"Is it safe to remove the cloak now, Grace?" Harry asked, his face filled with uncertainty, anxiety, and trepidation.  He desperately wanted her to say yes but at the same time he was terrified that Severus would wake up, take one look at him, and order him away.  So pervasive was this fear that it made him feel ill. 

"Yes, the curse is broken now that the Dagger of Discord is destroyed." Grace reassured him.  "However, it may take Professor Snape a while longer to recover from the effects of the curse."

"What do you mean?"

"That was a powerful curse, Harry. Breaking it only means he will survive, it does not repair the damage done to him magically, physically, and mentally.  I will be able to tell more once he wakes." The enchantress said, and then she spoke a soft word and set her hands upon the Stasis Cloak, whisking it off the Potions Master.  Removed, the cloak's magical light faded and it became a piece of clothing once more.  Grace folded it into a square and handed it to her son. "Jace, put it away for me."

But Harry stepped in front of the younger Witherspoon. "I can do that, Grace. Where does it go?"

"In the study, in the rosewood trunk in the far right corner." Grace answered, surprised that Harry would volunteer for anything that took him away from his mentor right then.  "The password to open it is  magic's heart." She drew her wand.  "I shall cast some diagnostics while you are gone. He should begin to wake soon from the stasis."

Harry slipped from the room, cradling the cloak close.  He knew he was behaving like a coward, fleeing from the scene before Severus woke, but he could not bear to see the condemnation in the older wizard's eyes when he looked at his apprentice.  He won't want to see me anyhow, he tried to rationalize his flight.  Why would he want to see me, who almost killed him? Better that I stay away, he'll probably have a relapse or something if he sees me first thing when he wakes up. He headed for the study, which was a small room just off the master bedroom, where the elder Witherspoons wrote their correspondences and read their spellbooks.  It was also where their owl, Brennatallia, had her cage, though she was almost never inside it, being given free run of the cottage and its environs.

Harry entered the study, which lit as soon as he set a toe over the threshold. Jace had explained all the rooms were spelled so, his mother had created wards to detect when a person entered a room and they in turn activated a Lumos spell she had set over the room.  He quickly located the rosewood trunk in the corner, it was a beautifully carved old piece, and spoke the password before lifting the lid and placing the cloak inside. He settled it on top a variety of blankets and scarves and other articles of clothing, all of them enchanted, he suspected, by the lady of the house. He hesitated, then slowly closed the lid and stood staring down at the top of the trunk, which had been carved with pretty vines, leaves, and climbing roses.

Is he awake yet? How did the curse affect him? I hope . . .Merlin I hope he can recover from this.  If I've damaged him permanently . . .he'll never forgive me and I won't blame him, because I'll never forgive myself either. Please, oh please, don't let that happen.  He didn't know who he was praying to, God, the Moon Lady Meadowsweet and the wolfen worshipped, Merlin, or some unnamed Power.  Growing up with the Dursleys, he had never gotten much in the way of religion, since the only deity the Durselys worshipped was Wealth and its companion, Prestige.   He had no real basis for faith, but he was desperate for something to help him, something that would relieve him of the awful burden of guilt that weighed him down like a ton of stones upon his back. 

He crept back along the corridor, pausing just outside the sickroom door, close enough to hear anything said but not close enough to be seen. He transformed his eyes into those of his hawk ego so he could see inside the room without getting too near the doorway. 

Grace was bent over the still form of the Potions Master, murmuring softly. 

"Mum? How is he?" asked Jace worriedly.

Grace straightened.  "Well, he's starting to come out of the stasis, but he's very weal magically and physically, that curse drained his reserves down to nearly nothing, and that is saying something, considering he is a master wizard with a very large reserve to draw upon."

"How can you tell that?"

"Is is an ability an enchantress possesses," Grace replied, tucking the covers more securely about Severus's lean frame.  "Had he been a less powerful wizard, he would have died from the curse before I could get to him.  As it is, I've no doubt he will be running a fever and his lungs seem congested too."

Probably from where I stabbed him, Harry thought darkly, though he had no way of knowing if the dagger had struck a lung or not.  So Severus's magic had saved him after all. 

"Are there potions to restore his magic?" was Jace's next question.

"Yes, but they are difficult to prepare and can only be taken in small doses," his mother answered. She peered at the wizard and noted his eyelids fluttering. "Look, he is waking.  Where has Harry gotten to?"

