The healing salves were coming along nicely. They would not be ready to use on Potter's arms for another four and a half weeks still, but the thick, slowly bubbling liquids were the exact shade of metallic grey that was correct for this early stage. Severus felt a strong sense of satisfaction at observing his work.

Whatever his other failings were, he could create potions---complex, direly needed potions that no one else had invented. Even that Fleur Delacour who had seen only the smallest bit of his work, had admitted that he was a genius.

Severus did not think this feeling was arrogance on his part. In every other area of his life, he considered himself a failure. He had no family, no friends with the possible exception of Albus Dumbledore, a career he did not enjoy, memories that could drive him insane if he allowed himself to dwell on them, and now that he could no longer spy against the Dark Lord, even his means of atonement had vanished.

But he could create potions.

A small sound, almost unnoticeable, caught his attention and he turned from his cauldrons to peer through the open doorway into his bedroom. Potter was stirring. Severus sighed. He would have to order breakfast for the boy, and unless Albus chose to visit again this morning, he would have to feed him. Wouldn't that be entertaining for the both of them?

He had been hoping that Fleur Delacour might show up early and take over that little chore, or that Potter's friends would be around at mealtimes. After all, the main reason he'd agreed to let them into his rooms was so that others could do the actual caring for Potter and he, Severus, could lock himself in his office and concentrate on his work.

But Delacour had brewed enough Blood-Replenishing Potion to last for awhile, and she had sent a message this morning saying that she was going to spend the day with Bill Weasley. And for some unknown reason, Potter was refusing to see the Weasleys and Granger. It was most frustrating. Severus had made the great concession of permitting those infuriating children to visit one another, and Potter was throwing it back in his face.

Even worse, it meant that Severus was going to have to see that the boy ate and was comfortable. He was frowning as he entered his bedroom.

Potter was sitting up, blinking owlishly, and he had not yet put on his glasses. Somehow, without the glasses, it was easier to see ‘Harry' rather than ‘young James.'

"Are you hungry?" Severus demanded without preamble.

He had a feeling that Potter would have liked to deny it, but after a moment's hesitation, the boy nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Your system is not strong enough to handle anything but soft foods, but I suppose eggs and toast would be all right." Severus told him. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Um, scrambled?" It came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

Severus went to the fireplace, took some Floo powder from the jar on the mantel, and ordered a plate of scrambled eggs and buttered toast from the kitchen. It appeared a few minutes later, hovering in mid-air along with a tumbler of juice.

Severus sighed again as he pulled a chair close to the bed and took the plate of food and the glass. Turning his attention back to Potter, he noticed that the boy had now put on his glasses and that there was a dawning look of horror on his face.

"Um, Professor, I really can feed myself. You don't have to, I mean, it isn't necessary---"

"I'll decide what's necessary, Potter," Severus growled, setting the tumbler of juice on the night table and spearing a forkful of eggs. "You're supposed to be keeping your arms still."

"But I wouldn't have to move them much. I'm sure they'll be all right," the boy argued.

Severus scowled even more fiercely. "Potter! It will be almost five weeks before your arms can be healed. Do you have any idea how much blood you can lose if you cause them to bleed several times a day? Do you want to undo all the hard work we have done in trying to help you get well? If your own health means nothing to you, you should at least show a little consideration for the people who risked their lives to save yours. Now quit arguing and eat."

Potter bit his lip and ducked his head. "But it's just-"

"If you say one more word, Potter, I'm going to put a Body-Binding Spell on you and shove these eggs down your foolish throat."

The professor's cool voice was nothing like Bellatrix's harsh tones, but Harry had a sudden vision of being frozen while the Death Eaters shot curses at him, being totally unable to move or make a sound, having to lie helpless as they tortured him. The room started to spin and then turned black. He couldn't breathe. It hurt. It hurt so much.

"Harry!" A gentle hand was squeezing his shoulder. "Harry, you're safe. You're safe here. Take a breath now. That's right."

The voice was soft and soothing, and slowly the memory receded. Harry drew in a shaky breath and realized that he was curled on his side, with his hands laced together on top of his head, his arms covering his face. He moved them and opened his eyes to see Snape kneeling beside him, his hand on Harry's shoulder, and a look on his face that Harry didn't think he'd ever seen before. Could it be concern?

Snape's black eyes traveled to Harry's arms and with a muttered oath, he reached for them. Harry looked too, and sure enough, the white bandages were soaked with blood now. The professor quickly pulled his wand and waved them over Harry's arms, murmuring an incantation that Harry couldn't decipher. After a few moments, the bleeding stopped and Snape Vanished the dirty bandages, then Summoned a bowl of cool water and a clean cloth.

Harry flinched, but Snape's touch was tender as he carefully washed the deep wounds and then wrapped them again in clean gauze. He glanced up at Harry and waved his wand again. A whoosh of air rushed over Harry's head, ruffling his dark hair. For a second Harry was confused, then realized that he must have gotten blood in his hair when he was cowering like a baby, and that Snape must have cleansed that, too.

