Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
I’m so sorry this is so late! My beta seems to have fallen off the face of the earth, and I’m tired of waiting, so this is unbeta’d! Sorry for any mistakes. From now on, if my beta doesn’t get back to me within a few days, I’ll post without it being edited. It’s not like it changes that much. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN REVISED!
Fracture

Hermione slid into the seat beside Ron at the dinner table, looking around for Harry, but not spotting him. She hadn’t seen him all day and it was starting to worry her a bit. She pulled a plate of chicken towards her as she tried to convince herself that she was hungry.

“You alright, ‘Mione? You look tired,” Ron commented as he piled his plate with extremely too much food. He hadn’t seen much of his girlfriend recently, and he was sure it had a lot to do with Potter.

Hermione sighed as she pushed her mashed potatoes around her plate disinterestedly. “During the attack on Diagon Alley, do you remember any of the spells the Death Eaters used when they attacked Harry and Malfoy?” she said, launching straight into the point of the matter. She’d been worried Ron would avoid the question out of sheer spite, so she’d dallied in asking.

Ron dropped his fork and gave Hermione a strange look before he retrieved it. “No, I wasn’t really paying that much attention. Why, what do you care?” he asked using the same fork that had just touched the ground to shovel potatoes into his mouth.

Hermione grimaced as she pushed her own plate away, losing her already shoddy appetite. “Professor Snape asked me to ask you about it. He’s been researching the ways different dark spells interact with each other in the hopes of working out a cure for Draco.”

‘Draco’? What the hell, Hermione, you’ve not gone to the Dark Side too, have you?” Ron asked incredulously as he abandoned his own dinner in favour of glaring at his girlfriend. This was it, the final straw. That git had turned his own girlfriend against him now.

Hermione slammed her hand onto the table, upsetting a cup of pumpkin juice and making everyone near them jump. “Damn it, Ronald! I’ve had enough of that already! I’m just trying to help wake Draco up – yes, Draco! How can you be so heartless as to begrudge somebody their life, no matter who they are? You’ve got to get your priorities right, Ron, and stop being such a prat about everything! Harry needs us, but you’re too bloody pig-headed to be there for him. I’m done dancing around this. Either grow up, or leave me the hell alone, you hear me? I’m done!”

 Hermione had stood up from the table by the end of her tirade, shaking with emotion as she glared at her – at Ronald. She waited about five seconds for a response, but only received a blushing glare in return. She turned on her heel at left the Great Hall, smiling to herself as she heard a few people cheering her on from the various House tables.

S~S~S~S

“...Severus?”

Severus shifted in his sleep, feeling a warm hand tracing his cheek. He clenched his eyes closed against a bright beam of light trying to break through his eyelids. He was determined not to wake up; at least not until he felt a pair of soft lips press against his own. His eyes slid open as the kiss was broken, spotting Remus in the faint wand light trained on him. He glanced around and saw that he had fallen asleep beside Harry’s bed in the infirmary.

“What time is it?” Severus asked in a quiet, raspy voice. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes as he sat up, feeling his back protest after being curled in a strange position for so long.

Remus lowered his wand, draping them in darkness as he flicked off the light. “It’s nearly four in the morning. Poppy saw that you’d fallen asleep, but she didn’t want to wake you; she said you looked so peaceful,” Remus whispered with a cheeky grin. “I was wondering where you were when you never showed up in your quarters, and then I realized Harry wasn’t in his room either. You scared the hell out of me, actually.”

Severus straightened out his crumpled robes as he looked over at the sleeping Gryffindor in the bed beside him. Harry was definitely dead to the world, his chest rising and falling steadily, his expression relaxed. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep at Harry’s bedside.

“I must have dozed off, I don’t even remember falling asleep,” said Severus, turning back to look at Remus, who had an unreadable expression on his prematurely aged face.

“You must be exhausted, Severus. Come on, you need your bed. Harry’s fine here; quite dead asleep, actually.”

Severus sighed as he stood up and followed Remus out of the infirmary, glancing back at Harry and then at the curtain enclosed bed where he knew Draco to be. He was obviously doing something wrong; both of his charges were in hospital, after all.

The two men walked in silence all the way down to Severus’ dungeon quarters, not even sparing a glance for each other until the wall-turned-door was closed and locked behind them. Remus’ breath hitched as he was suddenly pushed against the wall, Severus pressing extremely close to him.

“Make me forget, Remus...Make it go away,” Severus whispered almost inaudibly; a sign that he was extremely vulnerable and liable to break if rejected.

