1996

Harry didn’t slam the door once he reached his bedroom, but he did set about to make as much noise as possible otherwise. He clamored through his bureau, slamming drawers as he yanked out clean clothes and closing the big double doors with extra force. He went back down the short corridor, no longer stomping, but making no effort to be quiet either as he stalked past the sitting room. He didn’t look in so he didn’t know if his father was still in there but Harry figured he was probably in his lab—brewing. What the hell was wrong with him? Mucking about in his lab in the middle of the night? What was it with his father and his habit of never sleeping? And then Severus had the gall to tell him he needed to rest!

With a scowl, Harry closed the washroom door loudly. His movements continued to be jerky as he undressed and stepped into the shower, though there wasn’t really much more noise he could make to show his father just how irritated he was; the muffled thud of his clothes as they landed in the laundry basket was unsatisfying somehow. And since the shower’s knobs only required a feathered touch, there wasn’t even the squeak of turning knobs to make him feel better.

With a sigh, Harry leaned his forehead against the wall of the shower. The heat from the water was soothing and he found himself wishing he had done this last night; it would have eased the chill Voldemort had bequeathed him with much sooner. It would have helped more than his short nightmare-ridden nap on the sofa at least. He frowned as he remembered the disturbing dream.

And how easy it had been to talk to his father about it.

With a prickle of guilt, Harry closed his eyes as he began to wish he hadn’t been quite so rude. He certainly hadn’t expressed himself well, but damn it all, why couldn’t his dad just take care of himself? No one else was going to do it for him. And wasn’t it hypocritical for Severus to tell him to sleep, while he stayed up all night like some sort of nutter?

Harry straightened, swiping an impatient hand over his face to shed the water that pelted his face with his abrupt movement. What if his father had tried to sleep? And couldn’t. Was it possible that Severus had been just as disturbed as he was? But Harry shook his head. Even after Halloween, his father hadn’t had even one nightmare.

Feeling more frustrated with the man than when he’d left the table, Harry poured a generous amount of shampoo into his cupped palm and massaged it roughly into his scalp. He let the water pour over his head again, the water mingling with sudsy bubbles. He guided the last of the shampoo out of his hair. Feeling as though it wasn’t enough somehow, Harry repeated the process, only moving to lather his body with soap once that was completed.

The soap felt gritty, as though there were layers of grime on his skin. His entire body seemed to be covered in invisible dirt. And no matter how hard he scrubbed the white soap over and over, he wouldn’t come clean. It was as though he would never be clean again…

--

Severus scowled as he listened to his son slamming drawers in his room. Part of him wanted to go in there and order Harry to stop acting like a child and to demand that he treat him with respect, but the larger part, as usual, preferred to avoid a confrontation with his son.  And Harry was obviously on edge because of their confrontation with Voldemort and everything that had come before it. Surely it was better to allow Harry to simply vent his frustration, but Severus couldn’t even begin to guess what sort of effect Voldemort’s demise would have on Harry in the next few weeks…

Severus looked up as the stomping footsteps came back down the corridor and he watched with pinched lips as Harry stormed past, looking pointedly ahead on his way to the washroom and then Severus clenched his jaw in response to the washroom door slamming loudly. Before he could decide how to handle the childish display from his son, the sitting room door announced the arrival of Harry’s friends.

Smoothing his features into an expression that wouldn’t give away his thorough irritation with Harry, Severus went to the door. Lupin and Harry’s three Gryffindor friends were waiting eagerly on the other side. Even Weasley showed no trace of discomfort; they were all grinning. It was likely the mood all over Hogwarts…all over wizarding Britain.

“Good morning, Severus,” Lupin greeted. The greeting was echoed in three more voices and Severus inclined his head in response.

“Good morning,” he returned as he opened the door fully. Lupin ushered the children ahead of him. All of them were practically vibrating with excitement and Severus was suddenly dreading having to sit through lunch in the Great Hall. At least he wouldn’t have to attempt to teach today. His own sleep-deprivation, combined with over-energetic adolescents would have been a volatile combination—even without the addition of temperamental potions ingredients.

“Is Harry awake?” Ms. Granger asked politely, though she still had a soppy smile plastered over her face. Severus nodded, his facial muscles flexing involuntarily at the mention of his son; he did not enjoy this feeling of being at odds with him, and he thoroughly regretted his tone at the end of their mild row. 

“He will be with you momentarily,” Severus informed them, curbing the curtness from his tone. He offered them seats on the sofa, which the children accepted, though Lupin remained standing, his hands clasped behind his back. His face was fairly shining and he was bouncing lightly on his toes. Severus did his best not to wonder what could have made the other man so happy. Voldemort’s demise surely could not be the cause for this much happiness.

