Severus hated his Death Eater robes. They were scratchy. It really was the least of his problems at the moment but worrying about such a trivial concern was reassuring. Usually Dumbledore took the long walk to the end of the grounds with him. He always talked about candy, or students, or a potions article he read while Severus walked silently beside him. After the meeting was over, he would always find Fawkes perched on the Hogwarts gate, waiting patiently to accompany him back to the castle. More than once, Severus had been unable to make the long walk up and the bird had flown off to get the headmaster.

Voldemort knew Dumbledore kept a close eye on Severus. He especially enjoyed sending Severus back to Hogwarts bloodied and injured, forcing Dumbledore to both fix Severus up and tear himself apart with guilt. It worked well. After one of the first Death Eater meetings, Dumbledore had stopped Severus at the gate and, in an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty and emotion, told Severus to accompany him back to the castle, that they would find a way to win the war without a spy. Severus had wordlessly removed the gentle, wrinkled hand from his forearm, walked to the apparition point and disaparated, leaving Dumbledore’s pain-riddled face in his wake.

Severus had been more touched than he would admit even to himself at the headmaster’s hesitation. For a moment it felt like Severus mattered more than the war. It wasn’t true of course, no one person mattered more than the lives of many. From then on though, Severus knew that he mattered to Dumbledore, that he was cared for, loved even. Severus understood then, for the first time, what Dumbledore meant when he said that love was the most powerful magic. While Lily’s death had changed Severus’ allegiance, Dumbledore’s love had gained Severus’ complete loyalty. Something Voldemort could not expect even from his most enthusiastic Death Eaters.

Severus scoffed at the headmater’s need to provide him an escort to the apparition point, protested against the frequent invitations to tea and largely shunned Dumbledore’s attempts to comfort and console him; but he loved Dumbledore just as heartily and was soothed by the mere knowledge of his presence at Hogwarts. Now, walking to the apparation point, fresh after seeing Lily’s eyes stare at his left arm in horror, Severus felt more alone than ever.

Severus lifted the latch on the gate and pushed open the heavy door. Without a look back to the castle, Severus placed a finger on his arm and disapparated.

It was odd, where he landed. A forest. The mulch path Severus was standing on was soggy from the rain and darkened by the many large trees that lined it. Severus was alone. Severus looked around and gripped his wand. It never boded well to be summoned alone.

“Severus.” Voldemort said silkily, approaching him with a cold smile. Severus bowed his head reverently.

“My lord.” Severus could feel Voldemort enter his head. He wasn’t worried his Occlumency shields wouldn’t hold, Voldemort was too arrogant to give the thoughts of others much consideration, but he was concerned that it happened so quickly. He knew the fear coming off of him would please the Dark Lord and didn’t bother to shove it back down. There were more important things to hide.

“The boy.” Voldemort said slowly, starting to circle Severus slowly. “The boy has turned into quite an Occlumens.” As always, Severus chose not to speak. It was best to limit the potential to say the wrong thing and anger the Dark Lord.

“You have been teaching him have you not?” Voldemort was beginning to slowly circle Severus. Only experience prevented fear from completely robbing him of his powers of speech.

“Yes my lord.” Severus replied. Voldemort knew this. Severus had told him long ago on Dumbledore’s orders. Voldemort hadn’t been worried about the challenge of breaking through the defenses of a fifteen year old boy and had instructed Severus to teach him well-enough that Dumbledore would not be suspicious. Was it possible Severus had done his job too well?

“He does well.” Voldemort commented again, his voice heavy with suspicion.

“Surely my lord, a legilimens of your power…” The Dark Lord thrashed his wand angrily at Severus. Severus’ face burned, blood trickled into his lips. If he didn’t know he was in trouble before, he knew it now. Severus felt his heart start to speed up.

“Do not compare my abilities to that talentless, half-blood child!” The Dark Lord exclaimed. Severus bowed his head slavishly. Voldemort seemed to gain a hold on himself.

“It is not Potter’s occlumency skills that interest me Severus. It is yours.” Voldemort stopped right in front of Severus’ face. Inches separated them. Severus blinked.

“Mine my lord?” Severus replied, feigning confusion, buying himself more time. He had rehearsed these conversations with Dumbledore repeatedly. Voledmort didn’t move but gave a horrible, stretched smile.

“The boy is so competent after only a few months of lessons. It makes me wonder if I have truly tested how talented your Occlumency skills are.” Voldemort whispered softly. Severus recognized this tone as his most dangerous.

“Crucio.” Voldemort said, his tone was casual, unaffected as Severus collapsed on his knees. “I am told prolonged exposure to pain will weaken an Occlumens.”