Remus let out a slow breath as he wrapped his arms around the Potions Master, pulling him even closer. Severus never allowed anyone to see him weak or vulnerable; it was too great a risk to him. This was a first, and Remus was glad he was being let in to see his lover like no one else was allowed to. He caught Severus’ lips in a searing kiss, feeling the man melt against him.

“I’ll fix this, I’ll fix you,” Remus whispered back before stealing another fierce kiss. He pushed the Potions Professor gently back, then took his hand and led him to his room, intent on fixing the broken man.

S~S~S~S

Time passes quickly when you’re bogged down with stress, though Harry could have sworn it felt like time had stopped completely sometimes. His school work was getting more and more demanding, leaving less time for him and Hermione to research the three spells they now had to work with to try and wake Draco up. Even though he had done as Snape had told him and stopped sneaking out to see Draco at night, he still stayed up late at night with many a tome on Dark Magic, researching in the night what he couldn’t in the day. Apparently he hadn’t learned from his stint in the hospital wing after passing out from an Occlumency lesson due to exhaustion.

Ron was still being as stubborn as ever, and even more so now that Hermione had broken up with him and started giving him the silent treatment. The glares he sent towards Harry and Hermione made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry’s neck, but it also made him extremely sad. Ron had been his very first friend, even apart from Hermione. It was like fourth year all over again, but this time, Harry didn’t have a dragon to battle to prove himself.

Snape was…well, Snape was Snape. He’d certainly lost the snarkiest edge to his attitude, at least towards Harry, but now he had found new victims, and shocking ones they were. Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were singled out by Snape regularly now; the thugs outside of the classroom, considering they didn’t get anywhere near the O.W.L. to take Advanced Potions, even with the lowered requirements. Since Pansy’s attempted attack on Harry in the hospital wing, Snape had taken at least another round one hundred points or so just from her. It was hurting his reputation as esteemed Gryffindor hater, but with his spy cover already blown, he needn’t be undeservedly cruel to the lions anymore. Now he could spread his contempt evenly through the Houses, including his own.

And Snape was getting much better at his job of care-taker. Harry was learning to appreciate the man more and more, and their relationship reflected on it. They hardly ever fought anymore, and when they did, it was usually a tit-for-tat thing, where Harry returned just as much as he got, and Snape learned to back down when necessary. After all, fighting with a sixteen year old was pretty pointless when they’re always right, don’t you know.

There was still no change in Draco’s condition. They’d tried an experimental spell reversal potion, but nothing happened other than making his temperature drop to near dangerous levels. Needless to say, they were wary of trying out any more experimental remedies. Healer Smithson was becoming nearly as irritated and desperate as Snape and Harry. She confessed to feeling like a complete failure as a Healer, after having had so much hope when Draco was first brought in. A month and a half had passed already, but to no avail for poor Draco.

Remus was growing weary of Severus’ antics. After the first two weeks of term had come and gone, the Potions Master had been coming up with excuse after excuse for why he couldn’t spend time with the werewolf. Though a lot of these excuses were valid, it was the obviously made up ones that irked Remus to the core. Snape may be good at lying, but the man didn’t even try hard enough not to make it obvious that he was pointedly avoiding Remus.

In lieu of Snape’s abandonment, old feelings had started to rise and choke the werewolf, making him draw back into himself. He’d never missed Sirius so much, not even when the man had been in Azkaban. Remus missed the warmth, the kisses, the companionship, and certainly the sex, but what he missed the most was that sense of unconditional love. His tryst with Severus, well…that was mostly about sex, maybe a few tender feelings here and there, but love; love didn’t have a place in their relationship, or so it seemed. It was unravelling rather quickly, and Remus was tempted to hurry it along so he could pick up the pieces of himself and move on…again. He’d known he was making a mistake getting involved with the Potions Master to begin with, but he let his loneliness take over, and it had cost him more than he cared to admit. That he’d moved on so quickly from Sirius to be with someone who used to despise him…Remus felt very, very stupid, especially since it was starting to look like he was just being used. Figures, he should have known; shame on him, and his rebound relations.

Dumbledore was…missing, most of the time. He’d leave the castle for hours, sometimes days, leaving all the duties to poor Minerva, who was starting to crack under the pressure; she had to start taking a regimen of Calming Draughts every day. Nobody ever knew quite where the Headmaster was running off to, but they knew this; not even the Order had a clue what the old man was up to, and that boded ill.

The Order, well…they were getting about as much done as a cure was being found for Draco. Without their spy, crucial information on the Dark Lord was greatly lacking, and many attacks occurred before they could stop them. The death toll was rising steadily, and the Wizarding World had started to panic. The Muggles had even caught wind of the attacks by loss of their own ranks in mysterious murders and things the Prime Minister deemed as ‘natural, freak disasters’, simply because he had no idea what they really were, and he needed to tell his public something.

