The hour had finally passed. The dungeon had gone quiet; the screaming had at last stopped.

The Professor had gathered a few potions and stuffed them into his cloak, and as an afterthought he brought the bucket from his office. He had returned to the dungeons, and fully expected to hear Potter’s blood curdling cries for mercy. Instead Snape was greeted by the familiar and welcome stillness of the dungeon. Snape sighed with relief, thankful that Potter had finally shut up.

Snape approached the cell door and hesitated for a moment before he entered. He took a deep breath as he enjoyed the bit of silence, and with a low groan from the door he entered the chamber.

Harry lay in the middle of the floor. The boy was a trembling knot of young wizard flesh. His eyes were closed; Harry appeared to be asleep. Snape set the bucket near the locked chamber door and approached the young man with measured steps.

Snape knelt down near the boy and shook him gently by the shoulder. Harry started awake, looking wide-eyed and frightened. Recognition crossed Harry’s face and moment later he relaxed. Harry released a distinct groan of displeasure; the boy was not pleased to see the Professor again.

Snape almost snorted a retort about the feelings being mutual, but he held his tongue. There were more important things at hand than insulting the boy. Snape reached down and helped the young Gryffindor to sit up.

“Professor,” Harry began, his voice sounded hoarse and shaky, “please, no more.”

“Potter, if you wish to be permanently damaged by the potions you were fed then by all means I’ll leave you alone. However, should you have the desire to regain the ability to consume solid foods once more then you must allow me to help you.”

“But I feel so much better already,” Harry protested weakly.

Snape sighed in annoyance. “A temporary lull in the effects of the poison. Soon the potion I gave you will wear off and the poison will return to your system. We’d have to start everything all over again, and in your weakened state I doubt that you would survive. Your suffering from an hour ago would be for nothing,” Snape spoke in a surprisingly mild voice. He was not about to waste more time and potions on Potter than absolutely necessary.

Harry nodded. Snape was right; he had no wish to repeat the ordeal from an hour ago.

Nearly thirty minutes had passed. Harry had accepted a familiar potion from Snape, and submitted to the nausea that overcame him because of it. Snape waited until he was certain the boy had finished before clearing the seething mess in his bucket. Harry felt better after the heaves finally stopped; his stomach was at last truly empty.

“Now Potter, for the next few weeks it will be necessary to monitor your eating habits. Your insides are going to be very sensitive, and even though the poison has been purged from your system you’re going to have difficulty eating. It will be necessary to take things slow for a while.”

Harry only half heard what Professor Snape had said. All he was able to think about was the fact that he was incredibly thirsty. Harry couldn’t remember a time when he had longed for a glass of cold water more. Harry swallowed dryly and tried to remember what water tasted like. Even after several seconds he couldn’t recall the flavor.

Harry jerked alert; he had been surprised by a popping noise. He realized a few seconds later that Snape had snapped his fingers in an attempt to regain Harry’s attention. Harry briefly wondered why Snape hadn’t just yelled at him as he always did during potions classes.

“Have you heard a word that I’ve said to you, Potter?” Snape asked, his malicious tone subdued enough that the boy took notice.

“Yes, sir. Watch what I eat.”

“Potter, you should rest,” Snape stated conjuring a blanket and draping it over the boy’s shoulders.

Harry shook his head in refusal as he stifled a yawn.

“What is it now, Potter?” Snape asked as he tried to rein in his irritation.

“Thirsty, sir,” the boy answered.

Snape begrudgingly conjured a goblet full of water. Snape held the goblet to Harry’s lips and allowed the boy to take a few sips of the water.

“That’s enough water for now, Potter,” Snape said as he pulled the goblet away and caused it to vanish. Harry thought about protesting; he hadn’t been anywhere near satisfied with that small drink. “Get some rest. I’ll return later to check on you.”

Snape set the boy carefully back on the stone floor, and stalked out of the room before Harry could stop him. He hadn’t even had the chance to thank the man for all that he’d done.

Harry snuggled tightly into the blanket that Snape had given him, and within a few moments he was once again asleep on the prison floor.

Snape returned to the chamber a few hours later with a bowl of broth for Harry. Snape quietly roused the young man from his sleep.

“I’ve brought you something to eat,” Snape said as he gently stirred the steaming contents of the bowl.

With help Harry was able to sit up. Harry peered into the bowl that Snape was offering him as food. It reminded Harry of warm, brown water, but not anything edible. This was something Aunt Petunia would give to him at home. The scent of the broth attacked his nostrils, and his stomach growled in response. He was actually hungry.

Snape helped him take the broth. The teacher didn’t make any biting comments, much to Harry’s surprise. He had fully been expecting Snape to heckle him about being too feeble to feed himself.

It only took a few moments for Harry’s belly to fill to capacity. The bowl in Snape’s pale hand was still three quarters of the way full.

“Now, if you can keep that down for the next few hours, then we’ll have made some progress, Potter,” Snape stated, drawing himself up from the floor. He found his bucket on the floor and brought it to Harry. “I hope that you will not need to use this soon. Rest. I’ll be back later.”

Harry watched in silence as Snape swept out of the room. He sighed with strange contentment; a full stomach felt surprisingly pleasant.

Snape snapped alert. The boy was screaming again. He could ignore it; it would stop soon. It didn’t. Harry’s cries became louder more panicked, and more annoying.

“Bloody Hell!” Severus growled as he stood from his desk. He slammed the book he’d been studying shut with a snap. “Blasted Potter!” Professor Snape grumbled as he stormed to the chamber and stepped inside. This child was going to drive him to the end of his nerve long before Voldemort would have the chance.