After dinner the Weasleys and Hermione departed, bidding Severus and Harry farewell. Ron, Hermione, and the twins gathered close to Harry's wheelchair while Arthur stepped close to Severus.

"Severus, if there's anything that we can do to help you and Harry, please let us know," he said, his kindly face looking unusually worried and solemn as he watched the little group around Harry.

Severus nodded, "Thank you, Arthur, and for your help today."

The two men shook hands, Arthur went over to Harry to say good-bye, and then he and the twins left, Flooing back to the Burrow.

"Ron, Hermione, a moment please," Severus stopped the two younger teens from leaving. "I am going to put up protective wards surrounding the island this evening. I will put in a communication gateway so that people can send mail or firecall, but no one will be able to broach the wards in person. Therefore I need to know exactly what time you're planning to arrive on Friday so I can drop the wards long enough for you to come through."

"Will you have to do that every time we visit?" Ron asked.

"No," Severus and Hermione spoke at the same time and Hermione rushed on for a moment, saying, "I've been studying about them. Once the wards are established..."

She broke off abruptly, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was being a know-it-all again, wasn't I?"

"Hermione, you are an extremely intelligent young woman, and even more, you have an enthusiasm and a joy for learning. You share information not for the purpose of making yourself look good, but to help others and to share that joy. Those are admirable qualities. There is no need for you to be ashamed or apologetic," Severus paused. "Indeed, I owe you an apology for any comments I have made in the past that might have caused you to become self-conscious."

Hermione and Ron both stared at him in slack-jawed amazement. Despite the fact that they were on much better terms now than in the past, they were obviously surprised at Severus' contrition and praise.

Severus raised an eyebrow at them. "Well, Hermione, do you wish to finish explaining about protective wards or shall I?"

Hermione turned to Ron. "Once the wards are established, Severus can lead us through a spell that will enable them to absorb our magical signatures. After that we can enter and leave through them. But the wards must be in place first."

"Yes, and warding a site as large as the island might take some time," Severus added. "It will be quicker and easier for you if we add your signatures on the weekend after the wards are already up."

Ron and Hermione quickly conferred and decided that they would arrive at four o'clock Friday afternoon.

Severus nodded. "Very well. I will have the wards down a few minutes before four. Harry and I will see you then."

Ron and Hermione shook his hand, knelt to give Harry one more hug and left, Flooing back to their respective homes from the dining room fireplace.

"Hermione must have arranged to have her parents' house connected to the Floo network. Didn't you tell me that she was living with them again this year, Harry?" Severus remarked as he stepped close to Harry's wheelchair again.

He crouched beside Harry and added quietly, "Don't worry. They'll return on Friday. That's only a few days from now. In the meantime, would you like to watch while I establish the wards?"

Severus stood and glanced over to where Dobby hovered in the dining room doorway. "Dobby, would you be good enough to take care of the mess in here?"

"Of course, Master Snape. Is there anything else you or Master Harry need?" The elf immediately replied.

"I think that will be all," Severus answered. "I'm going to set up protective wards and then Harry and I will retire for the evening."

He left the little elf and levitated Harry's chair back upstairs, wheeling him into the bedroom that Severus had chosen for him.

"This is your room, Harry. What do you think?" Severus waited a second, just as if the boy would respond. He gestured towards where Harry's trunk rested at the foot of the bed. "We've unpacked most of your things. Of course you're welcome to rearrange items if you wish."

After a moment Severus drew his wand and straightened. "All right then. I'm going put up the wards so we won't have to worry about having any unexpected guests."

Severus spent the better part of the next hour setting the wards. The spells were complex and draining and by the time he was finished, Severus was exhausted. But the magic surrounding the island was strong and he was satisfied that he and Harry were well-protected. It was most likely a needless precaution now that Voldemort was dead and most of the Death Eaters had been killed or captured, but Severus just felt better knowing that the wards were in place.

"We'll add your magical signature to them as well, once you're able," Severus told Harry.

He hesitated. He was tired, but it was rather early for bed. Then he happened to look at the window, to the loggia just beyond. "Shall we go and sit outside for a while, Harry?"

A moment later they were on the outside gallery. Comfortable wicker furniture covered with plump colorful cushions stood there. One piece was a sort of enlarged rocking chair for two, a small sofa that could rock to and fro. Severus wheeled Harry over to it and carefully lifted him in his arms. He settled Harry onto the sofa and then sank down beside him, leaning back with a weary sigh.