The Ministry of Magic was crumbling at the foundation as well. Fudge was steadfastly ignoring much of the highly publicized murders and crimes, claiming that it was the fault of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He’d fired the Head, Kingsley Shacklebolt, in an attempt to make it look like they were doing something within the Ministry itself, and had appointed the last person anyone would have thought as the man’s predecessor; Arthur Weasley. It was great news for the financially lacking Weasley family, but a very strange move on the Minister’s part, making many people wary of his sanity. People simply don’t go from Muggle Liaison piss-on, to Department Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Kingsley Shacklebolt had actually started a petition to impeach the Minister on principle of his lacking intelligence. It was gaining popularity, much to the dismay of poor, foolish old Fudge.

The world, Magical and Muggle alike, was in disarray, and Voldemort simply loved it. He revelled in the pain and suffering, the confusion and outrage. That his machinations were coming to fruition made him salivate like a hungry dog. It wouldn’t be long now, and he’d be able to make his move. It wouldn’t be long…and all he needed to focus on now was getting to Potter. However, that was proving to be more of a problem than the Dark Lord was willing to admit – ever. With the Brat-Who-Lived ensconced safely in Snape’s little womb at Hogwarts, Voldemort dared not touch the school. No, not yet, they were not ready for that battle yet. But soon…oh, very soon.

S~S~S~S

After spending most of the night tossing and turning after staying up late into the night doing research, Harry did not appreciate his alarm spell going off at seven in the morning. He considered cancelling it and going back to sleep, but that was out of the question when you shared living space with none other than one of your Professors. With a heavy sigh and a groan of exhaustion, Harry rolled out of bed, and promptly squeaked in fright as Snape stepped in front of him.

“Holy hell, Severus, you scared me half to death!” Harry snapped as he clutched as his chest and tried to control his breathing. He hated when Snape did that, which was usually every time he woke up late.

“You should have been up an hour ago. I was simply checking to make sure you hadn’t fallen ill. Obviously, you’re fine,” Severus said in a long suffering tone, earning him a slight glare.

Harry scoffed and bent down over his trunk, rummaging to find a pair of clean socks. “Yeah, fine, we’ll call it that for now,” he grumbled under his breath trying his best to ignore Snape, who was still standing behind him, but now with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is there something wrong that I should be aware of, Potter, or are you simply just not a morning person?” Severus asked with his classic sneer. As far as he had come with Harry, he still detested foolish teenage angst of any kind.

Harry slammed the lid of his trunk closed and stood up straight, turning on Snape with a sneer of his own. “Yes, there is something wrong; there are lots of bloody things that are wrong! I can’t sleep at night, so I read, and research, and write – for nothing. I can’t fix him, no matter how much research Hermione and I do, I can’t focus in class because I’m so damn tired all the time, and you’re always breathing down my neck about one thing or another! I need space, damn it!” Harry yelled, realizing too late that he sounded very much like a five year old throwing a temper tantrum.

Severus just stared at the angry Gryffindor, waiting for his anger to subside somewhat before responding, as not to stoke the already roaring flames. “You should have come to me and asked for a sleeping draught if you couldn’t sleep. Did you learn nothing about sleep deprivation, or do you enjoy spending the night in the infirmary in a charmed sleep? I know you are frustrated about Draco’s condition because I feel the same way. The difference is I know how to control myself. I don’t ‘breath down your neck’, I only check on you to make sure you’re doing alright, but I’ve obviously failed spectacularly at that, haven’t I? You can have as much space as you want, Harry, but it is my job to protect you – ”

“There you go again with the whole ‘it’s my job to protect you’ bollocks!” Harry mocked, not willing to let this anger go for some reason. He needed an outlet for all his pent up emotions; Snape was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Protecting me and being there for me are two different things. I know it’s your job, but I need you to be there for me as well and that includes giving me my space when I need it! I’m not used to having somebody care...” he trailed off, reluctant to finish that line of thought and expose himself more to the Potions Master than he already mistakenly had. This whole morning was turning into a train wreck.

Taking a deep breath and trying to let his frustration with the boy slide, Severus pulled patience from somewhere deep within him. He walked around Harry and sat on the bed, gesturing that Harry should do the same and waiting to continue until Harry complied and sat beside him, looking difficult. “I’m sorry that that phrasing bothers you, but it is the truth. I will not reiterate; it will only serve to make you angry once more. The reason I agreed to have you move down here was so that I could protect you more easily and be here for you when you needed it. If I have seemed a bit overbearing as of late, I apologize, but I have just as much stress, if not indeed more, than you do yourself. I am human, Harry, I do make mistakes. As for not being used to having somebody care...Well, plenty of people care for you, so that’s not true. I think what you mean to say is that you’re not used to having a parental figure in your life. I understand, Harry, I do. I’ll try to ease up a bit on you.”