It felt like a fire had been lit in Severus’ bones. Pain started from the inside and worked its way out to his skin. But Severus was prepared for this. He had felt this fire before and he would feel it again. With practiced ease, he focused on his Occlumency shields and nothing else, not his own pain, not his fear and not the hope that the pain might stop.

xXx

“Harry I don’t know about this.” Hermione whispered warily. Ron nodded in agreement, looking green. They were shut in the Charms classroom. With OWLs, NEWTs and finals approaching, the Gryffindor common room was always too full to talk, but the Professors were happy to leave their classrooms unlocked so students could prepare for the practical portion of their exams..

“Even Dobby thinks this is stupid Harry, and he thinks your brilliant. There’s got to be another way.” Ron added looking down at the shaking elf. It was only appreciation that Ron had forgiven Harry so quickly for breaking his nose earlier that stopped Harry from yelling at him.

“There is no one from the Order at Hogwarts. We can’t get anyone to help us.” Harry reiterated firmly. Hermione twisted her hands in anticipation but nodded.

“Harry’s right Ron. Someone needs to check-up on him.” Hermione said, seemingly stiffening her resolve. It had been over eight hours since Professor Snape had left his office and despite Harry, Ron and Hermione’s repeated knocks on his door, they had not seen him since. As there were no Order members to check on him, Harry had convinced Dobby to apparate him in to Snape’s private quarters. The elf looked about as scared as Harry felt. If Snape found out and was not injured, Harry would certainly be turned in to potions ingredients.

“If I’m not back quickly, use my mirror to call Sirius.” Harry said to Ron who was holding the mirror fragment of his hands. Harry wrapped his Invisibility Cloak around himself and Dobby. With any luck, they would land in Snape’s living room, see him sitting there reading a book and apparate out before Snape could even consider that someone was in the room with him.

“Ready Dobby?”

“Yes Harry Potter. Dobby is ready sir.” Dobby said in a tone that suggested one could never be truly ready to invade Snape’s privacy.  Dobby took Harry’s hand in his long, green one and snapped his fingers.

Harry flew through the air at a pace that made his stomach flip over in protest. He had to grab Dobby’s shoulder to stop from falling when he landed hard on the grey carpet of Snape’s living room. It took Harry a second to get his bearings and then he found what he had been looking for.

Snape was not sitting on his chair reading a book. He was lying on the floor in a horrifying mix of blood and robes. For a terrible moment, Harry thought Snape was dead. The blood on the floor, the bluish-white face that was half-exposed as Snape lay, curled on his side all looked impossibly bad. But then Harry realized that he was hearing a sound like a toy being sucked up a vacuum, harsh and ratting and that sound was coming from Snape as he fought to draw in shallow, painful breaths.

“Oh no, oh no. oh no.” Dobby said over and over again rocking back in forth in a panic. Harry’s own hands were shaking as the hovered uncertainly over Snape’s body. Checking on Snape had seemed like a good idea but Harry hadn’t really thought through what he would do if he met a scene like this. He had an extremely limited knowledge of healing spells and realized belatedly that he should have brought Hermione with him. But Hermione wasn’t here; hopefully, in a few moments she would be informing Sirius that Harry needed help. Harry was on his own until then.

Four years of near-death experiences had given Harry the ability to pull himself together under stress. He took a deep breath and dug through all the medical knowledge he had gained through the American TV shows Aunt Petunia occasionally watched. The bleeding…there was too much blood…he needed to stop the bleeding.

“Dobby, help me roll him over.” Harry said urgently, pushing Snape on his back as Dobby helped to lower the body gently. Snape’s face tensed slightly at the movement but besides that there was no other indication he knew what was happening.

Harry almost wished he hadn’t rolled the body over. Snape’s mid-section was covered in deep, wide gashes that were still oozing blood. The shirt underneath the robe had been reduced to strings of useless fabric. Harry pushed them aside irritably.

“Ferula” Harry said, miraculously remembering the spell Lupin had used to conjure bandages for Ron’s broken leg years ago. A stack of white bandages appeared shot out of Harry’s wand onto the floor. Harry quickly gathered them and pressed them down hard on Snape’s stomach. Snape let out a strangled, shocked moan at the intrusion.

“No. No.” He muttered painfully. Snape’s body was shaking all over. Shock, Harry realized abruptly. Not that he knew anything about it. Blankets…in TV there were always blankets.

“Dobby can you warm him up?” Harry asked suddenly. Harry had never cast a warming charm on a person before. It was incredibly advanced magic and Harry didn’t think that this was the time to attempt it.

