Harry opened his eyes, the daylight assaulting his consciousness as if someone were hammering nails into his skull. Groaning softly, the teen shut his eyes once more, trying to recall why he felt as if he had been hit by a brick wall and then trampled on by a herd of hippogriffs. He heard voices speaking around him, but it felt as if his ears were filled with water and he couldn’t tell if they were speaking beside him, above him, below him or if they were rooms away. He tried to make out what they were saying but he couldn’t make out anything clearly, and trying caused the pain in his head to erupt even further.

He exhaled slowly, wanting to rub his eyes, maybe shield them from the light so he could open them and try to figure out where he was, but it felt as if his entire body was made of lead. Harry wasn’t sure if he could move if his life depended on it. Oh, how he hoped his life wouldn’t depend on it.

The Gryffindor’s head gave a particularly painful throb as he felt himself being forced into a sitting position, and even with his eyes shut it felt like everything around him was spinning at high speeds. He felt a vial pressed against his lips and he instinctively opened his mouth, nearly choking as a bitter liquid assaulted his tongue.

Harry felt himself being lowered back onto his back and was aware that the voices were speaking once more, and this time the words were slightly less garbled.

“What has been given to him?”

“The draught of life, he was completely unresponsive when I got to him, two blood replenishers, two pain relievers and a fever reducer. I’ve just given him the second pain reliever, he is starting to regain consciousness.”

“How long has he been unconscious?”

“13 hours since…the incident…and another 2 since he took the mind connecting potion.”

As Harry listened to the voices he now recognized as Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape, bits and pieces of the previous night started to trickle back into his stream of consciousness. The potion. The vision. Snape’s torture. The Avada.

Harry quickly pushed himself into a sitting position despite his body’s protests and the vertigo that threatened to empty his stomach. “Voldemort.” He gasped, having a hard time catching his breath as he was overcome with anxiety, “Is he…?” Once again, the light was blinding to the teenage boy and he shut his eyes, pressing his hands against his face.

“Yes.”

Snape’s smooth voice penetrated Harry’s ears, and moments later Harry felt his hands being pried from his face. He moaned softly, trying to keep his hands in place to keep as much of the light out as possible, and tried to make sense of what had just been said, although he was having a hard time forming any coherent thoughts.

“Breathe, Harry. Breathe.” Severus instructed, finally succeeding in removing Harry’s hands and placing them at the teen’s side while pushing him back into a reclining position, “Relax and breathe, you stubborn child.”

“Light.” Harry groaned, struggling against Snape’s grip to shield his eyes, “Hurts.”

Through his closed lids, Harry could see the brightness recede and he blinked open his eyes once more, his eyes still sensitive to the dimmer light but no longer excruciatingly painful. His chest seemed to loosen as well and soon he was able to take a few deep breaths.

“Congratulations, Mr. Potter.” Severus said quietly, “Through the thoughtless, reckless, purely Gryffindor scheme that you and Draco concocted, you managed to kill Voldemort. One can only hope he remains dead this time.”

Harry flinched at the Professor’s cold tone. He hadn’t been expecting parades and a holiday in his honour for what he had accomplished, but he had been expecting at least a ‘well done’ from the professor.

“Harry!”

Harry struggled to sit again as he heard Draco’s voice, a bit surprised to hear an absolute lack of malice in the Slytherin’s tone. Whatever Draco wanted to say, however, was cut off by the sharp tones of the two adults in the room.

“Draco, didn’t I tell you to wait for me downstairs?” Snape snapped tersely at the same time as the healer sternly directed, “Mr. Malfoy, out this instant!”

With a scowl and a few choice words that Harry was quite certain were intended to be heard, Draco stormed off, his loud footsteps echoing up the stairwell.

“The diagnostic charms indicate low magical levels, exhaustion and malnutrition. A few meals and rest should fix him nicely and he’ll be as good as new by the end of the week.” Madam Pomfrey told Severus, looking down on Harry in exasperation, “There are some students that I never encounter, and then there’s the ones who should reserve their own bed in the hospital wing…”

“Thank you, Poppy, for coming out to check on him.” Severus replied, ushering the woman towards the door, “Any news on the headmaster?”