Harry swallowed heavily, turning his face away from Snape. The Potions Professor had hit the nail right on the head, and it unnerved Harry a little to know he was so transparent to Snape. “Ok, thanks...I’m sorry for going off on you, I’m just really tired,” Harry said with a frown, meaning it honestly.

Severus stood up and shook out his black robes, checking the clock and realizing that they were both soon going to be late. “I’ll get you that sleeping draught tonight, and possibly some Calming draught to take the edge off your insomnia. We’re going to be late, so I suggest you hurry up and get dressed.”

Harry just nodded and gathered his clothes for the day, going into his bathroom and locking the door behind him. He could already tell today was not going to be a good day.

S~S~S~S

“Harry! Wait up, I wanted to talk to about something,” Ginny called from her spot at the dinner table. She quickly grabbed up her bag and waved off her friends before following Harry, who had waited for her outside of the Great Hall.

As little as Harry wished to be bothered today, he couldn’t find it in himself to brush Ginny off. He already knew this was going to be about Quidditch; it usually was. “What’s up?” he asked lamely.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the line-up for the Gryffindor/Slytherin match. With Dean out of commission because of his detention, it would really be better if I played Chaser, and we used a reserve Seeker. I know you said you didn’t even want to stay on as a reserve, but I kind of placed you on the roster as reserve Seeker anyways. Now with Malfoy still being in a coma, the new Slytherin Seeker is just awful, not that Malfoy was that fantastic to begin with – ”

“Ginny, I really need to go get some homework done before my Occlumency lesson, I’m sorry. Look, I told you I didn’t want to play reserve, so my answer is no,” Harry said coldly, getting highly annoyed with the way Ginny was talking about Draco; never mind that, this time last year, he would have agreed with her.

Ginny frowned and stopped walking, her expression showing annoyance. “Harry, we really need you for this one game. Couldn’t you just play this once, and then I’ll try-out new reserves for Seeker – ”

“There are things in life much more important than Quidditch, Ginny! Draco has been in a coma for nearly two months, and all you care about is Quidditch! You may not give a damn about whether or not he ever wakes up, but I do. We’re fighting a war, Ginny. I can’t be a careless teenager like you; my destiny has been chosen for me and I must fulfil it, or else everyone will suffer. I carry the weight of the Wizarding world on my God damn shoulders; I don’t need the added pressure of you constantly on my back as well,” Harry snapped, gaining a few scandalized and curious stares from fellow students leaving the Great Hall. He’d had enough already today; he just couldn’t handle Ginny’s mollycoddling as well.

Ginny was definitely angry now as her face turned red, much like her brother’s often did when upset. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Harry. “‘Careless teenager’? I worry just as much about this damn war as you do, Harry! Every God damned member of my family is putting their lives on the line to help protect you and help you succeed in finishing You-Know-Who. I worry every day that I’m going to get news that one of them has been killed! I worry about you being in the middle of it all and having this pressure on you of being The Chosen One. I play Quidditch not as a carefree past time, but as a distraction from all the shite going on with the war. I know there are things more important than Quidditch, trust me I do, but I thought that you could use the distraction as well. I don’t know what’s happened to you, Harry. You spend half a summer with Snape and Malfoy, and suddenly it seems like you’ve forgotten who your real friends are. You fight with Ron and push him away, you make Hermione take your side and push Ron away from her as well, you hardly even talk to me or look at me, your grades are slipping because you’re always with Malfoy in the hospital wing, and you’re constantly hidden away with Snape doing Merlin knows what! I don’t know who you are, but you’re certainly not the Harry I used to love.” Her anger had turned to tears as she finished her speech, turning away from Harry and running from the small crowd that had began to gather.

Amongst this crowd was, of course, Snape. Harry groaned as the Potions Master waded his way through the crowd and stood in front of him, looking down his prominent nose at him. “I think, perhaps, that you need a break from things right now. Go work on your assignments in our quarters so as not to attract anymore drama,” Severus all but demanded, making the students standing nearby snicker and disperse.

“I need to get a book from the library, I’ll just work there,” Harry said, waving Snape off and ignoring his demands to come back. He made his way quickly to the library and found an empty table in the far back corner. Throwing his bag heavily onto the table, Harry pulled out the chair and slumped into it, not bothering to get his work out at all. He leaned his head on his arms over the table, resting his eyes for a bit to help gather his thoughts, and fell asleep.