The man Summoned a bottle of Blood-Replenisher and silently handed it to Harry to drink. Shuddering at the taste, Harry did so.

Only then did the Potions professor ease back into his chair and the two of them regarded each other uncertainly. Harry braced himself for some acerbic comment, but when Snape spoke, he said the last thing in the world Harry had expected him to say.

"I apologize, Potter. I would not actually harm you. I hope you realize that."

Oh, and all the years you've bullied me and humiliated me don't count as harm? But Harry wasn't really afraid of Snape physically hurting him and maybe it would be better if the professor understood why he had reacted the way he had instead of thinking that Harry was such a coward as to be undone by the threat of a Body-Bind Spell.

"It's just that that's what they did," he mumbled, dropping his eyes from Snape's gaze. "They put a Body-Bind Spell or something like it on me when they---when they were---, and I couldn't move or anything...."

He trailed off, feeling that he'd sounded more like a whinging baby than ever, but when he looked up he saw a flicker of emotion cross over Snape's face and then the man said briskly, "It's over now, Potter, and you're safe. No one is going to hurt you again."

The words sounded familiar somehow. Harry had a vague memory of someone saying them before and running light fingers through his hair to comfort him, but he couldn't imagine who. Surely Snape would never do such a thing. Would he?

He was distracted by the professor reaching for the plate of eggs and toast on the night table, and saying calmly, "Cold by now," and then, "That's better," when he'd cast a Heating Charm over it.

Snape turned back to Harry and said firmly, "No more theatrics. You need to eat, and I need to get back to work."

Harry still didn't like it, but he let Snape feed him without any more fuss.

Dumbledore had Harry's trunk sent down soon after breakfast. Harry hated to bother Snape again, but he really did want to get started on his assignments. The professor came and rather impatiently got out the textbooks and writing equipment and set them on the bed. Then he cast charms over them so that the books would turn their own pages and the quill would write by voice command.

"Are you all set now?" He demanded.

"I think so," Harry began when a thought occurred to him. A thought so terrible and with such enormous consequences that he actually felt himself turn pale.

"My wand," he whispered. "I lost my wand."

Snape opened the drawer of the night table and took out a slim wand. "You're not to use it yet, Potter. But it's here. It was on the ground at the Burrow."

Harry sagged back against the pillows. His relief was so intense he was overwhelmed by it. "Thank you."

Snape shrugged, but as he turned away, Harry thought he heard a very quiet, "You're welcome."

The morning passed quickly after that. Snape was holed up in his office and Harry was busy trying to catch up on his work. Several times he thought of Ron and Hermione and wished they were there, all of them doing their homework together as they had so often before. Ron would be making jokes and Harry would be laughing at them and Hermione would be lecturing them both.

He missed them so much it was like a physical ache, but Harry pushed those thoughts away and concentrated fiercely on learning the merits of the Venomous Tentacula. He had to get used to doing things alone now.

***

Severus kept a close eye on the boy the rest of the morning, although he was careful to make sure Potter didn't realize it. It wasn't difficult, as Potter seemed completely absorbed in his readings. If only he could pay half that much attention in Potions class, Severus thought dourly.

He really wasn't annoyed with Potter, though. He was concerned, and that was a very new feeling for Severus. But he had been truly shaken by their interaction that morning.

He had expected Potter to resist being fed by him, but he had not expected that violent reaction to his idle threat of the Body-Bind Spell. It was understandable, now that he knew that the Death Eaters had used it on the boy. And Severus regretted his choice of words. He never would have mentioned the Body-Bind if he'd known it would trigger such horrible memories for Potter. Severus had suffered the Cruciatus curse before, though thankfully he had not had to endure it for long. His mind reeled at the thought of the agony Potter must have suffered.

And then seeing the boy's arms soaked with blood again, and knowing that he had been the one to upset him so-that had bothered Severus. Unfamiliar feelings of guilt and anxiety were welling up inside him now every time he looked at Potter and he didn't like it.

But he couldn't seem to stop himself from checking on the boy every little while.

Just before lunch, there was a knock on the door leading to the corridor outside Snape's quarters. Harry looked up from his book to see the Potions professor stride out of his office and through the living room. Harry couldn't see the door but he could hear voices.

Snape came back to the bedroom. "Weasley and Granger would like to see you. Do you have another headache?" He sneered.

Harry was caught unaware. "I-um, could you tell them I'm asleep, sir?"

"No, I could not." Snape's voice was cool again. "You know, Potter, I was beginning to think you might not be quite the brat I've always assumed you to be, but you are acting like an ungrateful prig to your friends. The Weasleys risked their lives taking you in this summer, and Arthur and Bill Weasley were among those who helped save you from the Riddle House. Granger has done no less for you on other occasions. And this is how you repay them?"

