MINDSCAPE - The Healing Journey by chrmisha
Summary: When an Occlumency lesson goes wrong, Snape learns more about Harry’s past than he ever wanted to—and it changes everything. But change doesn’t come easily, especially for two who have spent five years loathing each other’s very existence. Can Snape and Harry come to a mutual understanding of sorts to defeat their greatest enemy—themselves? Spring of 5th year, A/U. Completely written and posted in chapter installments.
Categories: Healer Snape, Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Hermione, Original Character
Snape Flavour: Snape is Angry, Canon Snape, Snape Comforts, Snape is Kind, Snape is Stern
Genres: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Injured!Harry, Snape-meets-Dursleys
Takes Place: 5th Year
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Physical Punishment Spanking, Neglect, Rape, Romance/Het, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 40 Completed: Yes Word count: 98424 Read: 234282 Published: 26 May 2017 Updated: 31 Oct 2017
Chapter 26 by chrmisha

“Harry,” Roland said, stepping toward him. “It is a pleasure to see you.”

Harry nodded, and held out his hand, searching blindly for Dr. Stanley’s.

Roland took it and shook Harry’s hand. “Dr. Marsha is here as well,” Roland said, guiding Harry’s hand to Marsha’s so they could shake hands as well.

“It is very interesting to be here,” Marsha commented. “And these must be your friends,” she said warmly.

Harry stepped to the side, still holding the doorframe with one hand.

“I’m Hermione Gr… Hermione,” she said, stopping herself giving her last name as Snape had instructed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Marsha said, shaking Hermione’s outstretched hand.

“And I’m Ron,” Ron said, holding out his hand as well.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Marsha said, shaking Ron’s hand.

“Yes, indeed,” Roland added. “Harry here is very lucky to have you.”

“We are more lucky to have him,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “getting in trouble wouldn’t be half as much fun without Harry. I mean…” Ron stammered, looking guiltily at Snape.

The Stanleys just laughed.

“Can I get anyone anythin’ ta drink other than tea?” Covey asked.

“I could go for a pumpkin juice,” Ron said.

“Ron,” Hermione gasped, “she wasn’t asking you! She was asking Dr. Stanley and Dr. Stanley.”

“Well, she wasn’t not asking us,” Ron complained. “She didn’t say: Dr. Stanley and Dr. Stanley, do only the two of you want something to drink?”

Snape found the bickering painful to listen to, but Harry had begun to smile at his friends and for that, Snape was grateful.

“Umm… just a glass of water?” Marsha asked. “You do have water, don’t you?”

“O’ course,” Covey laughed. “An’ fer ye?” she asked Roland.

“I wouldn’t mind trying something I’ve never had before,” he said.

“Aye, I will get somethin’ special fer ye, then.”

“I guess we should get going,” Hermione said. Looking to Snape, she said, “Can we stop by after dinner?”

“You may,” Snape replied. “If you prefer, you can have dinner here with Harry.”

“We can?” Ron asked.

“I believe I just said as much,” Snape responded.

“Great!” Ron said. “See you later, Harry.”

“Bye, Harry,” Hermione said, lightly touching Harry’s arm. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“I was thinking we could all sit at your table, Harry,” Snape said, practically getting stuck on Potter’s first name since he never used it. Perhaps it was time he started. “Would that be acceptable to you?”

The boy nodded.

“Do you need assistance finding a seat?” Snape asked.

“No thanks, I can manage,” Harry replied.

Snape watched as Potter turned in the doorway and then walked in a diagonal line to the table, counting his steps as he went and stopping within a foot of it. He then felt around for a chair, pulled it out, and sat down. Snape nodded in silent approval.

Covey came in levitating a tray full of drinks for everyone. “Butterbeer, Harry?” she asked.

“Thanks,” Harry said, holding out his hand for the bottle.

Covey placed it in his open palm. “I’ll sit next ta ye, aye?” Covey said, touching his shoulder as she sat. “An’ Professor Snape is sittin’ next ta me, ye ken?”