“Yes Dobby can.” Dobby said, seemingly relieved to be able to help. Dobby picked Snape’s hand up off of the ground and held it between his two green ones. Warm light seemed to radiate from their hands.

“Professor.” Harry said, shuffling to be closer to Snape’s head. Snape’s forehead was creased in a frown and his lips were wordlessly muttering something. “Professor? Can you hear me?” Harry said a little desperately. He was running out of ideas and debating running to go get a blood-replenisher or even Madame Pomfrey.

As if on cue, the fire flared green and Sirius, eyes drawn to Snape’s body and Harry’s bloody hands, stepped out. Without missing a beat, Sirius strode to Snape’s side, knelt down and waved his wand over him. The injuries on Snape’s body glowed a bluish white. Snape’s entire right arm glowed and Harry realized with horror that it was completely boneless.

Sirius worked with a grim calm, not even acknowledging Harry’s presence. He tapped his wand to the larger injuries and looked increasingly tight-lipped as he read the little pieces of paper that shot out the end of his wand.

“Dobby I need pain potions, blood replenishers and disinfecting potions…quickly.” Dobby nodded, dropped Snape’s hand snapped and disappeared. Without really thinking about it, Harry picked up the fallen hand and held it tightly in his own. Sirius gently removed the mess of bandages covering Snape’s still bleeding stomach and let out a slight hiss of empathy. He hesitated for a second than nodded, seeming to steel himself.

“Try to keep him calm Harry.” Sirius said, raising his wand. “This is usually done with pain potions but we don’t have time.” Wondering how he was supposed to keep an unconscious man calm. Harry nodded, still holding the limp, cold hand in his.

Sirius bent low over Snape’s stomach, concentrating hard. He gave his wand a complicated swish and muttered something that did not seem to be English. The large gaping wounds seemed to start to knit themselves together but it looked painful and grotesque, like the skin was being stretched. Snape cried out. Sirius’ mouth tightened, but he kept muttering.

“Professor?” Harry called again softly, seeing Snape’s eyes flutter. At Harry’s voice, Snape’s eyes immediately snapped open and locked onto Harry. The sight of Harry seemed to both petrify and surprise Snape in equal measure. He gripped Harry’s hand painfully hard and looked around wildly, clearly thinking they were somewhere dangerous.

“It’s ok sir.” Harry said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “We’re at Hogwart’s. Dobby is on his way with pain-reliever.” Whenever Harry was injured the first thing he wanted to know was when the pain was going to stop. Living or dying always took second place to that. Although there was still pain in Snape’s black eyes, the alarm seemed to die down. Sirius muttered another incantation over Snape’s thrashed stomach and Snape almost arched his back in pain and moaned, crushing Harry’s fingers with his grip.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” Sirius muttered, almost to himself. Sirius put the hand that wasn’t holding his wand on Snape’s leg and whispered over his stomach again. Snape’s eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.

Sirius was about to say something but Dobby appeared holding almost every healing potion in Hogwarts in a large bag.

“Here is the pain potions sir.” Dobby said, grabbing the top two potions. “And blood replenishers.” Harry noticed that Sirius shoulders seemed to drop several inches as he took them.

“Good work Dobby.” Sirius said taking the vials and moving to the other side of

Snape’s head. “Thanks for your help. You can go.” Dobby nodded, looking grateful to be able to leave, and disapparated.

“Severus, wake up.” Sirius said in a gentle tone of voice that, until now, had been reserved for Harry. Severus barely stirred as Sirius heaved him up into an almost sitting position against Sirius chest.

“Severus.” Sirius said again more sharply, lightly slapping Snape’s face.

“Just spell it in to him.” Harry said, feeling more disturbed than he wanted to admit at seeing Snape look like a ragdoll. Sirius shook his head.

“That is advanced healing magic Harry. Only Poppy or Dumbledore could do it.” Sirius said, casting a nervous glance at Snape. “Maybe we ought to get her down here.” As if to starve off such an idea, Snape’s eyes opened.

“Drink this, it’ll help.” Sirius said kindly, uncorking the pain reliever and holding it to Snape’s lips. It was a mark of how far gone Snape was that he both drank the potion without comment and didn’t seem at all concerned that he was propped against Sirius’ chest.

“Good.” Sirius said in a voice that reminded Harry of Hagrid feeding sick bowtruckles. “And this one.” Sirius uncorked one blood-replenisher after another until Harry saw spots of colour return to Snape’s cheeks. The distressed, rattled breathing was gone with the pain-relieving potions. Sirius too seemed to relax slightly. Then he frowned, looking at the long, thin slash on Snape’s face, easily the least severe of the injuries.