"Want me to go find him, Mum?" Jace offered. 

"Stay a minute. I don't want him to wake and see a strange face. He knows you, son."

The Potions Master's eyes fluttered open and he blinked slowly, gazing up at Jace and his mother with puzzlement.  "Where . . .am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.  "Who are you?"

The question was directed at Grace, but Jace answered it.  "Professor Snape, it's Jace, remember me? I'm in Slytherin. Jace Witherspoon."

Recognition flared in the ebony eyes then.  "Yes. . . Jace, my resident reader.  Are you . . .keeping your shields intact like I taught you?"

"Yes, sir. They really helped me.  How are you feeling, sir?"

Severus grimaced as pain shot through his head.  "I am . . .not well." One hand sought his chest, where he recalled a shining golden dagger plunging into him. But his hand only encountered cloth, and when he pressed down upon it, there was no pain, as there would have been if the wound he had taken was still healing.  "My wound . . .it is healed . . .How?"

"I healed it, Severus Snape," Grace said then.  "I am Grace Witherspoon, Jace's mother.  Welcome to my home.  My husband and son rescued you and your apprentice from the werewolves and brought you here, to my home.  You have been under a stasis spell for several days while we struggled to break the curse of the Dagger of Discord."

Severus frowned as he attempted to digest the information he had been given, he was exhausted and his mind was all fuzzy and not working as it ought to.  But one thing he did know, and that was the dagger was too dangerous to be left unguarded.  "The dagger . . .where is it?" he gasped, coughing. 

"Destroyed.  Harry destroyed it." Grace said, helping him sit up so he did not choke and handing him a large handkerchief.

The professor coughed deeply for several minutes, unable to clear his throat of the mucus gathered there. At last he managed to draw a breath and say, "Good. Harry, where is he?" He looked about the room for the boy, but the only occupants were Grace and her son. "He was not . . .himself . . ." Even in his weakened state, Severus was careful not to reveal too much, his innate caution as a spy bidding him to hold his tongue.

"Jace, fetch Harry." Grace ordered, laying a hand upon Severus's forehead. "Tell him his mentor is awake and wishes to see him.  Perhaps he lost his way and is still looking for the study, though how that could be possible in such a small house . . ." She trailed off as the professor's temperature registered.  "Merlin! You have a very high fever, Severus, probably due to the damage to your magical reserves. Spell shock, most likely."

Jace left to find Harry, leaving his mother alone with the very ill wizard. 

Severus's mouth twisted.  "Yes . . .need a potion . . ." He began to shiver violently, his teeth chattering. "So tired . . .never been this tired . . ."

"Don't sleep yet," Grace said, summoning three potions to her.  "You need to take these."

The black eyes eyed the vial suspiciously, and she told them what they were before holding them to his mouth.  "Fever Reducer, a Magic Replenishing Elixir, and a Lung Decongestant."

It was all Severus could do to remain coherent enough to drink the drafts, afterwards he lay back upon the pillows, utterly exhausted.  "Harry . . ." was the last word he uttered before falling into a fevered sleep.

Grace shook her head, irritated at the boy, but she gently brushed Severus's hair back from his forehead before whispering, "Rest now, professor. Sleep will do you good."

Just then, Jace reappeared with Harry, who admitted sheepishly that he had gotten a bit turned around. The boy came immediately to stand beside his mentor. "How is he? Was there any . . .permanent damage?"

"I don't know for sure, Harry." Grace said gently. "That's not so easy to tell right now. He's still weak and sick from the dark magic, I can only tell that when he starts to recover. He woke briefly and I told him where he was and he asked for you, but he fell asleep before you returned."

"When will he wake up again?"

"He should sleep for several hours at least. I gave him several potions, including a Magical Replenisher, and that one always makes you sleep, since sleep is the best way to restore your magical reserves and core." She laid a hand gently upon Harry's shoulder.  "He is a strong man, Harry. A fighter. He'll pull through if anyone can."

Harry nodded.  "I know. He's the strongest man I know." He reached out tentatively and touched Severus's hand, which was lying atop the sheet.  "And the bravest." He squeezed the long fingers for a brief instant before drawing away.

Grace examined the young wizard closely, noting the dark circles under Harry's eyes and the drawn cheeks and air of exhaustion. "You ought to sleep too, child.  You are exhausted, fighting that dagger was no easy task."

