When Harry woke up, all he knew was that someone was holding his hand. He was surprised, a little, and he didn’t know where he was or who would be holding his hand, so he opened his eyes and looked over.

Snape was there, next to his bed, holding his hand, looking at him with concern, and Harry thought he might still be asleep. “Potter,” he said, and Harry struggled to sit up.

“I’m sorry, we were going to tell you—“

“Potter—“

“We were, but we passed the wall and it just, I heard the snakes talking and we couldn’t waste any more time, I’m sorry, I’m sor—“

“Potter!” Snape snapped, and Harry stopped talking and looked down at the blanket. Snape pushed him back into a reclining position. “Lie down.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry said softly. “I’m not—I don’t need to lie down, I feel fine.”

Snape growled, but allowed Harry to sit up. All signs of concern were quickly leaving his body, and he looked like he was barely restraining himself from yelling. Harry reached over and grabbed his glasses, looking around. In a bed to the left, Ron Weasley was surrounded by what seemed to be a dozen red heads. A woman was holding him and crying, while a balding man who must have been his father kept leaning over and ruffling Ron’s hair. Harry turned away, a sharp pain in his chest.

“I’m really sorry, sir. I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Potter, shut up!” Snape snapped again, and Harry looked down at his blanket again, but not before seeing Ron’s father shoot a look at Snape.

“Excuse me,” Harry heard, and he looked up to see the man shaking Snape’s hand. “Professor Snape, pleasure to see you again. I would like a moment with Harry, if you would.” Snape scowled The man looked at him and smiled kindly. “I’m Arthur Weasley, Harry. Ron’s father.”

“H-hello.” Harry ducked his head back down.

“I—Molly and I, we just wanted to thank you. For saving our boy.” The man sounded close to tears, and Harry looked up again to see his watery-blue eyes sparkle. “I don’t know what we would do if he—“ The man swallowed and got a grip on himself. Offering Harry another smile, he extended his hand. “Molly and I, we aren’t rich, but if you ever need anything—you, you just come to us, and we’ll do our best.”

He shook Harry’s hand, gently. “Thank you.” With that, the man retreated back to Ron’s bed.

Harry looked up at Snape again.

“How could you do something so unspeakably foolish?” Snape snapped as soon as the Weasley was out of hearing range. “Risking your own life for that pathetic brat—“

“It—it just all happened so fast. I didn’t—“

“You didn’t think, is that what you’re going to say? Well, Potter, you can’t afford not to think!” Snape sat down and glared at the boy. “You could have died.”

“I—“

“You could have died, you and your little friends, and he could have come back. There was a lot more riding on this than Ron Weasley’s life and your damnable bravery!” Snape yelled, and all the Weasley’s turned to look. Snape was so angry he didn’t seem to care.

“We—we had to stop it. We just—we put it all together, after we saw the book, and we just—please, didn’t we do—everyone’s alright, didn’t we do the right thing?”

“YOU COULD HAVE DIED!” Snape howled, and he pushed himself away from Harry’s bed. “You could have died and all that could have been prevented if you had taken ten minutes and gotten me! Ten minutes, Potter!”

“We—it didn’t feel like we had that much time—“

“See here, Snape!” someone cried out, and Harry cringed as he saw Mr. Weasley walking over angrily. “That boy did an admirable thing—“

“Yes, and his death would have made it that much more so—“

“It was foolhardy, yes, but he saved my sons life.”

“And nearly lost his own in the undertaking!” Snape came over and raised Harry’s hand in the air, pulling the sleeve of his pajama top down. Harry looked at his arm with curiousity. What had made Snape so scared?

A long, purple cut went down his lower arm. Not even a cut, just a line of purple skin. Like a cut that had just recently healed.

“Four drops of phoenix tears and his arm still looks like that. A minute later and he would have died, regardless of what the phoenix did. Can you really tell me that his death would be worth it? Can you?”

Mr. Weasley had paled, and one of the twins—Fred? George?—had stepped forward, glaring angrily at Snape.

“Well, at least he’s a decent person. He, he didn’t just leave Ron to die. He, he helped him, because he’s a good person.”