“He is still unconscious, we still haven’t been able to discern which curse Yaxley used on him and who knows how long Yaxley had been impersonating him…when I think of the information he must have had access to and the potential for disaster…” Poppy said fretfully as Severus walked her downstairs, “You may be angry with the boys for the methods in which they used, but had Voldemort lived on, the result for our side would have been disastrous. I doubt Albus would have survived much longer locked away in his chambers. “

Severus nodded grimly as he held out the pot of floo powder and bid the healer farewell, turning his attention to Draco, who sat with indignant silence on a chair near the window.

“Come upstairs, we have much to discuss.”

“You’d think we had joined the Dark Lord, the way you are acting.” Draco hissed, although he stood and followed his godfather upstairs, “We deserve an Order of Merlin for what we’ve done and all you can do is scowl. If it weren’t for us, you would have died there.”

“It is because of what you’ve done that Harry nearly died.” Severus replied sternly, “I expect stupidity from the Gryffindors, should I try to have you re-sorted? None of my Slytherins should have given this plan even an ounce of consideration. It was reckless and dangerous, you could have--”

“He was going to kill you! He nearly succeeded. If Harry and I hadn’t used the potion, you would have died! I cannot believe you are angry that we saved your miserable life!” Draco yelled, his voice hoarse with emotion as he continued, “I was worried about you, I didn’t want to lose you!”

Severus shook his head with a frown, “You don’t even understand why I’m angry with you two. Do you really think I feel my life is worth more than Harry’s?”

“Well his life certainly isn’t worth any more than yours!” Draco insisted angrily, stopping outside of the door of the bedroom he and the Gryffindor shared, “I don’t want either of you to die, but if we hadn’t have acted, you would have died and we would have been stuck here, alone, wondering what happened to you. Because of what we did, both of you lived, it’s as simple as that. I wasn’t trying to trade your life for Harry’s, and as unorthodox as our plan was, it worked!”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly and silently counting to twenty to try and suppress his own anger. Obviously Draco was not able to understand the point of view of a mature adult, and it would do no good to yell about it any longer, to do so would just flare both of their tempers until they would inevitably say something they didn’t mean.

“Are you going to yell at Harry too?” Draco asked, his hand on the doorknob, “Because I think he’s been through enough already and deserves better from you, all things considered.”

Severus glared at Draco, opening the door and ushering the blonde in. He waited for Draco to take a seat, surprised that his godson had chosen to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed. Clearly, the two were getting along much better here than they did at school. He studied both boys for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t thankful that his life had been spared, or that they cared enough to concoct such a dangerous scheme to rescue him, but he couldn’t condone such dangerous and foolish measures.

The professor took a step towards the boys, his arms crossed, “I am very disappointed in the two of you.”

“What?” Harry asked, surprise and confusion evident on his face, “Disappointed?”

Severus sighed, fixing the boys with a stern glare, “Draco has already heard an earful about this particular subject, but I will say it in front of you as well, Harry. I never want to see such a reckless, foolish stunt from either of you again. Under no circumstances are you to risk your life, especially when you have no way to know the consequences of your actions or a means to summon help should the need arise. Do you have any idea how I would have felt if I had lost you, Harry? Draco, do you have any idea of how you would feel if Harry had died? No one your age should feel that sort of guilt!”

“Sorry, sir.” Draco said sullenly, knowing that arguing would get him nowhere at the moment.

“I’m sorry.” Harry replied tiredly, looking properly chastised. He hadn’t considered the way Snape would have felt if he returned home only to discover Harry dead. He shivered slightly, “We were just so worried about you, we thought if we could figure out where you were…”

“You would have done what? Ambushed Voldemort’s base? You do realize that the three of us are at the very top of his target list; we would have all been dead and the precautions we have taken this summer would be for naught.”

“We hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Harry mumbled, looking away from the potions master guiltily, “Sorry.”

Severus felt his anger deflating rapidly, and if he had to be honest with himself, he had been feeling more fear than anger at any rate. He couldn’t even begin to describe to the boys the panic he felt when Draco had told him Harry was unresponsive and presumably dead, and he never wanted to be faced with that heart-gripping combination of panic and fear again. He exhaled slowly and shook his head slightly, deciding that the speech he had been preparing for the two boys wasn‘t absolutely necessary, “Just promise me you will never do anything like this again.”