Harry nodded blearily, only then realizing that he was barely able to stand upon his feet. 

"Perhaps you ought to drink a mug of broth with some bread and then have a bit of rest," suggested the enchantress, and the tone of her voice made it plain that it was more command than suggestion.

Harry was too exhausted emotionally and physically to put up a fight, and he simply allowed Grace to steer him into the kitchen, ate the chicken broth infused with a few drops of Magic Replenisher and some soft white bread, and then Jace helped him down the hall and into bed. 

He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, and Grace spelled pajamas on him and removed his shoes, tucking a soft green afghan about him a moment later.  Poor child. I think destroying that dagger was the least of your worries, strange as that may sound. She turned and left the room.  "Jace, I need you to gather some more herbs for me from the garden. Feverfew, marigolds, rowan bark, amleothoria flowers . . ."

"For the potions, right?" her intuitive son guessed.

"Correct.  Hurry now. I'll have just enough time to brew a new batch of Fever Reducer before they wake." Grace urged.

Jace departed at run for the garden, a basket levitating itself and floating along after him.

* * * * * *

 Harry awoke several hours later feeling much better for his long nap.  He went and took a long hot shower and dressed in clean clothes then went into the kitchen to see if there were something around he could eat, for he was suddenly ravenous. He found Jasper and Jilly in the kitchen, Jasper was giving Jilly lunch, which looked to be tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Harry found himself smiling at the simple meal, one that his aunt always used to make for Dudley when the weather turned cold and nippy. Harry had always managed to sneak a few spoonfuls out of the pot when Petunia's back was turned and snitch a few crusts of a sandwich too, since Dudley always ate three of them and cut the crusts off because he hated them. 

"Hi, Hawwy!" Jilly greeted as soon as he had entered the room, she was holding a quarter of a grilled cheese sandwich in one hand, it was cut in a triangle. "You was sleepin' a long time. Wanna have lunch?" She bit into her sandwich to illustrate the fact.

Harry smiled at her. There was something about the little girl that always made him feel good.  "Yeah.  What are you having?" he asked, coming over to sit down next to her.

"I's havin' grilled cheese n' t'mato soup," she informed him, but it came out garbled because she attempted to talk with the grilled cheese in her mouth, sounding more like, "I sh ambmf grmfud matomoof."

"Jilly, don't talk with your mouth full," Jasper reprimanded softly.  "Hello, Harry. Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?"

"Yes, si-Jasper," he caught himself before he said sir again.  "I was more tired than I thought."

"Yes, I would imagine so, given what you had been doing. Destroying the Dagger of Discord was no mean feat." The elder wizard said, approval in his tone.

"I couldn't have done it without Hedwig, Grace, and Jace," Harry said modestly.  He lowered his eyes to the table and said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it before, but . . ."

"Harry, you do not have to reveal everything to me, you are a guest in my home, and I would never demand an accounting of you or that you tell me information you wish to keep private," Jasper said seriously. "Privacy is paramount in a reader's household." He set a large bowl of soup, a grilled cheese sandwich, oyster crackers, and a glass of pumpkin juice down in front of Harry.  "Grace tells me Professor Snape is awake, and though weak and sick, should eventually recover from the dagger's curse. That is wonderful news, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'm glad," Harry said sincerely.  "He's sleeping still, but then he needs to ‘cause his magical reserves were drained away to almost nothing." He had gone in to check upon Severus after his shower and found the professor still asleep, though he was tossing and turning a little. Harry had ran a cool wet cloth over his face that he found sitting beside the professor's bedside on a small table and after that Severus seemed to relax.

"Aye, so Grace told me.  Rest is the best medicine for that." Jasper said knowingly.  "I'd wager you're starving after your own ordeal, so eat up, don't be shy. My soup's not bad and Jace always says I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich." He floated a bowl of soup and a sandwich over to his place at the table, as well as glass of what looked like wine.

"Mmm, ‘licious!" Jilly added, having finished what was in her mouth and eating some soup with her little spoon. 

Harry chuckled at the little girl's attempt to use big words and bit into his own sandwich, it was incredible, toasted just right and melted perfectly on the inside.

"You mean delicious," Jasper corrected his daughter.

Jilly frowned. "I knows that, Daddy. Love grilled cheese!" she took another bite of her sandwich, not caring that the cheese was smeared all over her face.