“Episkey.” Sirius said sharply, as though the wound had personally offended him. The cut sealed itself shut. With another wave of Sirius’ wand the blood vanished off of Snape’s face and exposed stomach. Sirius looked up at Harry.

“He’ll be alright.” Sirius said, taking in the worried look on Harry’s face. It made a rather odd image, Snape propped against Sirius’ chest like a sickly child. Sirius hadn’t let him back the ground even though all the potions were swallowed. His focus seemed to be on Harry now though. With the arm that wasn’t holding Snape to him, Sirius reached over and gently placed his hand on top of Harry’s hand that was still gripping Snape’s. His eyes were gentle with concern. Harry didn’t really encode he was holding Snape’s hand until the moment and he let it go, feeling slightly embarrassed.  

“You did well Harry.” Sirius soothed. “He’ll be alright. Let’s get him into bed.” Harry nodded numbly. Sirius lowered Snape back to the ground and flourished his wand. Snape’s body gently floated in the air. Unbidden, the memory of the first night Harry met Sirius came to his mind. The scene was so similar Snape suspended horribly before them, Sirius and Harry silently following behind. But Harry knew this time Sirius wouldn’t let Snape hit a dust-bunny let alone a stone wall. As they approached the bed, Sirius gave a complicated swirl of his wand. Snape rotated to be horizontal and was gently lowered on top of the covers.

“Harry, go grab the blanket from the living room.” Sirius whispered, lifting up Snape’s boneless arm and examining it carefully. Harry nodded and did what he was told.

“It’s alright Severus. Harry is ok.” Harry heard Sirius say reassuringly to Snape who was trying to sit up. Sirius’ was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Snape down with a firm hand.

“No, no, he’s -.” Snape’s voice had taken on a high worried tone that made Harry feel a little ashamed to be intruding. His legs kicked feebly in an attempt to throw off Sirius. Harry hesitated at the door. Surely, Snape would not want Harry to see him like this. But Sirius heard Harry and held a hand out for the blanket so Harry walked over and handed it to him.

Snapes eye’s locked on Harry’s and, instead of the scorn Harry was half-expecting, a million different emotions Harry couldn’t figure out flashed across his face.

“Harry.” Snape said softly. He abruptly stopped fighting Sirius’ efforts to hold him back on the bed. He stared at Harry and Harry stared back, unable to look away from the painful look of relief in Snape’s eyes.

“See everyone’s alright.” Sirius said, his usual carefree tone back. “We’re all just in need of a good sleep.”  Sirius continued more gently, spreading the blanket over Snape who had yet to look away from Harry even though his eyelids were drooping.

Snape was unable to keep his eyes open and, after a moment of looking between Harry and Sirius, he fell asleep. Sirius flicked his wand and a studded gold band wrapped itself around Snape’s wrist. The studs pulsed rhythmically and changed to a yellowish colour.

“Respiro” Sirius whispered and, with another flick, a bright, blue bubble extended over Snape’s mouth containing what Harry assumed to be oxygen.

Sirius turned his attention to Harry, surveying him critically. After a moment, his arm came up and secured itself around Harry’s shoulder, drawing him to Sirius’ side. Harry considered resisting, but allowed himself to be pulled close after a moment. Sirius’ solidness beside him felt warm, secure.

“You did a good job tonight.” Sirius said softly, rubbing a hand up and down Harry’s arm. It was taking all of Harry’s resolve to not bury his face in Sirius’ neck and bawl like a toddler so he just nodded shortly.

For about the millionth time since learning of Sirius’ existence, Harry wondered what it would have been like if Sirius had drawn his wand just a little faster that night 15 years ago and caught Pettigrew. He would have grown up with someone who loved him; someone who did things like put an arm around him when he was upset and bought him toy broomsticks. Harry couldn’t fathom that existence. It was so far from the one that he knew with the Dursleys.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” Sirius soothed, giving Harry’s shoulder a little squeeze. “I’ll stay with Snape.”

Harry shook his head, still remembering the Durselys. Even when he was little, they left him alone and scared when he was sick. As a child, Harry never more unloved and isolated than when he woke up crying and ill to find himself completely alone with no one who cared that he was hurting. Snape hadn’t left Harry to flounder alone after Voldemort blasted his mind apart. Despite the fact that Snape hated him as much, if not more, than the Dursleys, every time he woke up sick that night he had been taken care of and comforted. To leave Snape now seemed like the worst sort of disloyalty.

“No, I want to stay.” Harry replied firmly. Sirius sighed a little, but nodded in agreement. With a flash of his wand, the small, wooden chair by Snape’s dressing table had turned into a rather large couch. It took up almost the entire space between the bed and the dressing table. Both Harry and Sirius sunk into it gratefully.