“Is Harry feeling all right?” Ginny spoke up. Severus turned to her; her forehead was creased with worry.

“He is tired, but otherwise he is well,” he told her. Ginny narrowed her eyes a little as though she somehow knew that he was wasn’t being completely truthful.

“And how are you feeling? You must be awfully tired as well,” she guessed, her eyes appraising. He managed not to frown at her.

“I am feeling well.”

“Did you and Harry see the papers, sir?” Ms. Granger inquired, her fingers wrinkling the copy in her hands.

“Yes,” Severus answered, feeling a bit like he was being interrogated. Why in Merlin’s name were they attempting small talk with him? Ms. Granger cleared her throat nervously. Severus forced his jaw to remain relaxed.

“The whole school’s pretty stunned, sir,” she began awkwardly and Severus raised an eyebrow at the seeming pointlessness of her statement. The eyebrow made the girl swallow nervously.

Ginny, with a glance at her friend, spoke next, maintaining eye contact without any trouble. “Everyone’s pretty eager to see Harry though. I don’t think they’ll be able to not mob him when he comes to the Great Hall,” she told him. Severus tensed at her words, knowing that Harry would find great discomfort in the adoration of his peers and he wondered how long the two of them could avoid leaving their quarters.

--

Harry scrubbed the towel over his hair once more before flipping it into the basket. It disappeared but Harry didn’t smile as he usually did at the small display of magic. He ran his fingers through his damp hair, attempting to straighten out the pieces that never stayed where he put them, before opening the door. His gut was tingling nervously in anticipation of having to talk to his father.  And by now, he was anxious to simply apologize and be done with their disagreement.  

He drew in a steadying breath as he rounded the corner to the sitting room, wishing he didn’t have to interrupt Severus’ brewing. His breath whooshed out of his chest in surprise when he found his friends waiting for him. He hadn’t realized he’d been in the shower so long.

Ginny, Ron and Hermione turned toward him, their grins making Harry feel suddenly elated. Remus was looking much happier than he usually did as well. “Hi Harry,” his friends chorused together. He grinned at them. Ginny came toward him without further encouragement and Harry folded her in a hug.

“How are you?” she asked in his ear.

“All right,” he told her as he squeezed. She kissed his cheek before she pulled away. Ron and Hermione were standing now as well. Harry smiled widely at them before turning to Remus.

“Where’s Tonks?” he asked. Though it seemed impossible, his friend fairly glowed at the mention of the Auror.

“She’s still asleep. Pomfrey had to give her a Sleeping Draught after a few hours. She couldn’t sleep,” he said, and Harry realized his friend was bouncing up and down slightly. Harry frowned at him.

“So why are you grinning?” he asked, very confused. Tonks being so distraught over last night’s events hardly seemed something to smile about. Remus’ face split into a smile so radiant, Harry was fearful for an instant that his friend had gone barmy with the strain of all of things Voldemort.

“I asked Tonks to marry me,” he announced, sounding quite breathless and Harry, after gaping at his friend in stunned amazement, let out a whoop and went toward him. He grasped Remus in a tight hug.

“Congratulations,” Harry said happily. He pulled back after a moment though. “She said yes, right?” he demanded. Remus chuckled and nodded.

“She was almost as excited as you,” he teased and Harry stuck his tongue out at the other man, who was still grinning. Without thinking about it, Harry turned to his father, about to share his excitement but the expression on Severus’ face stopped him. His lips were set in a thin line and he looked anything but happy about Remus’ news. Harry’s smile froze on his lips. He turned back to his friends.

“When’s the wedding?” Hermione asked, her hands clasped together in excitement. Remus, frowning slightly as he gazed at Severus, turned slowly to her.

“Tonks said she needs to discuss plans with her mother,” he said, glancing at Harry and then once more at Severus as he answered. Hermione and Ginny made strange, soft squealing noises while Ron was looking rather pale. And Harry wondered with amusement if his friend thought marriage was catching.

“Oh, Professor Lupin, that’s so exciting,” Hermione was gushing. Remus grinned again, before darting his eyes to Severus. He cleared his throat a little before turning to Harry.

“I’d like you to be my best man, Harry,” he informed him, sounding rather nervous all of a sudden. Harry grinned at his friend.

“I’d like that,” he said sincerely, thinking how much his mum and James would have wanted to be there for Remus…and Sirius. He pushed all thoughts of his godfather way as Remus clapped him on the shoulder before addressing Severus, his tone more reserved.

“I would be honored, Severus, if you would stand with me as well.”