"Jilly, you are such an imp!" Jasper sighed, then he reached over to wipe her face with a napkin.

Harry hid a grin at the way father and daughter acted, then said, "She is right, you know. This is the best grilled cheese I've ever eaten."

Jasper looked pleased and began to eat his own sandwich.

"Where's Jace?" Harry asked after he had finished off his sandwich and most of his soup.

"Down in the lab helping Grace brew.  They were making a Fever Reducer when I sent some food to them." Jasper answered promptly.  He tilted his head as if listening, then said, "They should be nearly finished."

"Can you . . .hear them wherever they are?" Harry asked, curious about reader abilities.

"Not always. Our communication is limited to about ten miles and then I can't send to them.  But here, inside the house, I can sense their general whereabouts and send to them without a problem, unless they're shielding fully. That was why I invented the Amulets of Communication in the beginning, so I could speak with Grace and Jace even when they were away from the village." He tapped the pendant he wore. "This is the original amulet I made. Grace wears its twin around her neck. I have another, made of malachite, that Jace wears. But he usually wears that when he's away at school, so he can talk to me if he needs to and doesn't need to waste time writing letters. Especially if it's an emergency."

"It's too bad more people don't have one. I'll bet it's twenty times quicker than owl post," Harry remarked, though he felt disloyal to Hedwig admitting that. 

"Yes, it's almost as quick as a reader sending.  But few wizards can afford them, I have to charge them a rather steep price because they're time consuming to make and the Ministry still hasn't granted my patent, which means I only sell them to those I think are trustworthy and won't attempt to steal my invention. My friends here in the village all have them and mine is attuned to them. So in case of an emergency, we can all contact each other and come and help, if necessary. Not that anything much happens here, it's a pretty quiet place, thank Merlin.  Still, it doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"That makes sense. Could a Death Eater find his way here?" Harry asked uneasily. He knew that while they might have been driven away temporarily, they were still out there, watching and waiting their chance to strike again.

"Yes, if they searched long enough, but the village is warded and it would take some pretty strong spellwork to break the wards and locate you. We readers are good at hiding things. Comes from having to hide ourselves centuries ago, when we were persecuted," Jasper explained.

Harry was relieved to hear that, he had been half afraid that a Death Eater or two would be showing up any day now, especially since the dagger had been destroyed.  Could Voldemort sense the destruction of the Horcruxes? Harry wondered. He thought about it for a moment, then supposed not, since when he had been resurrected in the graveyard, he had not displayed any kind of knowledge that the diary had been destroyed. 

He finished his soup and Jasper gave him seconds without being asked. 

Jilly looked over at him as he started on his second helping and said, "You like it, Hawwy?"

"It's great, Jilly."

"Dad makes the best tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches," Jace stated proudly, coming into the kitchen and snatching another off the spell-warmed plate in the middle of the table.

"Learned from my mum.  Now she could cook, she was a Muggle, and my dad always said she was magic in the kitchen.  He once entered her in a magical bake-off contest without her knowing about it, sometimes the witches and wizards compete to see which one has the better spells for recipes, they make something with a spell and let a bunch of people taste it that are at the competition and then everyone votes. So he put Mum's chocolate layer cake up there and put his name on it and it won. Afterwards, he admitted his wife had made it, and when the judges asked to see the spell she had used, he laughed and told them she was a Muggle and the cake was made from scratch, without magic.  He said those judges nearly passed out, they were so shocked. But they let my mother keep the first prize ribbon."

"And the local wizards ever after called Mandy Witherspoon the Spell-less Wonder," Grace said, laughing.

Harry managed a smile at that, then asked the enchantress what potions she was brewing for Severus.  When Grace told him, he offered to help as well.  "I've brewed all of them except for the Magic Replenisher, and I'm sure I could brew that too, if I watch you at least once. I'm a potions apprentice, and it's only fair I brew the potions for Severus, since it's my fault he's like this."

"If you wish to observe me making the Magic Replenisher, you may. I shall begin brewing that tomorrow. In the meantime, I think I will need another batch of Lung Decongestant."

"I'll get started right away," Harry said, and leaped to his feet and practically bolted down to the lab.

Grace shook her head. "Poor child, he is feeling so guilty over his actions."

"Perhaps brewing the potions will help him though," Jasper mused.

"Hawwy sad," Jilly added.  "Needs a special hug."

"Later, Jilly," Jace said.  "Should I go and help, Mum?"