Severus slid one arm around Harry's thin shoulders while his other arm circled about the boy's chest, pulling him even closer into a warm, secure embrace. Harry slumped against him. His head dropped to rest against Severus' shoulder, strands of his hair tickling Severus' chin. Severus reached with one hand and gently smoothed Harry's hair back from his forehead, then continued to lightly caress his fingers through the child's unruly mop as he slowly rocked them back and forth with one foot.

For a while Severus was quiet. The sun had already set. At the western edge of the horizon, golden streaks in the sky paid final homage to the sunset, fading to purple and then a deep dark blue. Stars twinkled like diamonds against a velvety background. The only sounds were the rhythmic creak of the wicker sofa, the rustle of palm leaves, and the distant murmur of the waves as they crashed onto the shore in their timeless dance of ebb and flow.

"Tomorrow we'll go down to the beach and see the ocean," Severus finally broke the silence, speaking in a low, soft tone. "You said once that you had been near the sea with those relatives, but that it was cold and stormy and you spent the whole time locked inside a hut. Well, everything is different here, Harry. I think you're going to like it."

Severus tilted his head to try to look into Harry's face. "I went to the seaside once, as a small child. Did I ever tell you about that? Probably not. I don't like to talk about my past. Most of it isn't worth talking about. My parents were bitter, unhappy people and I was often a target for their frustrations. But when I was small my grandmother lived with us, and she was different. She loved me."

"She tried to protect me and to bring some happiness into my life, as much as she could. And one summer, when my parents had gone away for a weekend, she took me to the seashore for a day. I never really thought much about it before, but she must have saved money for months beforehand, to have enough to buy the train tickets. Anyway, we went to the seaside and I played in the water and built a sand castle. I suppose it's difficult to imagine me doing something so frivolous, hmm? But I did. My grandmother and I walked along the shore and looked for seashells, and had a picnic lunch, and then we headed back to our miserable little hovel in town. She died when I was eight."

Severus took a deep breath. "I blame only myself for the poor choices I made in life, Harry. But I have sometimes wondered if things might have been different if my grandmother had lived longer."

He cleared his throat. "Ah, well, there's no use dwelling on it now." Severus looked down at the boy tucked against his side. "She used to tell me stories sometimes in the evenings before bed, fairy tales from Beedle the Bard. Has anyone ever told you those old tales, Harry? One of my favorites was ‘The Fountain of Fair Fortune.' Let's see if I can remember it."

"High on a hill in an enchanted garden, enclosed by tall walls and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune..."

Severus held Harry in his arms and continued to lightly stroke his hair as he rocked them back and forth in the cool of the Mediterranean evening.

***

They did go down to the seashore the next day, but Harry did not pay it the slightest attention. Over the next few weeks, Severus found it more and more difficult to hold onto hope. He continued to care diligently for Harry, of course, and talked with him of the future, as if he fully expected Harry to come out of his catatonic state at any moment, but inside Severus' heart cold despair and grief were beginning to take root. Moving to the villa had not changed anything. Harry was still as unresponsive as a statue, locked away in his own mind and lost in his own desolation. Severus had no idea of how to reach him.

Ron and Hermione came every weekend, arriving on Friday afternoons and staying until Sunday evenings. Like Severus, they chatted with Harry as if he would join in and involved him in activities as much as possible. It was still warm enough to swim so they brought swimsuits and spent many hours on the beach.

Severus would change Harry into his swim trunks, perform sun-blocking charms over all of them, and then the four of them would go down to the seashore. Severus could not bring himself to wear a swimsuit, but he did exchange his customary dark robes for a white lightweight shirt and trousers. Ron and Hermione would sit right with Harry at the water's edge, letting the waves roll over their legs, telling him about Ron's everyday adventures working with the twins at their joke shop and about Hermione's studies and the projects she was working on.

Then Severus would lift Harry back into his chair and they would walk along the shore, sometimes talking and sometimes in silence, pausing to study pools of tidewater and the little sea creatures they found along the way.

"You've got to get better, Harry, so we can go flying, too," Ron remarked. "You've got that huge field behind the villa. It would be perfect for setting up a Quidditch pitch. And Fred and George want us to join their amateur team, too. I've got a Nimbus now, did I tell you? I broke down and bought it last week when Quality Quidditch Supplies had a sale. It's not a Firebolt, but it's a good broom."