“I’m on your right, Harry,” Marsha said. “And Dr. Roland is right here next to me.”

Covey passed Marsha a gillywater and Roland a bottle of Rosemerta’s finest oak-matured mead. To Snape, Covey passed a cup of tea.

Speaking of tea, Snape looked around, noticing that Earl Grey was curled up on Potter’s pillow, fast asleep.

“Harry,” Covey said, “we spoke with the Stanleys before we arrived an’ they have a name fer what ye are experiencin’.”

“They do?” Harry asked, his head swiveling from left to right as he attempted to gaze where he thought they were sitting.

“We do,” Marsha said, touching Harry’s hand lightly to let him know where she was. “It’s called conversion disorder. It’s been around for a very long time, all the way back to ancient Egypt.”

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s something that sometimes happens to people when they receive a great shock. An emotional trauma or something extremely stressful for that person. If it’s too much for their mind to cope with, the mind shunts the overload into a physical ailment. A loss of vision in your case,” Marsha said. “Rather like giving the emotional trauma a different outlet until the mind is ready to deal with it.”

Snape watched Potter as the Stanleys gave him a moment to process what they’d said.

“But there is some good news, Harry,” Roland interjected. “Conversion disorder is relatively easy to treat, and the treatment is what we are already doing here, talking about your memories and your feelings. The good news is that, as you integrate your memories and deal with your feelings, the physical symptoms should resolve.”

“In other words,” Marsha said, “the blindness should only be temporary.”

“Really?” Harry said, his whole body seeming to relax in on itself.

Snape cleared his throat. “That is how it works for Muggles,” he clarified.

For a moment, the room was silent and Harry’s body tensed once more, reclaiming the hunched position it had been assuming.

“Harry,” Covey said, “we donna know if it works the same way fer witches and wizards, but I have nay reason ta think that it doesna, aye? Furthermore,” Covey continued, “I donna think this is the first time ye lost yer vision.”

“You don’t?” Harry asked, looking startled.

“Nay. Ye had a pretty serious head injury when ye were nine,” Covey said. “An’ I think ye were blind after that fer a bit, too. I donna know how long, but ye got yer vision back that time, aye? So I think you’ll get it back this time too, ye ken?”

“And this time,” Roland said, “we’ll all be here to help you.”

“Yes, we will,” Marsha said reassuringly.

“Every step o’ the way,” Covey said, covering Harry’s hand with hers and giving it a squeeze.


Harry awoke abruptly, his mouth open in a silent scream, his heart racing. He opened his eyes to complete darkness. Panicking, he sat up and looked around frantically but there was no light. There was no light. He was blind. He remembered now. Tears came unbidden as he lay back. He rolled over and punched his pillow. How could he be blind? The Stanleys had said it was temporary, but they were Muggles. What if Snape was right? What if it worked differently for wizards? A sob escaped Harry as he curled in on himself, hugging the pillow, wishing with all his might that just once his life could be easy.

When Harry next awoke, it was to the sound of humming and the feel of someone lightly running their fingers through his hair. Covey.

“’Lo,” Harry mumbled. He felt shaky and his pajamas were damp with sweat. “What time is it?”

“Tis still the middle o’ the night. Ye were havin’ a nightmare. I just came in ta make sure ye were all right, aye?”

Harry felt shame rush up his spine. “Sorry I woke you,” he muttered.

“Shhh,” she soothed. “Ye didna wake me. I was readin’.”

Harry half felt as though he should tell Covey she could stop stroking his head, while the other half of him wanted to soak up her touch.

“Looks like ye got yerself a new friend, aye?”

Harry felt Earl Grey, who was sprawled out on his chest, stretch one long front leg, the furry paw brushing his cheek, before the cat curled back up into a ball over his heart, purring contentedly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, stroking the cat affectionately. “I never had a cat before.”