"Not just yet, Jace. I think he wishes to be left alone," Grace said wisely. "Why don't you go flying?"

"Me too! Me too, Jace!" Jilly cried, looking all pathetic.

Jace groaned good-naturedly, but then agreed to take Jilly up on his broom for about fifteen minutes, and the little girl squealed and hugged him, projecting her happiness at him and making him grin and toss her up into the air.

But in another room of the house, Severus whimpered and tossed uneasily in his sleep, as old nightmares returned to plague him.

* * * * * *

Harry remained in the lab, brewing the Lung Decongestant, which was not a very complicated potion, nothing like the Curse Dissolving Elixir, but it was time consuming, needing to steep for hours before full potency was reached.  He had reached the second stage in the brewing process before Jace came down to call him for dinner.

"The professor woke up again while you were down here and asked for you, but when I told him you were brewing he said to leave you be and fell back asleep. Sorry, I should have gotten you sooner."

"That's all right, Jace. Severus understands, and I'll talk to him tomorrow when he wakes up," Harry said glibly, not revealing how relieved he was that Severus had fallen asleep, so this way he didn't have to speak to his mentor about what he had done. The only reason he's asking about me is so he can tell me to leave probably. I broke every rule in my articles of apprenticeship when I tried to kill him, after all.

He would try and put off the inevitable confrontation as long as possible, he decided. Brewing potions was a brilliant excuse and it also gave him an outlet for assuaging a little of his guilt. But he still felt terrible and he couldn't bear to face Severus right then.

After dinner, he went back down to the lab and finished the potion off, bottled it and brought it back up to show Grace.

That was when he learned that Severus was delirious and didn't recognize anyone, he kept thinking he was back at Hogwarts teaching and trying to get up and check all the students' cauldrons.  Jace tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't stop trying to get up, and Grace thought about restraining him until Harry held came over and placed his hands on his shoulders and said firmly, "Severus, I'll teach your classes. It's Harry, don't worry about it, I can teach them, okay?"

" . . .first years need to brew a Boil Cure, second years a Friendship Draft, make sure all the ingredients are labeled . . ." Snape whispered, his eyes glassy.

"I will. Now go to sleep, Sev. Just . . .go to sleep."

The professor calmed then.  "Hot . . .thirsty . . ."

Harry gave him cool water and a Fever Reducer and after that the professor lapsed back into the twilight realm between sleep and dreams once more.

"His fever is dangerously high," Grace said worriedly. "I hope this next round of potions has a better effect, otherwise I might just have to put him in an ice water bath."

"He did that to me once, when I was sick," Harry said. "It worked." He dragged over a chair and sat down. "I'll watch him for part of the night, Grace. It's the least I can do."

"But surely you must be tired, Harry-" she began.

"Please, Grace. I need to be here, just in case . . .I'll be fine."

"Very well. But call me if his fever spikes or he gets too much for you to handle."

"All right."

Then the Witherspoons left for bed, and Harry settled in for the night in the armchair.  Well, Sev, you did this for me when I was sick that time in Calais, and a few other times before that too. Turnabout's fair play, right?

He spent the night beside his mentor, wiping down his  face and neck with a cool cloth, soothing him when he trembled and cried out from the nightmares that he wandered in, holding his hand and whispering, "It's all right, Sev. I'm here. You're not alone."

Several times Severus opened his eyes and looked at him, but he was not awake, merely delirious and so did not recognize Harry.  At times during the long night, Severus called repeatedly for someone named Thea, pleading with her not to forget him and other times to go away, that he was not worth her time.  " . . .you don't know the truth of what I am . . .and I can't tell you . . .leave me, it's for the best, can't you see . . ." he cried, and his voice was sharp with anguish.

Harry listened, mute with sorrow and trying to understand who Severus was talking about, and then he knew. "Dear sweet Merlin! It's that girl, the one he left behind all those years ago.  He still misses her."

"Thea . . .Thea . . .sorry . . .so sorry . . .Lily, forgive me . . ."

"Shhh. It's okay. She knows, Sev. She understands." Harry murmured, not knowing what else to say to ease his mentor's tormented soul. It nearly broke his heart to see the proud wizard reduced to this . . .lost in a world of nightmares, begging for absolution from people who were dead and gone.  So much anguish for one lifetime.  Harry bowed his head to hide his tears. Sev, I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry for hurting you and sorry for putting you through this hell.