An hour later, Harry woke abruptly as someone slammed a book down on the table in front of him, making him jump nearly out of his seat. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and felt his insides go cold as he realized it was Ron.

“What the hell, Potter? What did you say to her to make her cry, eh? She said she was trying to talk to you about playing reserve next week at the match and you blew up at her and started ranting about ferret boy again. What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Harry?”

Harry’s sluggish mind took a minute to realize Ron was talking about Ginny, and another to realize Ron had used his first name for the first time in weeks. He stood up and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder; he was too tired to deal with Ron’s crap at the moment. “I didn’t mean to make her cry, Ron, I was just upset with what she had said about Draco. I’m tired, I’m going home,” he said wearily.

Ron’s face turned an even deeper shade of red than it already was as he advanced on Harry and poked him hard in the chest. “Who the hell cares what she said about Malfoy? Good riddance he’s still out cold, better chances for Gryffindor. You said you would play reserve, she’s only trying to do her job as captain, and since when do you consider that greasy bat’s rooms ‘home’?” Ron snapped, his face much too close to Harry’s for comfort.

Harry shoved Ron hard in the chest, shaking in anger as he let his bag fall to the ground. “Fuck you, Weasley! I care what she says about Draco! I never said I would play reserve; you’re both taking the mickey. Snape’s rooms are my home, because I can’t possibly consider Gryffindor my home anymore; not with you there acting like a complete git about everything! Just leave me the fuck alone already, both of you! It’s not my fault Ginny’s a cry baby.” Harry’s voice had risen without him being aware, making Madam Pince walked briskly over, full ready to lecture about being quiet in the library. Before Harry could cut Pince off, he was being sent flying back into the bookshelf behind him by an almighty punch in the jaw from Ron.

“That’s it, Potter. You stay the fuck away from my family from now on, my parents included. You’re not welcome with us anymore. I don’t want you near them or speaking to them again, you hear me? NEVER AGAIN!” Ron shouted, shaking with rage. He had tears of fury in his eyes as he glared with full burning hatred at his once best friend, making Harry’s heart ache even more than his smarting jaw.

Clutching his bruised and possibly broken jaw, Harry grabbed up his bag and made his way quickly out of the library, ignoring Madam Pince’s angry ranting about her precious library. Taking the steps nearly two at a time the whole way down, Harry eventually made it to the entrance to the dungeon quarters he shared with Snape. Using a non-verbal spell to enter, Harry threw his bag angrily onto the couch, gaining a classic death glare from Snape, who was reading a book beside the hearth.

“What on earth is your problem now? Why are you holding your cheek?” Severus asked as he spotted bruising under Harry’s hand already. He stood up from his armchair and crossed the room, standing in front of Harry and pulling his hand away to reveal the massive bruising on his jaw; clearly, the boy had been knocked a good one. Whether or not he deserved it was what Snape was concerned about. “Who did this, what happened?”

Harry tried to pull away from Snape, but was held steady by Snape’s hands grasping his shoulder and the other side of his jaw, making him wince in pain. He didn’t know if he could even open his jaw to speak. “Ron punched me,” was all he managed to get out before fire exploded in his jaw and made him feel faint.

Severus frowned as he examined the deep bruising and rapid swelling. “It looks like he may have broken it. You’ll need to see Pomfrey for this, it’s beyond my abilities. Let me escort you – ”

Harry shook his head and pulled away from Snape, indicating that he wished to go alone and headed towards the door. He was stopped by Snape grabbing his wrist and pulling him around.

“You said you wanted me to be here for you, so damn it, I’m going to be here. Now stop being such a bloody Gryffindor and come; your jaw will only hurt worse the longer it stays untreated,” Severus snapped as he let go of Harry’s wrist and led the way out.

Once in the hospital wing, Harry was sitting on a bed beside Draco’s enclosed one, wincing as Madam Pomfrey rubbed bruise salve on his jaw and cheek after giving him a dose of skele-grow to help fix his fractured jaw. Severus was peering through the curtains in at Draco, just to check on him, when Madam Pomfrey announced that she was done, but Harry would need to stay the night at least.

“He’s not to talk until the healing’s complete.”

“Thank you, Poppy,” Severus said as he looked over her shoulder towards Harry, who was already getting comfortable in his hospital bed so that he could sleep. He walked over to Harry’s bedside, waiting until Pomfrey was in her office to speak. “Would you like me to give you some Dreamless Sleep? You look like you could use some rest.”

Harry just shook his head, not wanting to move his still sore jaw anymore than he absolutely needed to. He just wanted to sleep naturally, and he was exhausted enough to do it on his own, but first, he wanted to see Draco.

