for it allowed him to get through his work faster than most of the other teachers did. But the more familiar a topic was, the harder it was to hold one's interest. Last night was the first true rest he'd had in weeks. His body and mind were still bone weary. Before Severus knew it, he found himself fighting to keep his eyes open as he marked the fifth years' work.
Despite his best effort, his heavy eyelids kept sinking shut as the words on the page blurred together. He forced them open several times, but finally his lids felt too heavy to lift. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to keep them closed for just a few moments . . . .
Severus started awake an unknown time later. The first thing he noticed was that his papers were no longer in his hands and that he was flat on his back on the couch. Turning on his side to get a better look at his surroundings, he saw Harry Potter sitting on the rug in front of the couch reading a Muggle thriller.
Seeming to sense the observation, Harry looked over and smiled. "Hello, there. How are you feeling?"
"How long have I been asleep?"
"About six hours," Harry answered.
Six hours? Recalling the chore that would have required him to be working on grading homework all day both Saturday and Sunday to complete the task by Monday, he bolted up on the couch. "The homework -"
"Is done," Harry assured.
"Done? You got through that pile alone in six hours?" Severus knew Harry wasn't that fast. For all that he might be the mightiest wizard the world had seen, academics were not Harry's strong suit.
"Well, not by myself. Hermione and Ron helped."
"What? They were here?" Severus couldn't believe that he'd been so out of it that he would have slept through the Weasleys crossing his wards.
"No, I firecalled them," Harry said.
Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, Severus struggled to get some perspective on the situation. His resolve to be less contentious was fading fast. Everything inside him wanted to explode at the idea of Harry advertising how negligent he'd been by requesting help. When he thought he could speak without screaming, he tightly said, "It wasn't . . . appropriate for you to inflict this upon the Weasleys. It's bad enough that you're helping me without everyone -"
"Severus," Harry cut into his rising diatribe. "It wasn't everyone. Just Hermione and Ron. They care about you, too. This was something they could do to make your life a little easier. I told them when I asked that they could say 'no' if they'd rather not. They really wanted to."
"Nevertheless, you shouldn't have -"
"Please, let it go? The papers are graded. You got some more sleep, and you have all of tomorrow to rest without this burden hanging over your head."
"It was my responsibility. I was the one who was derelict in my duties."
Harry's expression hardened. "You weren't derelict in anything. You're recovering from tortures that would have killed most people. For God's sake, stop being so hard on yourself. I know how proud you are, how difficult it is for you to let anyone do anything for you, but this really isn't a big deal."
"I might be insane, but I refuse to be an object of either pity or charity," Severus insisted.
"Oh, for . . . you're not insane. And it wasn't pity or charity, okay? Whether you like it or not, you're part of our family now. Families help each other. That's what they do."
Staring into those impassioned eyes, Severus felt completely out of his depth. He knew as little about families as he did of love. Finally, he said, "I gave up that right when I violated your trust."
"Who says?"
"None of you spoke to me for more than a month. That's a fairly clear indication that a situation has changed," Severus said.
"We were angry at you, with reason. But that was last month. That's in the past now."
Harry meant it. Severus could see from his exasperated expression how tired he was of the subject.
"Look, if either Hermione or Ron were badly hurt and needed help grading homework, you'd do it for them, wouldn't you?" Harry asked into the silence a short time later.
"Ron isn't a teacher."
"That's not the point. Just answer the question. If you could help either of them with a couple of hours' easy work, would you do it?"
Remembering all the times the Weasleys had visited him in infirmary, he gave a reluctant nod.
"Then why can't you accept that they feel the same way? We've been watching you suffer for months now, unable to do a thing to help you. This was something we could do, and it wasn't any great effort, so, please . . . don't be angry about it. Please?"
He'd never had any resistance to that beseeching expression. Taking a deep breath, Severus slowly nodded again. Realizing how . . . ungrateful his reaction had been, he softly offered. "I do . . . appreciate what you and your friends have done for me -"
"Our friends," Harry corrected. "And there's no need for appreciation. This isn't about debts and owing people. So, please try not to worry over it, okay?"
Severus didn't know how to accept this. Harry was acting as if what he and the Weasleys had done was of small importance, but he'd never had anyone do anything like this for him in his whole life, especially not people he'd disappointed so bitterly. How Harry and the Weasleys could still care about him was a complete mystery, but, faced with the solid evidence of their continued support, he could no longer doubt it.
Something in him needed to point out his unworthiness, but . . . Harry knew what he was, and was still here. Overwhelmed by it all, he just stared at the incredible man sitting at his feet.
"Are you hungry?" Harry asked when the silence started to stretch. "Dobby said he'd bring us dinner when you were ready. Should I call him?"
Realizing how ravenous he was, Severus gave a soft, "Yes."
Three hours later, Severus found himself yawning over the Potions journal he was reading, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"Are you about ready for bed?" Harry asked from the other armchair.
"Bed? I've only been up three hours."
"You've got a lot of missed sleep to catch up on," Harry said in his usual easygoing tone. "I'm knackered myself."
Remembering that Harry was the one who'd stayed awake and graded that intimidating mountain of work, Severus could well understand why the man would be tired.
"Nine p.m. could be considered late, if one were a toddler," Severus said, trying for something like normality.
"Well, let's toddle off to bed, then, shall we?" Harry responded with a smile.
It felt almost like old times as Harry and he rose from their chairs and moved towards the bedroom. Harry extinguished the wall sconces with a thought and lit the ones in the bedroom the same way when they stepped through the door. As he watched the fire in the hearth spark to life as well, Severus was surprised by how much he'd missed these little indications of Harry's tremendous power.