He placed another cool cloth over the Potion Master's forehead and Severus lapsed back into sleep at the cool touch. 

Harry watched the man sleeping for a good twenty minutes before he allowed his eyes to close. Just going to take a nap for twenty minutes, that's all . . .

When he opened his eyes it was morning and Severus was still feverish.

* * * * * *

For three days Severus wandered in and out of nightmares, his fever soaring up and down, but never breaking.  At times he was half awake, enough to know that he was somewhere in one of his student's homes, and being taken care of, but most times he remained lost within his mind, a prisoner of his memories.  Grace would have given him Dreamless Sleep, but it was too dangerous to dose him with that with such a high fever, it could react badly and cause the patient to fall into a coma.  So she gave him mild Sleeping Drafts, enough to make him sleep comfortably for a few hours, but once they wore off, the nightmares returned with a vengeance.

All of them took turns sitting by his bedside, dosing him with potions and Cooling Charms, but it was Harry who was there most often, and when he wasn't he was down in the lab, brewing more potions.  His guilt drove him to spend more and more time there, brewing stronger drafts of Fever Reducers and Lung Decongestants to combat the persistent cough that the Potions Master had developed that refused to leave and which they feared might turn into bronchitis or worse. 

The third night, Harry stumbled upstairs to bed around midnight, so tired he could hardly see straight and kept bumping into walls.  He fell asleep right after taking off his robe and shoes, dead to the world, forgetting that he should have gone to check on Severus, as he had insisted on night watch.

* * * * * *

He alternately froze and burned, inside he was cold as ice, but on the outside his skin burned like fire, as he watched helplessly as Voldemort ordered the children burned alive.  Behind his mask he wept and longed to turn and curse the madman who deemed that innocent children should die for the crime of being born ordinary and without magic. No! Not the children! Don't hurt them! His mind shrieked over and over as the flames licked slowly up the pyre and their frightened sobs turned to howls of agony.

Helpless, he watched, while his soul shriveled in horror and he vowed that someday they would pay, all of them, for hurting the children, one of whom was only two.

"No! Not the children!"

Then he was on the ground, and Harry was standing over him with a golden dagger, glaring at him with hate-filled ruby red eyes, whose face shifted to Voldemort, who smiled and thrust the dagger into his chest.  "Who will save your precious children now, Severus Snape?"

He woke with the sound of maddened laughter and the screams of dying children still ringing in his ears. As he opened his eyes, he found he was looking into a pair of brilliant emerald ones, that he first thought were Harry's, until he felt a small hand patting his cheek.

"It's okay. Don't be a'scared."

I'm dreaming again. Because that's the only explanation for a little girl being here beside me. He rubbed his eyes, hoping the phantom child, the ghost of one he had failed to save, would vanish.

But she remained right where she was, peering down at him. "You is sad and hurt, like Hawwy," she told him softly. "But I can make you feel better."

Before he could say anything, she had crawled into his lap, reached her small arms up, and hugged him about the neck, laying her head on his shoulder.

He froze. He, Severus Snape, the dreaded bat of the dungeons, now had a little girl cuddled in his lap. Hugging him. Her little face was buried in his shoulder, for Merlin's sake! This couldn't be happening!

"What are you . . .how . . .?"

"You needs a hug, ‘fessor Sevvy," Jilly told him, at least she thought that was the man's name, she had heard Harry and her brother call him that. "Bad," she added, as sharp feelings of pain and terror and surprise flowed into her, as she absorbed what he was feeling.

"I . . .do?"

"Uh huh." She clutched him tighter. "You is sad an' upset. Lots and lots." Then she began to cry, unable to handle the depth of his pain any other way.

"No . . .oh no . . .don't . . ." he gasped, not knowing what to do. Why is she crying? See, now you've scared her, Severus. Tobias was right, you really do have a face that makes children cry. Look at her, she's shaking like a leaf. The child was sobbing softly into his shoulder, but she refused to release him, her arms were wound about his neck like a noose. Awkwardly, he put an arm about her. "There now . . .don't cry . . .I . . .I didn't mean to frighten you . . ." He patted her back, wondering anew if this wasn't simply another crazy dream.  But he didn't feel like he was dreaming. He was nearly certain this was real.