Severus sighed in frustration as he nodded. The boy was being much too stubborn, and he had a feeling it had something to do with the comatose Slytherin in the bed beside them. “Very well, then. I’ll come and check on you tomorrow. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry waved lazily, making a show of crawling underneath his covers and resting his head on his pillows, making sure not to put pressure on the left side of his face. He waited until Snape’s footsteps faded, and then some, before crawling slowly out of bed.

Harry moved the chair closer to the hospital bed than normal that night. He’d not had a pleasant day at all; he’d lost Ginny, another close friend, in less than twelve hours. He hadn’t meant to blow up at Ginny the way he did. Her comments had struck a nerve in him that he hadn’t known was so raw and exposed. As much as he may have overreacted, he still believed firmly in what he’d said to her. With a deep sigh, Harry leaned his elbows on his knees as he studied Draco’s pale, unmoving features. Even with his jaw smarting, he felt like he’d explode if he stayed silent another second.

“I had a row with Ginny today. She was trying to get me to rejoin the Gryffindor team as Seeker again and I lost my head. I upset her pretty bad, made her cry apparently. Ron was livid. He cornered me after dinner and gave me what for, warning me away from his entire family. The only pseudo-family I’ve ever had, and I’m banned from speaking to them. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would have. Maybe I’ve grown numb to losing those I love. I must be immune to heartache, yeah?”

Severus stood with his back leaning against the door frame of the infirmary, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched Harry from afar as he bared his soul to the comatose Slytherin. He’d known from Harry’s expression at dinner that something was definitely wrong. Severus had grown accustomed to watching the Gryffindor during meals, in classes, and from the door of the infirmary, much to his chagrin. The growing one-sided relationship between Harry and Draco was surprising, if not a little sad. The fact that Harry spoke most openly to someone who couldn’t respond spoke volumes about the Gryffindor’s frame of mind. Subconsciously, Severus vowed to redouble his efforts to awaken his godson.

S~S~S~S

Harry awoke to the sound of excited twittering as something small and fluffy bounced off his pyjama-clad chest repeatedly. He grunted tiredly as he opened his eyes and snatched the fluffy menace off his chest.

“Calm down, Pig. What’ve you got?” he slurred tiredly as he extracted the rolled parchment from the miniscule owl’s leg. Pigwidgeon took off in a victory fly over Harry’s head, tweeting triumphantly at his successful delivery. Harry rolled his eyes at the bird as he unrolled his letter.

‘Dear Harry,

How are you feeling, dear? Arthur and I received a letter early this morning detailing how Ron assaulted you and got a month of detention from Professor Snape for it. He’s received quite the Howler, I assure you.

Professor Snape also mentioned that the two of you have been at odds this year. Now, knowing my son as I do, Ron is probably being irrational about one thing or another, and is taking it out on you. He’ll get over it in time, I’m sure he will.

I want you to know you’ll always have a home here at the Burrow, Harry. Since the day I helped guide you through the barrier at platform nine and three quarters, I’ve held you very near to my heart, and that has not changed a wink, nor will it ever. Don’t let Ron, or Ginny, let you think any differently. We love you Harry, and we’d do anything for you – including grounding Ron for the entire summer hols for his little mishap with fracturing your jaw, the sod!

Feel better soon, dear, and don’t hesitate to send us an owl if you need anything at all. Take care!

With love and hugs,

Molly Weasley’

Harry grinned as he felt his chest tighten. He’d always been so fond of the Weasley family for taking him in and treating him as one of their own, but he always felt especially warm around Mrs. Weasley. It reminded Harry what he was missing, not having a mum of his own, and as much as it saddened him, he was grateful for the lucky substitution that was Molly Weasley.

Harry was just stowing the parchment away when Snape came around the curtain hiding his hospital bed from prying eyes. The man looked as exhausted as Harry felt.

“Any worrisome dreams, Mr. Potter?” were the first words out of Snape’s mouth. His voice was droll and tired-sounding, making Harry slightly worried.

“Er…no, sir. In fact, I can’t remember dreaming at all last night,” Harry answered, feeling curious now that he realized it. He’d dreamed almost every night about one thing or another, but he honestly couldn’t remember a thing of any dreams the night before, if there had been a dream to remember.

Severus sighed and nodded slowly, his expression grim. He shocked Harry by sitting down at the foot of his hospital bed and running a long-fingered hand over his tired eyes. “Just as I had suspected,” he muttered, offering no further explanation.

But Harry didn’t need a detailed explanation to know that something had happened; something was wrong. “What happened, Severus?”