“We’ll carve that on his grave, shall we, Weasley? ‘HARRY POTTER: A GOOD PERSON.’ An epitaph worthy of him.”

Harry swallowed. “I—sir, it’s—I’m sorry.”

“Really, Snape, you’re treating this child abomidably—“ Mr. Weasley protested.

“I—sir—“ Harry said again, and Snape tore his angry eyes from the Weasleys and instead fastened them on Harry, where the anger turned to worry and—fear?

Harry, even though he was still too weak to stand, felt like singing and dancing and jumping out of bed and throwing his arms around Snape. He was scared for him. He was scared Harry might die. Harry could take ten thousand beating, endure two months of scathing scoldings, but Snape cared about whether he lived or died. Snape cared about him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again to Snape, and this time the man seemed to hear him. He nodded curtly once, then spun around.

“Weasley. Ten points for questioning my disciplinary tactics.” Harry peered over and saw all the Weasleys (some who looked well over school-age) gaping at Snape in horror. The man smirked. “Since I forgot to specify which Weasley, it shall have to be all of you. Ten points each.” Snape nodded once again at Harry.

“Potter. I will visit you again this evening.” With that, he swept from the room, the door banging shut behind him.

“Foul git,” he heard someone mutter.

“Charlie, that’s no way to talk of your professor!” the woman said.

“He’s not my professor anymore, and he’s just as much a git as he was when I had him, if not more so,” the boy grumbled again.

“He was worried,” he heard Percy offer. “Harry thinks very highly of him.”

“A lack of proper role models,” one of the twins cracked.

“Ho, hum, Percy, m’boy, go tell that boy what’s what!”

“Stop it, you too, Percy’s been through an ordeal,” the woman saids, and Harry pulled the blanket over his head.

“Can’t believe you’re defending that evil arse, Perce—“ one of the twins said.

“You heard him! Yelling like that at a little kid who just went through all that—“ continued the other.

“Boys, now let’s be quiet and let Harry sleep,” Ron’s Father said, and the Weasley’s settled down except for bouts of low grumbling. Percy came over and sat in Professor Snape’s chair.

“How are you, Harry?” the boy asked.

“I’m—I feel fine. A little weak, though—how’s Ron? And Penny?”

Percy smiled, but it was a tired smile. He reached up and pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his free hand before returning them to his face. “Ron will be fine—very weak, as you said. No injuries or anything, he slept through it all, thank God. Pen—well, she’ll be alright. Professor Sprout is administering the Mandrake solution tonight, you know, and she’ll—it’s only been a few hours, she’s the luckiest of the lot.”

“And you? How’re you, Percy?”

“Fine. Neville and Hermione came by for you, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let them in. Neville gave me this, to give to you. I would have tried earlier, but Snape tore apart anyone who got close.” He produced the framed picture of Harry’s parents, and Harry took it gratefully.

“Thank you, Percy. What—what about Neville and Hermione? Are they all right?”

“Madam’s keeping them in observation in the next room. They’re fine, though—Neville got hit in the arm with some rubble and Hermione’s cut her face a little, but nothing serious.”

The twins came over then.

“Hey, Harry—“

“Sorry that Snape was such an absolute—“

“Git, but thanks for—“

“Saving ickle Ronniekins, we’re—“

“Grateful, all of us.”

Harry nodded, slightly bewildered, and more Weasley’s started to surround him. The woman, who had been hugging Ron, came over and hugged him. The man shook his hand again. The older boy, the one who’d called Snape a foul git, he tousled Harry’s hair and grinned, while Ginny merely blushed and whispered ‘Thanks’. The most impressive was a boy with long hair and a tooth dangling from his ear, who shook Harry’s hand solemnly then slapped his hand in a high five.

The Weasley’s stayed, carrying on about Ron, for another half-hour before Madam kicked them out. Harry had taken to his before-bed ritual—tracing his parents faces in the photograph over and over.

“Er—I s’pose my family said it all before, but I—I s’pose I should thank you,” Ron said awkwardly. “For saving my life, and all that. So—so, thanks.”

“It’s—it’s alright. Erm—thank you for thanking me,” Harry said, equally awkward.