Severus’ face was a blank mask, but Harry noticed the pleased surprise that glinted in his father’s black eyes and with one smooth movement, his head tipping forward, Severus was agreeing. Remus’ posture relaxed a little and he smiled easily around the room. He looked so happy and though Severus was the only one not openly smiling, even his mood seemed to have lifted a bit.

Harry felt another surge of guilt for the way he’d spoken to his father earlier. He tried a small smile in his direction; Severus’ jaw relaxed and his eyes softened.

“Perhaps you and your friends would like to visit in your room,” he suggested. Harry, feeling marginally better, smiled at his friends’ eager looks and with a last grin for Remus, he led his friends toward his room.

Ron and Hermione’s eyes lingered over the open door to Severus’ room as they turned to Harry’s bedroom. Ron’s eyes were wide with amazement. “You know,” he whispered quietly as they stood in the corridor, “I never would have expected Snape to have a satin bedspread…is it satin, Harry?” he asked in wonder. Harry rolled his eyes and gave Ron a light shove into his room. Ron made a noise of protest but went in anyway.

“It’s lovely,” Hermione told him happily as she took in his room. Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Hermione.”

Ron nodded his agreement before plopping himself in the chair. He leaned forward on his elbows. “What the hell happened to You Know Who, Harry?” he asked, his ginger eyebrows scrunched together.

Harry waited until both Hermione and Ginny had chosen spots on the bed before sitting lightly on the edge beside Ginny. She took his hand. He smiled fleetingly at her before addressing Ron, “They had to make sure his soul wouldn’t have a body to go back to.”

“So you had to put a curse on his body?” Ron concluded with a grimace.

“But wasn’t it just awful to-” Hermione began nervously, but Harry shook his head in resignation.

“I wasn’t there. The picture’s been manipulated. Dumbledore was supposed to perform the curse, but since he didn’t mention it last night…”

Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks. “But Severus said you both saw the picture,” Ginny pointed out, ignoring Ron again as he made a face at her use of Severus’ given name. “He didn’t know if Dumbledore actually cast the Curse?” she asked. Harry shrugged.

“I don’t think so,” he answered, hoping not to give her an inkling that he was at odds with his father, but he knew it was unlikely she didn’t realize it already. “Dumbledore must have been the one though,” Harry reasoned, though he really didn't care one way or the other. Voldemort's soul wouldn't be rejoining his body, and that's all that mattered. “No one else except Remus knew about it.” His friends nodded and with a sigh, Harry told them about the reporters they’d met in the cemetery that morning.

“I can’t believe that woman,” Hermione said through her teeth. “Why don’t you just tell your dad about her being an Animagus?”

“He knows,” Harry told her. “I don’t think he plans to let her continue on this way for much longer. He was really angry this morning.” He shook his head in agitation. “But even without Skeeter, there were plenty of others who were sniffing around for blood. The whole school will know by this evening’s post that I’ve changed my name. I’ll never hear the end of that either,” he lamented.

His friends were gazing at him with sympathy. To Ron, Harry said, “You best stay away from me for awhile.” Ron looked at him in surprise. Harry shrugged. “I don’t want you getting into trouble again when I have to hex someone,” he explained. Ron frowned.

“McGonagall gave all of us a reprieve from our detentions…in celebration of You Know Who’s being dead,” he said, not sounding particularly happy about it. “But she said if any of us step out of line again, she’ll have us expelled.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Dumbledore’d never allow it,” he reassured his friend.  But at Hermione’s frown, he hastened to add, “But yeah, you should still stay out of trouble.” Hermione nodded in satisfaction, to which Ron made a face.

Hermione ignored him as she leaned forward. “There are Aurors all over,” she told him in a quiet voice as though she was afraid his father and Remus would hear her. Harry’s black eyebrows rose in surprise. “They’ve been given special permission by the Minister to question all the students…to make sure no one has any affiliation with Voldemort,” Hermione explained.

Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. He’d never really imagined what would have to happen after Voldemort was gone. In concern, he asked, “Have they questioned any of you?” He tensed when all three of them nodded. “What did they do?” he asked with a fair amount of apprehension.

“Dumbledore only agreed if the professors sat in on the interviews,” Ginny assured him quickly. “Lupin was with us right after breakfast…they administered Veritaserum,” she told him, making a face. And that made Harry tense further…the idea that his friends had been treated like criminals… Ginny, sensing his stress, squeezed his hand. “They only asked us a few questions and they were perfectly cordial about it,” she told him. Ron and Hermione both nodded.

“They didn’t hurt us or anything, mate,” Ron said in a voice, that for some reason calmed Harry’s nerves. His friend smiled at him and Harry smiled as well. Having them here made everything seem so normal…

“But aren’t they supposed to have a parent’s permission?” he pressed anyway. Hermione nodded.