“Aye, an’ he’s a good one.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Covey?” he asked, knowing the answer already but needing to hear it from somewhere outside his own head. “Do I have to remember what happened to me in order to see again?”

Covey’s hand stilled. “Honestly Harry, I donna know. I think that when yer mind is ready, ye’ll remember what ye need ta remember, ye ken?”

“And then I’ll be able to see again?”

Harry felt Covey card her fingers through his hair once more.

“Tis more than just yer mind an’ body, Harry. Yer magic has ta be ready too, aye? I think that when all three are ready, then ye will see again.”

Harry felt despair creep over him. “How long will that take?”

“As long as it takes,” a deep, male voice said. Snape. A shudder of fear went through Harry.

“Tis alright, Harry,” Covey said. “Sevvie willna hurt ye.”

Harry heard Snape sigh as a new weight settled on his mattress.

A hand came to rest on his ankle. “No, Harry, I will not hurt you. I know you’ve had abominable experiences with the adults in your life, and I regret that I myself have not always been kind to you. But you have my word that I will not physically harm you."

Harry wanted to say What about emotionally? but he didn’t have the courage. He tried to relax.

“Want ta talk about yer nightmare?” Covey asked.

“Not really,” Harry said, “but I suppose I should.” Harry took a deep breath. “It’s always the same lately. I only get bits and pieces. My uncle dragging me out of the cupboard by my ankles as I‘m trying to hold on so he can‘t get to me. Then he’s got me up against the wall and he’s choking me and I can’t breathe. And then…” Harry‘s words got clogged in his throat. “Then I am filled with terror and everything goes black. I know something really really bad is about to happen. And then I wake up.”

Covey’s hand had paused in the stroking of his hair once again. Harry imagined that Snape and Covey were silently communicating through glances he couldn’t see.

Finally, Snape spoke. “Is this the same memory as the flashback you had the other day in my office?”

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“I see,” Snape said.

“Harry, when that full memory comes back, I want ye ta know that we’ll be here fer ye, ye ken? Sevvie an’ I, and yer friends too, and the Stanleys, we’ll all be here fer ye. It willna be easy, but ye are strong, Harry, stronger than ye know. We’ll help ye through this, aye?”

Harry felt Snape squeeze his ankle in silent confirmation of his support as well.

“Okay,” Harry said.

Snape cleared his throat. “I’d like you to take some Dreamless Sleep potion. Your body and mind need restorative sleep to process everything you’ve been through, and to heal as well.”

“All right,” Harry said. He wouldn’t mind not having that dream again tonight. The foreboding tone of it made him edgy and restless.

“I have it right here, Harry,” Covey said.

Harry felt her tip his head up a bit and, as he raised his hand, she placed the vial in it. He drank it down in one long gulp. It wasn’t as bad tasting as most potions, and he felt sleepy almost at once.

“We’ll stay til ye fall asleep,” Covey said. “Yer safe here, Harry. We’ll keep ye safe. No one can hurt ye here.”

Harry drifted off to sleep, the feel of Covey’s hand stroking his head and Snape’s hand on his ankle more comforting and needed than he’d ever care to admit.


Covey took Snape’s hand and led him back to bed. “This willna be easy fer him.”

“These things never are,” Snape agreed.

“I think,” Covey said, as she slipped under the sheets and welcomed Snape into her arms, “that the blindness is symbolic.” She met his gaze. “He doesna want ta see that bad memory. Tis too traumatic.”

“You’re probably right,” Snape agreed, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

Covey shivered as Snape ran his fingers down her neck and over the swell of her breast.

“This time, though,” he said, eliciting a gasp from Covey as he caressed her nipple into a firm peak, “he won’t have to face it alone.”

“Aye,” Covey said, her lips meeting his as she rolled him onto his back, settling her weight atop him. “None of us will have ta face it alone.”

“Mmm,” Snape agreed, pulling Covey tighter against him and kissing her with the passion of a man running not only from his own demons, but from those of the boy sleeping in the room next door.