Ron gazed at his friend sadly and finished in a low voice, "We'll have a lot of fun, Harry, when you're better. Come on, mate, please..."

But Harry didn't get better and they all were finding it more and more difficult to keep hoping. Not that anyone was willing to give up. They couldn't; they all loved Harry too much, but it was becoming harder to believe that Harry would come back to them.

It was a Wednesday evening when the idea occurred to Severus. He and Harry had been walking along the beach, or rather Severus had been walking and Harry had been sitting in his chair. Severus would levitate it to float an inch or so above ground and they would travel along the shore for an hour or more in the afternoons. Severus reflected dryly that he was probably more fit now than ever before in his life, with all the walking he did.

When they returned to the villa, Dobby met them in the entrance hall, gesturing to a small box wrapped in brown paper that rested on the round table.

"Oh, Master Snape, this package came while you were out. It is from Hogwarts, sir," the house elf told him.

"Thank you, Dobby," Severus said rather absent-mindedly as he picked it up and examined it. Nothing that might harm himself or Harry could come through the wards, and the handwritten address on the package was familiar.

Sure enough, when he'd unwrapped the paper to reveal a wooden box inside, a scroll of parchment fell out as well. It was a letter from Albus, explaining that he was sending them house-warming gifts, as well as an invitation to visit Hogwarts and have dinner with him. Inside the wooden box were four season passes to the Chudley Cannons Quidditch matches, presumably for Harry, and bottles of potions ingredients for Severus.

Severus lifted the bottles one by one and studied them appraisingly. It was a thoughtful gesture, although actually he had not worked on potions for some time, not since Harry had hurt himself and had been in his waking-coma state. Severus had not even wanted to brew anything since then. All of his time, energy, and devotion had gone to caring for Harry. Always before, brewing had been both his passion and a refuge from the burdens and pressures of life. But now, until Harry was well again, Severus just had no interest in it.

Well, he would keep these materials in one of the storage rooms downstairs and perhaps one day he would use them.

"Dobby, please take these bottles downstairs and put them in the back storage room. Make certain to keep the lids sealed; some of them contain highly toxic ingredients."

As Dobby hurried off, Severus wheeled Harry upstairs and out to the loggia for dinner. They ate most of their meals outside now, too, taking advantage of the beautiful weather. He spelled Harry's nutritive potion into the boy's system with a sigh.

"Harry, child, you need to start eating," he said softly. He motioned to the table where a bowl of salad, plates of crusty bread sticks and shrimp scampi, and a glass of red wine sat. "Wouldn't you rather have real food than potions at every meal?"

When Harry just sat there, Severus sighed again and sat down at his place. He ate slowly, methodically. Even though the food was delicious...Dobby was an excellent chef...Severus could not enjoy it. How could he enjoy anything when the child he loved as his own son was so miserable and there was no way to help him?

But...there was a way. Harry would be happy if he were free from the slavery spell.

Severus froze as the thought blossomed. In his mind's eye, he could see images of the bottles of potions ingredients that Albus had sent...highly toxic potions ingredients.

He had said that he would do anything to help Harry. Had he really meant it?

Eventually Severus pushed away his plate of half-eaten food and took Harry inside. Usually after dinner they sat outside a while, rocking on the sofa as Severus held Harry in his arms and talked with him, making plans for their future, telling him the old children's stories, trying to comfort him and offer him hope.

But tonight Severus put Harry to bed early, the boy silent and unprotesting as always. Then Severus went to his own room and sank down into an armchair. It was cooler at night than during the day, but it still wasn't really cold. Nonetheless, Severus felt chilled to the bone and he lit a fire in the fireplace.

He sat and gazed into the flames for hours, thinking and planning. At one point, he bowed his head and covered his face with his hands. This was not what he wanted. He had hoped so fiercely that Harry could recover and that the two of them could heal one another and find the peace and joy they deserved. But he had tried everything to heal Harry, and none of it had helped.

And if anyone in the world deserved happiness, it was Harry.

Severus would do anything for him, even if it required sacrificing himself.

It was long past midnight when he finally extinguished the flames and stood. He straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and walked briskly and purposefully down to the lowest level of the villa.

He had a potion to brew.