“Normally they would, but Scrimgeour wrote some sort of decree and I don’t think most of the parents would protest anyway,” she confided, lowering her voice again. “Everyone is exceptionally anxious to put Voldemort behind them.”

“And it doesn’t help that there was an article in the Prophet about conspiracies…telling everyone to be wary of who they trust as the Aurors work to round up every last one of Voldemort’s followers,” Ginny put in, shaking her head a bit. “This morning Seamus accused Colin Creevey of acting dodgy. He actually suggested to McGonagall that he might have been working for Voldemort.”

Despite the enormity of all that had happened, Harry couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing at the image. “Colin!” he gasped out in between his somewhat hysterical laughter. “What was he doing? Trying to take pictures of me for Voldemort’s photo album?”

Ron chuckled along with him but both Ginny and Hermione were eyeing him warily. Hermione’s pert mouth turned down in a frown. “Are you all right, Harry?” she asked.

Still grinning, he shrugged. “Sure, Hermione. Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked with a carelessness he didn’t feel. Hermione frowned further.

“Harry,” she began, enunciating the word as though she were talking to someone very thick, “you’re sort of reminding me of the day you went into the Pensieve. You seem morose one minute and now you’re laughing-”

Harry’s mirth disappeared. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Hermione,” he insisted. “Voldemort’s dead…everything’s wonderful.”

The fact that not one of them, even Ginny, knew exactly what had happened after they’d activated the Charm…well, he preferred it that way. They didn’t need to know. And Harry knew they wouldn’t understand.  They couldn’t possibly understand.

“Harry,” Hermione started again; Ron was shaking his head at her. Hermione pursed her lips but still pressed, “Are you certain, Harry?” When Harry simply nodded, she added quietly, “All of us will listen, Harry, if you want to talk to us.”

Harry sighed, feeling suddenly deflated, and rather foolish for being irritated with her. “I know, Hermione. I’m all right though.” With a deep breath, he added, “It was wretched, but I’ll be all right.” He smiled just to show her he meant what he said. He felt Ginny’s fingers brushing against his back and the tiny fluttering movements soothed him even more.

Hermione didn’t look particularly convinced but she didn’t say anything more and in a very atypical maneuver, Ron swiftly smoothed over the discomfort. He produced a bag of Gobstones from his pocket, and challenged the other three to a four-way game. Giving his friend a grateful grin, Harry accepted.

--

“Is everything all right, Severus?”

The quiet question was full of concern and Severus had to force himself not to immediately snap at Lupin. He turned toward him, his features perfectly composed. “Yes,” he answered with as much patience as he could. Lupin shook his head, looking to be having an internal debate with himself. Severus watched him, feeling a strange mix of irritation and amusement at Lupin’s struggle. Remus finally sighed.

“I spoke to Albus this morning,” he finally said and Severus knew immediately that whatever struggle the man had been having, he had lost it; that wasn’t what Lupin had wanted to say. “He cast the curse on Voldemort’s body. Scrimgeour apparently insisted on having a photograph taken.”

Severus nodded. “The public requires evidence of his expulsion,” he returned, making certain his tone conveyed a complete disaffection with this morning’s paper. Wizarding Britain did have the right to feel secure now that Voldemort was disposed of. The Daily Prophet, on the other hand, did not have the right to use his son to sell their paper…

“Aurors have begun interviewing students, just as Albus suspected they would.”

Severus nodded once more. “Veritaserum?” he queried without feeling. He was pleased when Lupin nodded. He cared very little for the rights of the students. As long as it would mean Harry was safe, Scrimgeour could lock down the entire school if he chose.

“They started with those closest to Harry.”

“His friends were accompanied by one of the staff, I presume?” Severus found himself asking, and was oddly satisfied as Remus nodded again.

“I was with them. They only asked questions about Voldemort,” he answered. A short pause. “It’s known by now that Draco’s not in the castle. The gossip is rapidly spreading that he was with Voldemort last night. Some are saying he attempted to kill Harry.”

Severus’ lips thinned at the news. It would be exceedingly difficult to gain favor for Lucius and his son with such rumors. “Will he be returning today?”

Remus shook his head. “Albus told me Narcissa is not willing to let him out of her sight.”

Severus scowled at the woman’s stupidity. “I will contact her,” he promised. “We will need Order Aurors to interview Draco,” he added and Lupin nodded.