The use of his first name brought Severus up short as he looked up at his charge. He couldn’t lie to the boy, he deserved the truth. “My cottage in Bristol was ransacked and then destroyed last night,” he paused as Harry gasped. “An alarm was tripped as soon as the intruders stepped foot on the property, but they somehow tweaked my magic to keep others from entering the perimeter of my own wards, including myself. They essentially locked me out using my own defences. Anyways, once I finally got through the wards, everything was gone, and the cottage was nearly burnt to the ground. The Dark Mark was hovering over the wreckage.”

“But I thought they only put up the Dark Mark if they’d murdered someone…?” Harry said, feeling his stomach churn as a million horrible possibilities cropped up in his over-active imagination.

“You’d be correct in thinking so, Harry, and they did indeed murder. When I put out the fire and began investigating, I found the body of Marcus Nott among the wreckage.”

Harry gaped, his newly formed jaw hanging open. Nott was dead? Death Eaters had killed him? “I-I don’t understand, Professor…Why would they…?”

“Why would they kill one of their own? I have many guesses, but no solid facts. Nott could have betrayed the Dark Lord somehow, or perhaps displeased him greatly in some manner. I even entertained the idea of him dying in the fire, but a spell revealed he’d been put under the Cruciatus curse for nearly twelve hours before being hit with the killing curse. The Dark Lord’s magical signature was all over it,” Severus said with a shrug that Harry couldn’t decide was tired or confused as well.

“But I didn’t see anything! Surely if Voldemort was that peeved with Nott, I would have seen something, felt something! I always know when he’s mad…” Harry trailed off, finally figuring out just what happened when Snape gave him a crooked grin that he dared to call proud.

“Not if you were successfully Occluding, Harry. Do not take it that I am blaming you for not forewarning anyone about the attack; I do not blame you. I’m glad you were completely unaware of the situation, because that means you finally have Occlumency down.”

“But your cottage, sir…that was your home,” Harry said slowly, feeling pity rise in his chest. He took a good long look at the man he had spent the last couple of months with, and for once, he saw Snape for what he truly was – a man capable of heartache and despair just like everyone else. Someone who had lost their home – lost everything, because of this stupid war. It pissed Harry off royally to see that man so taken down.

Severus shrugged as he stood up from the hospital bed as he heard Madam Pomfrey bustling around behind the curtain closing off Draco’s bed. “Yes, but I have other properties to replace it. Besides, Hogwarts is my home.”

Harry felt his chest constrict and he tried to blink away the tears that threatened to fall. For once, he knew exactly how Snape felt. He watched as the Potions Professor pulled back the curtain of Draco’s little corner of the infirmary, and sat down beside the bed, looking all the role of a worried father. Oh, how his world seemed to have fractured in such a short amount of time.

“Professor Snape!” came a loud shout from the entrance into the infirmary.

Harry whipped around so fast that he cricked his neck. He rubbed at it gently as he watched a frantic Hermione run straight towards the Potions Master, a crumpled parchment held in her fist.

Severus turned and raised an eyebrow at the bushy haired girl, properly hiding his quickened heart rate by masking his features. Clearly the girl had made some sort of breakthrough. “Yes, Ms. Granger?”

“I’ve been up all night researching what you were telling me about a couple of days ago, the stuff about lingering traces of magical signatures after one performs Legilimency on a person. Well, I think I’ve found something that may help. It says in Meandering Minds that someone who has witnessed a delicate memory in a person’s mind may be able to gain access to said person’s mind, even in the case of unconsciousness or unresponsiveness. It’s actually one of the techniques used by Healer’s to treat victims of Waking Dreams; it allows them to see what the victim see’s in their dream, even as they’re acting it out. It’s a coping mechanism, to help them understand their own dreams and recover from the psychological distress of the Draught. You’ve no doubt used Legilimency on Draco before, right?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide and slightly crazed as she peered at the Potions Professor determinedly.

Severus was slightly taken aback by the onslaught of information, feeling foolish for not finding this himself. It had to do with treating the affects of a potion, how could he have missed that? “Many a time, but what are the determining factors of what qualifies as a ‘delicate memory’?”

“A delicate memory may be one that causes a person emotional distress in the form of grief, sadness, anger, embarrassment – pretty much any strong emotion in great quantities. It has to be something truly traumatizing in one way or another,” Hermione recited, making it sound like a straight quote from a book – which it probably was.

“Does this memory still have to be in the person’s mind?” Severus asked, knowing the perfect memory. However, said memory had been removed from the boy’s mind and still needed to be excised of its curse.

Hermione frowned as she thought back to the dusty tome in the library. “I’m almost positive it still needs to be in the person’s mind. The way you enter depends on latching to the memory as a sort of anchor. If you can get into his mind, you might be able to either reverse the damage, or pull him out of the coma through his subconscious, though the last isn’t recommended unless the person entering isn’t a very skilled Legilimens.”