Ron nodded. “Er—yeah.”

They both went to sleep after that.

000000000000000000000000000

Severus went straight to the headmaster’s office from the Infirmary.

The man was sitting behind his desk, staring at the sword on it and he had his thinking expression on—a vague, grandfatherly look, though his eyes seemed stormy and troubled. Snape burst through the doors and stood in the center of the carpet, unceremoniously stating his demands.

“Harry Potter is not to go home to his relatives over this break.”

Dumbledore looked up. “I had wondered how long it would be before you came to me.” Snape growled. “Truly, Severus, do you think that watching the boy keep coming back in pain amuses me? At least you have the satisfaction of knowing what happened. I look at him, some days, and I wonder what terrible things occur, and I wonder why you both blocked me out.”

“You were going to take his wand away.”

“But I did not, and I apologized.”

“He’s afraid you’ll throw him out.”

“I would never do such a thing.”

“He’s still afraid. He’s afraid of you, Headmaster, and you’d best rectify that, because that boy is the bravest child I’ve ever known. And he’ll fight until he dies, but not for someone he’s afraid of.” Dumbledore nodded slowly, reluctantly.

“You say Mr. Potter cannot return to his relatives. Is there anything that you can say, on the record, that can be cited as cause?”

Severus wanted to scream, and he saw the same in the headmaster’s eyes. “I have to ask, Severus, you know it.”

“I—nothing I can say on the record, no.”

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. “Severus, tell me—Mr. Potter is gifted in Potions, is he not?”

“What has that to do—“ Severus started to snap, then he looked at the headmaster approvingly. “Yes. He is.”

“Extra summer tuition, I suppose, would help increase his natural talent, would it not?”

“It would. Exponentially.”

Dumbledore nodded. “I see. Well, it will take a few weeks to arrange such a thing—“

“A few weeks? That’s too long!”

Dumbledore looked sadly at Snape. “The best I can do for this year, I’m afraid. Not longer than a month, for sure. Perhaps less.”

Severus was thinking of all the damage that could be inflicted in a month, and his dark musings were interupted with Dumbledore’s own, outloud musings.

“The family will, of course, need notification. Perhaps you could go and have a chat with them, Severus.”

Snape’s eyes gleamed. “Right now?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Right now.”

Severus gave a short nod and had tossed floo powder into the grate before anything else could be said.

“The address, Albus?” Severus asked as he stepped into the flames.

“Number Four, Privet Drive,” Albus said. “Oh, and Severus?”

Snape raised an eyebrow, and Dumbledore smiled an un-Dumbledore-like smile.

“Tell them I say hello.”

The man nodded and was gone from sight.

0000000000000000000000

Harry was leaving the Infirmary, with help from Hermione and Neville, when the Professor came to see him.

“Potter. The headmaster has expressed a desire for you to receive some potions training this summer.”

“Does—does that mean—“

“You will, however, have to return to your relatives for a few weeks. No more than a month, I am assured.” The hopeful smile that had grown on Harry’s face fell. “However, I have exchanged words with your relations, and if anything…untoward happens they are aware that the consequences are not to be desired.”

Harry blinked. “Did—what did—“ Harry suddenly had an image of Snape bellowing ‘Fifty points!’ in Uncle Vernon’s face and issuing Aunt Petunia a detention de-venoming snakes, and he let out a small giggle.

“My dad said that I could go visit Harry whenever I wanted,” Hermione threw in.

“And—s-sir, Harry can still come stay with me, can’t he? Gran said that I could invite everyone over again,” Neville said.

Snape smiled thinly. “I am sure that can be arranged, Longbottom.”

Neville nodded. “Er—what about in the mean time, sir? What if they—“

“Mr. Potter, you will wear this at all times for the duration of your stay at the Dursleys,” Snape said, holding forward the same silver chain as before. Harry took it slowly. “Do you understand?”

Harry looked up at his professor, whose eyes were slightly concerned but slightly—happy? Nervous? Harry couldn’t tell—and at his friends, who were smiling with relief and yet a little apprehensive, and Harry wondered how his life had changed so much without him noticing.

“I understand,” he said, and he fastened the chain around his neck.