“Shacklebolt has already agreed…Farnsworth as well. Tonks is not an ideal choice as she was too closely involved with last night’s events…” he explained unnecessarily. Severus nodded; the movement felt awkward. A tepid silence followed. Lupin was studying him and Severus did not enjoy the scrutiny. There was the look of a battle raging behind the other man’s eyes again before Lupin finally stood a little straighter.

“Harry seems off…what happened?” he finally asked the question he’d been toying with since Harry had entered the room, and with a refreshing bluntness as well; his brown eyes were intense.

“Voldemort wanted Harry,” Severus answered. Lupin said nothing, for they had known it would happen that way. “He used Harry’s guilt in an attempt to separate us.” Remus looked confused. Severus sighed in agitation. “He accused Harry of killing Black…and you,” he finished tersely. Remus lips moved a little, but he didn’t seem to be able speak.

“Harry must have been devastated,” he finally whispered, his voice hoarse and Severus was relieved he hadn’t shared any of the bastard’s other taunts. Remus shook his head. “He blames himself for Sirius,” he said just as quietly, almost to himself. Severus’ jaw jumped.

“I am aware,” he returned icily when he was in control of his muscles again. Lupin frowned.

“Of course, Severus. I didn’t mean to-”

Lupin stopped speaking abruptly as laughter floated in from down the corridor—Harry’s laughter, Severus recognized immediately. He almost closed his eyes in relief. The sound was even more welcome than it had been at Highlands Cottage.

--

Harry and his friends had settled on the floor around Ron’s game and Harry figured they’d been playing for awhile, though he had been paying little attention. His mind was whirring around the things he could not say to his friends—the feelings he didn’t want to remember. And he was in no mood for Gobstones anymore, but he played anyway, feeling the time dragging by slowly. He gathered a few of the stones in his hand when his turn came around again.

The smooth spheres winked at him…the small orbs cool against his skin, like the ice had been against his storm…the chips of Voldemort…

Harry fingers dug around the stones as a wave of dizziness washed through him. He grabbed at the floor for support, but its smooth surface offered little assistance. He could feel himself falling and the void was so immense…

“Harry!

Harry blinked woozily, his eyelids dragging back open. He wasn’t even certain he’d meant to close them. Ginny’s face was right in front of his and then with a curt movement, Ginny’s face became his father’s. Harry stared at him in confusion; the black eyes looked almost feverish.

“Harry?” Strong fingers were on his shoulders. Harry shook his head, trying to wiggle out of his father’s grasp.

“I’m all right,” Harry said for perhaps the tenth time since last night. The refrain was becoming tiresome.

“What happened?” Severus asked roughly, paying no attention to Harry’s friends. “I could feel your panic from the sitting room,” he told him, speaking in an anxious, low voice. Harry shook his head in denial.  He hadn’t panicked.  He was certain of that, at least.

“I’m just tired,” he explained. “I’m still really tired,” he tried to insist when his father frowned at him.

“You were disoriented,” he stated flatly and Harry narrowed his scratchy eyes. “I was as well,” Severus added, his eyes holding Harry’s as if daring the boy to argue. Harry glared at him.

“You’re even more tired than I am,” he muttered. Severus stood up abruptly and Harry’s insides pinched as his father wobbled slightly; their connection obviously remained as strong as ever.

“Get up,” Severus commanded, the even toned marred by the irritation shining from his eyes. Harry used his palms to hoist himself up and the lingering disorientation waved through him again.

Severus moved swiftly, his fingers moving around Harry’s upper arm, but the grip was light as he was tugged upward. The hand stayed until Harry was steady again, and then Harry realized that his friends were all staring at them and he felt a hot flush spilling up his neck.

“Harry needs to see Madame Pomfrey. Professor Lupin will escort you out of the dungeons,” Severus dismissed all of them coldly. Ron pulled a hesitant Hermione out of his path and even Ginny moved a few steps toward Remus. Harry had a moment’s defiant urge to refuse to go with his father, but Severus turned toward him, his eyes darkest coal and Harry moved forward, almost automatically. He felt Ginny’s fingers brushing against his as he passed and he gave her a reassuring smile. He knew Ron and Hermione hadn’t seen his father angry with him in this sort of context. They were likely going to be pestering Ginny and Remus for confirmation that Severus wasn’t going to flay him, but Harry, even with the angry glint in his father’s eyes, felt only irritation as he left his room.

Severus followed Harry into the sitting room, stepping into the Floo after him. Harry avoided Severus’ eye as the flames took them to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey was applying bandages soaked in some green potion to a girl’s leg as Harry stumbled out; his father’s hand stopped him from falling, and kept its hold as they moved toward a bed. Pomfrey looked up, her face lining with wary concern as Severus guided Harry. The Mediwitch finished her ministrations on the sleeping girl and came over to them, her wand already out.