“No, I should think not. Well, I’ve seen plenty of things in Draco’s mind, but I’m not sure anything could be considered ‘traumatizing’, exactly. His father’s presence may be traumatizing to some, but he was immune to it. Maybe– ”

“I know one that could work, sir,” Harry said in barely a whisper as he sat up in bed. He knew Draco would kill him if he knew what Harry was about to reveal, but this could save his life. But, maybe he didn’t have to tell; after all, wouldn’t Harry have to go in himself since he was the one who saw the memory?

Severus turned to look at Harry, who seemed to be curling in on himself. “Oh? And what memory is this, Mr. Potter?”

Mr. Potter...Snape only really called him that when he was angry, annoyed, or stressed. Harry was pretty sure this time fell under all three of those. “When Draco was teaching me Occlumency, we experimented with reversing the channels, to see if I could Legilimize him wandlessly. Well, it worked, but he didn’t think it was going to and...he let me see a memory that he was trying to hide from everyone. It was...pretty bad, sir. I think it definitely qualifies as traumatizing...” Harry felt his stomach roil as he tried not to call forth the memory in case Snape tried to read him.

Suppressing a shudder of his own, Severus fixed Harry with a curious look. “Has this anything to do with where Draco was after he escaped Bellatrix Lestrange’s clutches?” he asked, almost positive that’s what it was. Of course, he knew Harry was keeping something from him.

Harry flushed as he looked away from the Potions Master and nodded. He wouldn’t tell, he’d promised, he wouldn’t break Draco’s trust. “I can’t tell you though, Professor. I promised him, I even swore on my mother’s grave. It’s something he needs to tell you himself, I’m sorry.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling ten times more exhausted than he had when he first stepped foot in the infirmary that morning. He knew Harry was only trying to protect Draco, but his increased worry made him want to shake the truth out of the damnable Gryffindor. He’d get it out of one of them eventually; he just had to continue to be patient. “Alright, Potter, you don’t have to tell me – right now, at least. Ms. Granger, I’m going to need to see this book you found and all of your notes before we go trying anything. Poppy, is Harry free to leave?”

Madam Pomfrey had been standing there the whole time, watching to conversation as if it were a tennis match. She shook her head a fraction and blinked. “Oh, yes, he’s free to go. His jaw is all healed up!”

“Jaw? What happened, Harry? I’ve been so distracted by this, I completely forgot you were a patient yourself,” Hermione asked as she stuffed the parchment in her hand into her pocket. The poor girl looked dead on her feet, but also very determined.

“Er...Ron kind of...punched me, after I made Ginny cry. I guess I kind of deserved it,” Harry muttered, rubbing at his freshly healed jaw and swearing there was still a bruise there.

Hermione looked extremely saddened as she shook her head slowly. “He’s changed so much; I don’t even know who he is anymore. I’m sorry, Harry; he had no right to hit you,” she whispered, sounding close to tears as she rubbed at her tired eyes.

Before Harry could protest her apology, Snape stepped forward and pulled a potion out of his pocket, handing it to Hermione. “You are not the one who should be apologizing for that foolish boy’s actions, Ms. Granger. The minute you disassociated yourself from the imbecile, you stopped being responsible for his reprehensible actions. Take this, it will help you sleep,” Severus paused as the girl meant to protest, but he held up a hand to cut her off. “No – no more research until you’ve gotten some rest. Harry and I will look at this book while you’re resting. We won’t act on anything without you, however, so rest assured.”

Hermione took the little vile of purple potion and slipped it into her pocket with a sheepish look on her face. She seemed to be in shock due to Snape’s actions and words. “Thank you, Professor. I hope this is it...”

“Me too, Hermione, me too,” Severus muttered as he turned to look at his still-comatose godson. There were so many thoughts swirling around his head – he needed to talk to Abigail and Dumbledore about this new discovery, he needed to talk to the Aurors about how his wards were compromised and make sure the wards around his other properties could not be broken through as well, he needed to finish brewing the potions for the infirmary, and meet with Remus, who he hadn't even looked at twice in the last week or so, about taking over his classes during his recovery times. All this and he hadn’t even slept himself. However, he was used to going days without sleep; it was just a necessity sometimes. And avoiding Lupin, well...that was a necessity, too.

 


You must login (register) to review.
[Report This]


Disclaimer Charm: Harry Potter and all related works including movie stills belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros, and Bloomsbury. Used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made off of this site. All fanfiction and fanart are the property of the individual writers and artists represented on this site and do not represent the views and opinions of the Webmistress.

Powered by eFiction 3.5