Even through the pain and fear she had absorbed unwittingly, Jilly sensed his confusion, and all at once she sat up, tears still running down her cheeks, and said, "No, I is not ‘fraid of you. You is sick, not scary. But I feel you here," she tapped her chest. "It hurts. You hurt." She placed a hand on his chest.

He was shocked and horrified. "You can feel what I feel? Great Merlin!" No child should ever feel what I'm feeling, he thought frantically, and went to reinforce his Occlumency shields, only to discover they were already up and at full strength. And yet she could still feel him. How is that possible? My shields . . .they're not working! He probed at one, discovering they were indeed active. Yet he could not block her out.

At a loss, he stared at her, this adorable cherub nestled in his arms and asked, "What's your name?"

"I Jilly," she murmured. "You is ‘fessor Sevvy, Jace says so."

Professor . . .Sevvy??!! Merlin have mercy. "Ah, that's Professor Snape."

She smiled angelically. "Hawwy calls you Sevvy."

"He does?"

"Yup. He called you that b'fore. I heared him."

"You mean you heard him," Severus corrected automatically.  How come I never heard him? On second thought, he better never call me that while I'm awake! Of all the cheek.

"S'what I said." Then she threw her arms about him again. "I like you. Don't be sad, Sevvy."

He opened his mouth to tell her to stop hugging him, damn it, he was a professor and he didn't need hugs, he was a grown man, and no little child should be hugging him this way, it was damn embarrassing, but then he began to feel a wondrous sort of feeling, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

It was joy. Pure unadulterated joy.

It flowed from the child into him in a brilliant wave of warmth, and it curled about his heart like a warm fuzzy blanket, insulating him from all of the awful memories and the pain they brought with them. Voldemort's laughter was banished, sent wailing into a black void, and the screams of the dying children could no longer be heard.

For the first time since the dagger had struck him down, or even before that, he was truly at peace.

"D'you feel better?"

"Yes . . .I really do," he mumbled. "How are you doing that, Jilly?"

The little girl shrugged and whispered in his ear, "Dunno."

What an extraordinary child, he thought, and for several moments there was no sound in the room save for the ticking of the clock upon the nightstand and the soft hush of their breathing.

Snape glanced at the clock. 3 AM and I'm sitting here with a little girl who can read my emotions like a book on my lap.

He knew he should be feeling irritable and grouchy, he was feverish and sick and he hated feeling so vulnerable and out of control.  But all he felt right then was a sort of peaceful contentment, as if he'd been dosed with a Euphoria Draft.  No, better than a Euphoria Draft, for that only affected the mind, but he felt this happiness all the way through to his soul, and slowly the cracks and tears in it began to mend.

He felt so good that he almost dozed off, Jilly snuggled in his arms, when he heard a soft voice calling, "Jillian Elise Witherspoon, where have you gotten to?"

A rather harried Grace stuck her head into Snape's room, her hair tumbling down across her shoulders, a blue wrap thrown hastily over her silvery silken nightgown. "Professor, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'm-oh Jilly, there you are!" she exclaimed upon catching sight of her wayward offspring. "What are you doing in Severus's room? I'm so sorry, professor, did she wake you?"

Jilly stirred, lifted her head and replied, "I not wake him, Mummy. He waked me. With a bad dream. I felt him."

"Merlin's wand! You mean you-"

"I am afraid my nightmare disturbed her rest, Mrs. Witherspoon," Severus began apologetically.

"Grace."

"I woke and found her sitting beside me and she was most insistent upon-" he coughed uncomfortably. "-reassuring me. She climbed into my lap and . . .hugged me."

"Oh, dear!" Grace put a hand to her mouth, her lips quivering.  "Jilly loves giving hugs to people who are . . .sad or upset."

"He needed one, Mum. Real bad."

"Jilly, what have I told you about hugging strangers?"

"But he not a stranger, Mum.  I know his name. He ‘fessor Sevvy, Jace's teacher, and he is stayin' here, in my house."

"She is right," Severus conceded, a wry half-smile creeping over his face.  "Frankly I'm surprised she wants to be near me after I scared her with my nightmare." He quickly told Grace about Jilly crying after she had hugged him. "I did try to shield my mind, I'm a strong Occlumens, but for some reason she managed to slip past my shields." Now he sounded annoyed, for he was no novice, and he did not like it when a mere child could show him up.