“What happened?” she asked briskly.

Even though his father opened his mouth to reply, Harry spoke over him, not wishing to excite the situation. “I’m just tired,” he told the Mediwitch. She raised her eyes at Severus’ frown.

“You are more than tired,” he contradicted.  Turning to Pomfrey, he snapped, “He’s been disoriented, and close to passing out, twice this morning.”  He was glowering fully now and had Harry not been feeling quite so exhausted, he would have taken it as the warning that it was.

“I am tired,” he said irritably, “and Voldemort tried to kidnap my soul or whatever it was that he was doing and I’m annoyed that everybody can’t just leave me alone.” He finished his heated ramble with a glare at both his father and Pomfrey. Severus’ answering glare diminished Harry’s considerably.

“If you are referring to either myself or Madame Pomfrey, you should realize that we cannot leave you alone until we-”

“I’m not talking about either of you,” Harry interrupted crossly, decidedly not in the mood for his father’s commentary right now. Severus’ face darkened, but before he could comment, Pomfrey stepped in front of him.

“Lay back, Harry,” she directed.  Grumbling, Harry complied. Severus stepped back around the Mediwitch and took out his own wand. He ignored Pomfrey’s disgruntled look as they performed simultaneous Diagnostic Spells. Pomfrey narrowed her eyes as she snapped her wand down.

“Did you sleep after I left your quarters?” she asked, sounding very annoyed.

“Of course I did,” Harry told her, unable to quell the irritation. Pomfrey’s eyes flashed up to Severus.

“How long did he sleep?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Harry pointed out, pushing himself up on his elbows. Pomfrey ignored him, though his father did not. He gave Harry a hard look. Harry pursed his lips at the silent rebuke, but didn’t comment further as he was discussed.

“He slept for four hours,” Severus relayed. Pomfrey stared at him as though he’d lost his mind.

“What do you expect, Severus?” Pomfrey scolded. “Of course he’s losing focus, not to mention becoming increasingly irascible,” she continued, to which Harry made a face. “I’ve already told you that both of you have been through too much strain in the past month and now with these last few days, it’s a wonder that both of you aren’t passed out cold.”

“Especially as you haven’t slept at all,” Harry added pointedly to his father. Severus turned to face him, his face wrought with displeasure and Harry bit his lip nervously, wondering if perhaps he’d just pushed his father too far.

“Severus!” Pomfrey scolded, and Severus dragged his eyes from his son. “You’ve been awake since you returned?” she demanded.

“I am perfectly-” Severus began snappishly but Pomfrey cut him off with a wave of her wand and a scowl.

“Severus Snape,” she admonished, “either you will begin to take proper care of yourself or I will recommend to Albus that you take a leave of absence.” Severus went rigid in front of her, but she ignored him. “You’re going to kill yourself if you continue to ignore your health this way,” she raged. “Both of you will rest before lunch and sleep a full eight hours tonight or I’ll have you and your son confined to the Infirmary. Is that clear?” She pinned both of them with a furious glare and Harry cringed at the look on his father’s face. Severus’ neck had begun to flush during Pomfrey’s scolding and now his features were so stiff, he almost looked like a statue.

“It is,” Severus finally answered without even moving a muscle. Pomfrey looked between Harry and Severus with another threatening glare, before handing Severus two vials.

“Both of you will take a Sleeping Draught tonight and I will see you in the morning for another check-up.” She sounded just like she was talking to a witless first year and Harry squirmed uncomfortably, knowing his father was likely about to explode due to her condescending treatment. But Severus only nodded and with another sharp look, Pomfrey turned around and went into her office, closing the door loudly behind her. They watched her go; Severus’ eyes remained fixed on the office door.

Harry sat up slowly. His father continued to stare at Pomfrey’s wooden door.

“I could do with some rest,” he suggested, hoping to avoid the lecture he was certain was imminent.

“It can wait,” Severus informed him ominously as he turned back around. Harry watched warily as his father stepped toward him, his mouth turned down in a firm frown. “I believe we are overdue for a discussion,” he added, his tone frosty. Harry’s fingers twisted in his sweatshirt.

“I shouldn’t have said that in front of Pomfrey,” he acknowledged, which made his father scowl deepen.

“No you should not have,” he agreed firmly. “Your irritation with me does not need to be displayed all over Hogwarts,” he added and Harry had to bite back a retort about the exaggeration of such a statement. Severus’ eyes narrowed. “You have something to say?” he queried, his tone dark, and Harry didn’t like it at all.

Harry chewed on his lip, moving his eyes to study the wall of empty beds on the other side of the Infirmary. He took a breath, making certain he was calm before trying to explain. “I was worried about you.”