“Harry,” Hermione’s voice rang out. “We brought you breakfast!”

“Yeah,” Ron’s voice echoed. “Time to get up, mate.”

Harry groaned. “What time is it?”

“Eight o’clock,” Ron said. “We thought we’d stop by before class.”

“Ugh,” Harry said, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table.

“Here you go,” Hermione said, and Harry felt the frames being placed against his fingers.

“Er…” Ron said. “Harry? Do you really need those?”

Harry wondered for a moment what Ron was on about. “Oh,” Harry said, pulling his glasses off. “I… No.” Harry shrugged. “Habit I guess.” Harry reached out to set the glasses back on the bedside table.

“Keep them on, Harry,” Hermione said. “You never know when your vision will return, and it would be best if you could see when it does.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “you’re right, Hermione.”

“I’m always right,” she said.

Harry laughed. His friends bickering used to drive him to the brink of insanity but now it just made everything feel normal. And considering he was blind and living in Snape’s private quarters, ‘normal’ was a very welcome feeling.

“Oh!” Hermione suddenly said. “We forgot to tell you. Last night at dinner, Dumbledore motioned for us to come up to the head table. He told us that your uncle had passed away unexpectedly and that you had left the castle to be with your relatives.”

“He said you’d be gone for a few days,” Ron added.

“It was rather clever of him,” Hermione observed. “That way, the teachers overheard him, and all the students in the Great Hall were super curious, so of course the rumor spread quickly.”                                      

“That’ll work,” Harry said. “Now I just have to get my vision back so I can return to Hogwarts.”

“You will, Harry,” Hermione said, patting his hand.

“What’s for breakfast?” Harry asked, getting up and counting the ten steps to the table.


“Good mornin’, Harry,” Covey called, knocking loudly on his door. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” Harry called.

“Did yer friends come by this mornin‘?” Covey asked.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “We had breakfast. Hermione is going to bring over some homework for me at lunch.”

“That’s good.”

“Is it?” Harry said. “I won‘t be able to read Hermione’s notes, much less my textbooks, and I won‘t be able to write. I don‘t know how I‘m supposed to keep up with my schoolwork.”

“Harry,” Covey said, her voice sounding nearer. “Mind if I sit next ta ye?”

Harry shook his head and scooted over. He had been sitting on the edge of his bed, contemplating how on earth he was going to pass the time, when Covey had arrived.

Harry felt the mattress dip next to him.

“I ken how ye can do yer schoolwork,” Covey said.

“Yeah?” Harry said, his voice more sarcastic than he meant to make it.

“Well,” Covey said, ignoring his attitude, “there’s this wee little thing called magic,” she said, lightly bumping her shoulder against his. “I ken we can charm Hermione’s notes and yer books ta read ta ye, an’ I know I can charm yer quill ta write whatever ye say ta it, aye?”

Harry could hear the smile in her voice.

“An’ I’d bet I willna even be needed, since I have a feelin’ that Hermione will already have it all figured out, aye?”

Harry did smile at that. “Yeah, I’m sure she does.” Harry closed his eyes—it made no difference, anyway—and said, “I’m sorry. I’m just having a really hard time with not being able to see.”

“I ken ye are,” Covey said, “but it’ll get better, I promise.”

Harry nodded, hoping beyond hope that she was right.

“Now,” Covey said, “what’d ye say ta takin’ a tour o’ Sevvie’s quarters? You dinna want ta be stuck in yer room all day, do ye?”

Harry felt Covey’s hand enclose his as she stood up. She pulled lightly, silently offering to hold his hand as she led him around Snape’s living space. One part of him wanted to protest that he wasn’t a baby. The other part of him enjoyed her touch; she was an attractive witch, after all, and intelligent, too. He might have to reconsider the latter; she was dating Snape, after all.

“Lead the way,” he said, and Covey did.

The End.


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