"Your Occlumency shields won't keep out an empath of her Talent, I'm afraid. Your shields are meant to mask thoughts and memories, not emotions. Jilly's gift works at a totally different level. Sometimes even my reader shields, which are layered, can't keep her out." Grace said, a note of pride in her voice. "I apologize for her intrusion, at this stage she can't really control her gift and just picks up whatever emotions are uppermost in your mind and senses very strong ones instinctively."

"That is perfectly understandable, she is so young she can't maintain her shields for long.  But she will develop control eventually, when she is older."

"Thank you for understanding, Severus. That's why we don't tend to take her in large crowd, she becomes overwhelmed and most wizards consider a child of her Talent unfit to mingle in proper society."

"Ridiculous!" The Potions Master scowled.  "Such attitudes need to be eradicated. Not fit for proper society! Humph! I have known several purebloods of impeccable lineage that are not fit to mingle with pigs in a wallow, much less people."

Grace nodded.  "People fear the different. That is a fact we readers learned all too well."

"They always have and they always will. Idiots!" Snape said cynically. "I . . .am not used to small children myself, but even I know better than to label such an innocent little one that way." It seemed to him a crime to fear this beautiful child, who was now asleep upon his shoulder, her thumb in her mouth.  So young, so innocent, like those other children. I pray she will never know their fate.  A sudden surge of protectiveness flowed through him then.

"Once you are touched by an empath, you are never the same," Grace said, and their eyes met in a shared understanding.

"She is an extraordinary child," Severus nodded, shifting slightly.

"She is a blessing," her mother agreed. "Shall I put her to bed? You must be tired, holding her so long."

Severus did not reply, he found he was strangely reluctant to let her go.

Grace hid a knowing grin, then cast a quick diagnostic over him. The results astonished her. "Well, it seems you have finally conquered your fever, thank goodness, and your lungs are clearing up too. You are much improved from yesterday."

"My magic is slowly returning as well," Severus told her.

"You have made a most valiant recovery," Grace declared, pleased. "A few more days and you should be up and about. In a week you should be totally restored magically." She did not mention his emotional state, for she had a feeling her daughter might be able to help with that more than anyone could have expected. "You have an amazing constitution. Another wizard might well have died from the dagger's curse."

"Yes, I am aware of that. I have inherited my ancestors' hearty Yorkshire constitution.  I am not done in so easily as most." Severus stated simply.

"Aye, and well I know it. We of the north are a hearty breed." Grace said, then she gently lifted Jilly into her arms. "Time to put this lass to bed. You need your rest, Mr. Snape, Yorkshire constitution notwithstanding." She waved her hand and two potions popped up on the nightstand. "Take those, please."

He picked one up, recalling something Jace had said earlier.  "Harry brewed these." He took the first one in one swallow, grimacing at the taste. The Magic Replenisher was tasteless, however, and he got that down much easier.

Grace handed him a cup of cool water and then said, "He did indeed. Insisted upon it, even when I tried to help him. Brewed every batch himself. You taught him well, Severus. He has a good heart, despite what the dagger caused him to do. You mustn't blame him, you know. Few are there that can resist the Dagger of Discord's possession."

Severus stiffened. "Possession? The bloody dagger possessed him. That's why he tried to . . kill me." It pained him to speak those words, to recall the look of hatred upon Harry's face, but better possession than nursing an insane grudge or hatred against him.  How did I miss that? Why didn't he let me know?

"He didn't mean to attack you, the dagger was controlling his mind through his subconscious," Grace began, seeing a cloud darken the Potion Master's face.

"I am aware what possession means, madam," Severus said stiffly. "I shall discuss this with him tomorrow."

"Professor, don't be too harsh with him.  He is very upset about it, I believe he thinks you won't understand and . . .dismiss him in anger. If you can, allow him to explain before you issue any ultimatums. Not that it's any of my business, he is your apprentice and ward, after all . . ."

"I shall take your words under advisement," Severus said, yawning. "Right now I think I shall sleep, I am not fit to hold a conversation with myself, much less my ward." The potions he had taken worked quickly and he had just enough time to settle himself upon his pillow before drifting away into dreamland.

"Sleep well, professor," Grace murmured and pulled the covers back over him so he would not become chilled. Even in summer, the moor could become cold. She hoped all would go well between the Potions Master and his ward and they could mend their broken relationship.

Then she departed as silently as she had come, to put her youngest to bed and then return to her own, to snooze until eight o'clock, when she would rise and prepare breakfast for her family and her guests.