Stung, Harry blurted out. "But that's why I can't see them! Because being friends with me puts them in danger. Next time Voldemort might decide to go after them too, and I don't want them to get hurt because of me. I'm not ungrateful. I love them. And that's why I can't see them. Don't you understand?"

There was a flash of---something---in Snape's eyes, and the man's expression seemed to alter slightly. He ran a hand through his dark hair and then he actually came to sit at the foot of the bed.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I can understand. But you're wrong, Potter. The Weasleys and Granger have chosen to be your friends in spite of the danger. You don't have the right to take that choice away from them. I'm sure they're well aware of the facts and they're all old enough to make their own decision. Obviously, they've decided that you are worth the risk."

He paused and then added. "In any case, I'm tired of Weasley and Granger bothering me. If you no longer want to be friends with them, you're going to have to tell them yourself."

Before Harry could stop him, Snape had headed back towards the living room. But did he really want to stop Snape? Maybe the man had a point. Maybe his friends did have the right to decide for themselves if they wanted to be around him.

Before he could ponder the matter any further, though, they were there. Ron and Hermione, crowded together in the doorway, looking anxious and eager and happy and frightened all at once. The three of them stared at one another. Then Ron and Hermione both flew at him, and Harry was sure they were going to pounce on him and make his arms bleed again, but they caught themselves at the last instant and hugged him very carefully.

"Harry! Are you all right? We've been worried sick! We kept coming and coming, but Professor Snape kept saying you were unconscious and then you finally woke up, but we still couldn't see you. Dumbledore said you were all right, but you weren't ready to see people yet. But you've been seeing Professor Snape and Fleur. Why not us?" Hermione sat back and regarded Harry with eyes that managed to be both sympathetic and reproachful.

"Yeah, mate. Haven't we always been there for each other? Why didn't you want to see us?" Ron settled himself on Harry's other side and looked at him curiously.

"It wasn't that I didn't want to," Harry tried to explain. "It's just that, well, Sirius died because of me, and now after this, I just thought that---"

"Oh, you thought you were endangering us." Hermione exclaimed.

Ron lightly cuffed him on the side of the head. "Harry, you idiot."

Harry frowned at them. "But I'm not being an idiot. I am endangering you, and your families. You really shouldn't hang around with me anymore. It's not safe."

Ron shrugged. "When has it ever been safe then? That's never stopped us before."

"Well, lately I've realized just how high the stakes are." Harry's voice grew sharp. "What happened to me was horrible. You don't know how horrible, and if anything like that happened to either of you, because of me, well, I couldn't bear it."

"Harry, what happened to you was horrible, and you're right that Ron and I can't know exactly how you've suffered." Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she reached for his hands. "But if you drop us, we can't bear that. We love you."

"What do you mean ‘if he drops us'? Like we're giving him a choice in the matter?" Ron demanded. He turned to Harry. "Sorry, mate, but you're stuck with us. It's too late to back out now."

Ron's words echoed what Snape had said earlier, but Harry decided not to mention that. Ron would probably have a fit at being compared to Snape in any way, although Harry had to admit that the professor had been surprisingly decent today. He stared at the pattern woven through the quilt---three different shades of blue, a trio, just like Ron and Hermione and him. He grinned even as tears blurred his eyesight.

"You two are pretty hard to get rid of, you know that?"

Hermione hugged him again and Ron put an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Well, now that we've got that all straightened out, what shall we do?" Ron eyed the textbooks and parchment scattered on the bed. "Harry, don't tell me you've been doing homework. There's still a month before school starts, you know."

"Less than a month, actually, Ron," Hermione informed him. "It's the tenth of August."

"The tenth of August?" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione looked surprised. "Didn't you know, Harry? You were unconscious for days."

"I didn't realize I was out of it for that long," he answered slowly. The tenth of August. He'd missed his birthday then. What was more, his arms weren't going to be healed by the time school opened. Would he be able to attend classes? Harry hated to think of missing the start of school.

But just then, looking at the best friends anyone could ever have, he decided that he wasn't going to worry about it right now. He was going to enjoy this afternoon with Ron and Hermione. "Either of you bring your cards? We could play Exploding Snap."

***

Severus debated casting a Silencing Charm around the room when the kids began their game, but decided that he'd better listen in case things got rowdy. He might need to go in and caution Potter to be careful about moving his arms.

He peered into the room and studied them---a slight boy in red striped pajamas with black hair that refused to lie flat, brilliant green eyes, and glasses; a tall lanky boy with bright flame-coloured hair and freckles; and a small girl with long bushy brown hair and brown eyes.

He shook his head. In his worst nightmares, he'd never seen Potter, Weasley, and Granger in his rooms. And yet, they were here by his own invitation. What was happening to him?

He must be going mad.