Severus’ features softened a little, but he still shook his head.  He was frowning slightly, looking slightly confused as he answered, “It is inappropriate for you to shout at me, even if you are concerned.”

Harry’s fingertips pressed into his knees as he nodded. “I know,” he agreed softly, his eyes coming back to meet Severus’. “I guess I really am still feeling sort of uneasy about what happened,” he admitted, hoping to smooth the rest of their row over. “I know it’s not an excuse for shouting at you,” he added quickly.

“No it is not,” Severus agreed quietly. “You are far too old to be indulging in such tantrums, Harry,” he admonished and Harry flushed, both embarrassed and irritated by his father’s observation—and his apparent lack of concern about Harry’s unease.

“I wasn’t having a tantrum,” Harry disagreed, only to watch his father’s black eyebrow rise in challenge. Harry blew a short breath out his nostrils and hunched his shoulders up around his ears. He studied his father’s black waistcoat. “Less than twelve hours ago, I almost became Voldemort’s eternal companion. I think I’ve got a bit of a right to be tetchy.”

His father made a funny noise but when Harry looked up swiftly, Severus was perfectly composed. “You do,” he agreed. “I would prefer not to be the target of your tetchiness, however.”

Deciding it would be far easier to accede his father’s point, than to argue that Severus’ current irritability could stand to be pointed in a different direction, Harry nodded. Severus continued to study him for a moment. He seemed to be waiting for something, but before Harry could offer an apology, Severus inquired, “I presume you still wish to discuss my failure to sleep?” The question was slightly sarcastic and Harry bristled, but he nodded.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asked, trying to keep the agitation from his voice. The more Harry watched his father’s reactions, the more overly irritated Severus seemed—with Remus, with Pomfrey and even with him. More than irritated really…his father seemed angry with him.

“I already told you that I was brewing,” Severus told him. The words were rather stilted and Harry tensed again, his fingers splaying against the mattress.

“What were you brewing?” he asked, trying and largely succeeding in keeping his voice neutral. What the hell kind of potion could have been so important? Again, Severus looked away.

“I am working on a new formulation for the Wolfsbane,” he answered.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “For Remus?” he asked quickly. Severus’ chin bobbed once, his chin coming to meet his chest; he was still staring off to the side and Harry could only assume his father was uncomfortable with the admission. So Harry ignored it for now. His fingers wound themselves in his lap as he asked carefully, “But that could have waited until morning…couldn’t it?”

Severus nodded, still looking toward the windows. “It could have,” he agreed without inflection. Harry sighed, thoroughly regretting their earlier exchange now and wondering why his father was still so angry about it.

He leaned forward, and did his best to keep his tone perfectly respectful. “I didn’t mean to make you so angry…I’m sorry I was rude,” he offered quietly. Severus turned abruptly to him, his eyes widening a bit as he took in Harry’s nervous form.

“I am not angry,” Severus denied, his voice full of disquiet. Harry stared at him.

“You’re not?” he echoed. “But…oh.”

Harry didn’t really know what else to say. He didn’t really want to tell his father that he had been snappish since they’d been accosted by the reporters in the cemetery. Severus had, in fact, been downright cranky. Harry doubted, however, that such a classification would please his father.

Severus sighed. It was a heavy sound, full of exhaustion and Harry felt his face crumpling in concern. “Do you know why I punished you after you brawled with Pinth?”

Harry blinked at the unexpected question.

And with a new nervousness at the implication, he answered tentatively, “Erm…because I brawled with someone?”

But his father shook his head. “I would have preferred to leave the matter closed as soon as we finished discussing it.”

Harry stared at his father with bewildered eyes. Severus continued, “I did not allow Minerva to set your punishment.” Harry nodded, still befuddled. He had noticed…

“I missed almost every step in your life; every milestone was lost.” Severus' voice was growing quieter and Harry didn’t know how to respond because he had no idea what his father was trying to say. “Iincluding the first time you were disciplined…”

Harry had to clamp his teeth together to keep his mouth from falling open. “So you were just trying to make up for missing out on that?” he asked incredulously.

His father smiled, his face filled with humor this time. “No,” he corrected gently, “I was attempting to give you a sense of normalcy. I wanted you to experience all that it means to be someone’s son…to be my son. And I wanted to be your father, instead of your professor.”

Harry nodded, trying to ignore the emotions the short speech had brought forth. He didn’t really want to invite his father to reinstate his punishment, nor did he want to thank the man for grounding him in the first place. But he felt compelled to say something. Before he could, however, Severus continued, “I do not have an example to follow when I attempt to act as your father-”

“You’re not acting as my father,” Harry interrupted immediately. “You are my father,” he told Severus with a fierceness that was, by now, quite automatic.

Severus inclined his head in acceptance before continuing, “As I am experiencing a fair amount of anxiety surrounding recent events, I have been harsher toward you than I am comfortable with.” The black eyes warmed and Harry felt, all of a sudden, very loved by his father. “I do apologize for being brusque with you, Harry,” Severus added.

Harry blinked rapidly to dispel the emotions that were gathering in his eyes. "It's all right," he murmured. 

He looked away as he was weighted down with self-consciousness, but his father apparently had had enough of the distance between them. He caught Harry’s chin in his rough fingers and brought his face forward again. “It is not all right," he disagreed.  "There is nothing to stop us now from simply being father and son.  I am still learning what that means…as are you,” he added pointedly. Harry nodded and as his chin was still captured, it was rather difficult, but he understood what his father meant. “Our relationship will never be typical, and somehow, Harry,” Severus said very softly, “I find that I do not mind at all.”

Harry understood that as well. After all, how many sixteen year olds at Hogwarts would opt to live with their parent when they could be much more independent in the dorms with their friends? Even after rowing with his father, Harry hadn’t once considered leaving. They were what they were and Harry was content. He realized he might decide to go back to the tower eventually, but even that wouldn’t change their relationship. They’d been through too much to ever be too normal.

“I don’t mind either,” he agreed. Severus narrowed his eyes as he nodded.  He looked about to say more, but with a tiny shake of his head, he pulled his fingers from Harry’s chin.  The conversation seemed unfinished somehow, but Harry was currently basking in the feeling of cozy warmth from his father’s storm, so he really didn’t mind.  Feeling the phantom pressure of his father’s reassuring hold, Harry asked hesitantly, “Will you tell me why you didn’t sleep last night?”

Severus considered him briefly before nodding. “The small amount of time I was asleep last night was disturbed by dreams,” he admitted quietly.  His voice was so rough it made Harry’s insides squirm painfully.

“You had a nightmare?” he inquired softly. Severus didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. The turmoil in his eyes was enough. “What did you dream about?” Harry asked, hoping the question wouldn’t set off the snappishness again. But there was only naked pain in his father’s face.

“Voldemort, succeeding.”

Harry swallowed past the burgeoning knot. He remembered it. Remembered Voldemort tearing him apart…being dragged into the icy depths of darkness. But his father had stopped it. Had pulled him back. And Harry hadn’t even given any thought to how terrified his dad must have been in that eternal instant. “I’m sorry. I should have realized,” Harry said thickly. Severus’ lip lifted a little; the gesture was distinctly sad.

“You could not know my sleep would be interrupted in such a way,” he told him, but Harry shook his head.

“No, but I should have recognized that you’d be upset over what happened with Voldemort...how close he came to winning...”

The words came too easily and Severus’ face paled a little but he otherwise did not react. “It is not part of your role as my son to concern yourself with my well-being,” he said in perfect seriousness, as though he’d read the phrase in a book. Harry almost rolled his eyes.

“Of course it is,” he disagreed. Severus opened his mouth to argue, but Harry scooted forward on the bed, his eyes intense. “Who else is going to worry over you if I don’t?” He smiled when his dad had no answer; Severus gazed at Harry with confused eyes. “You take care of me,” Harry explained with a shrug. “I can take care of you as well.”

His father arched an authoritative brow, but Harry knew it was done to cover the emotions Harry’s simple statement had elicited. “I suggest you find a method other than the one you used earlier, if you wish me to accept any of your further attempts to take care of me,” he drawled.  His eyes lit with hushed amusement when Harry gave in to his urge to thrust his eyes heavenward.

“All right,” Harry agreed easily when his gaze resettled on his father, “but you need to tell me such details as ‘I couldn’t sleep due to nightmares’, so I don’t have to shout at you to get you to listen.” He was ready when his father narrowed his eyes. Harry offered Severus an innocent smile. “Well, I wouldn’t have had to if you’d just told me why you didn’t sleep,” he explained, keeping his tone as serious as he could. When his father continued to stare at him, Harry shrugged. “You told me you prefer me insolent.”

The narrowed eyes sparked with unconcealed mirth. “A grave mistake,” Severus concluded.

Harry grinned and hopped off the hospital bed, feeling suddenly energized. “Can you believe Remus is getting married?” he asked as they turned toward the Floo.

“Ms. Tonks has proposed a dozen times, Harry,” Severus returned lightly as they stepped in the fireplace. Harry stared at his father’s twitching lips before they were swallowed up.