“I promise.” the two teens said in unison. Harry looked like he wanted to say more, but was cut off by a wide yawn.

Severus motioned for Draco to rise, “Draco, come assist me with the potions Harry will be needing. Harry, get some sleep.”

“But I’ve been sleeping.” the Gryffindor complained, although his voice was laced with fatigue and his eyes were already starting to grow heavy.

Severus smiled lightly, knowing Harry would probably be asleep before the two Slytherins even made it downstairs, and turned out the lights before shutting the door behind them.

Once alone in the hallway, Draco looked back at the bedroom for a moment before softly saying, “There’s something else I think you should know about Harry.”

~*~

Severus closed the door to the potions lab, turning to Draco in concern, waiting for the younger boy to speak. He could tell that whatever news Draco had to share was serious, although he had no idea what the boy could possibly say. Had they gotten into some sort of trouble during his captivity?

Draco clenched his hands into tight fists, dreading Severus’s reaction to the information he was about to reveal. He knew it was necessary, Harry’s self-injury could easily turn into something more serious, especially since the Golden Boy seemed to think his only purpose in life was to destroy Voldemort. With the Dark Lord gone, Draco was more worried than ever about what Harry may do.

“I wanted to tell you about this the day that you were taken.” Draco began, his voice trembling slightly. He felt like he was betraying the Gryffindor, despite his good intentions, and he found himself reluctant to break the delicate stand of trust that had developed between the two students since they had been living together. The Slytherin took a steadying breath, trying to organize his thoughts, “Harry is quite…well, distraught about those who have been killed, especially those who he had seen killed through his visions.”

“Obviously.” Severus said dryly, wondering where Draco was heading with this speech, since it had been blatantly clear that Harry was more than just distraught by the losses that had taken place this summer.

Draco frowned, trying to find an eloquent way to say what needed to be said. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided to just go ahead and say it without worrying about stating it delicately, “More than distraught. I found him in the bathroom one day, bleeding. He had been using a broken mirror fragment. He got defensive, and then the cuts just disappeared.”

The blonde boy sighed, “Last night, when he was in the middle of his vision, I saw his arms again and there were more cuts. They looked fresh.”

“Are you saying that Harry has been cutting himself? On purpose?” Severus asked, a mixture of worry and repulsion churning through his midsection, “Was it just those two times?”

Draco looked away, shivering slightly and looking quite guilty as he exposed his roommate’s secrets, “I don’t think so. He locks himself in the bathroom a lot, I didn’t know why at first, I thought maybe just to be away from me?, but I think that’s what he has been doing.”

Draco crossed his arms, hating that he had ratted Harry out although he knew it had to be done. He couldn’t stand by and watch Harry self-destruct, if the Gryffindor did succeed in taking his life, that would make Draco equally responsible for letting it go on without seeking help. On the other hand, he knew this would do irreparable damage to the friendship they had begun to forge. Tears filled his eyes and he furiously blinked them back, wondering why he was feeling so Gryffindorish--or would crying be more of a Hufflepuff trait?

Severus, on the other hand, was stunned into silence, unable to wrap his mind around what he had just been told. Harry? Self-injury? There was no way, Draco had to be mistaken. Yes, Harry was withdrawn and depressed. Yes, Harry had not been eating or sleeping properly. But had things really progressed this far? How could he have not seen signs of this? He studied Draco, looking for some indication that this was a lie or a horrible, twisted joke of sorts and felt his stomach drop when he could find no such sign. Without another word, he spun on his heel and headed back upstairs to get a look at these cuts for himself. Surely they would have shown up on the medical scans that he and Poppy had both conducted?

He stopped at the entrance to the boys’ room, realizing his hand was trembling as he reached for the doorknob. He was vaguely aware of Draco’s presence behind him, and he forced himself to get a grip and remain calm. There was no need to panic yet, Draco could still be wrong. He took a steadying breath and pushed the door open startling the dozing young wizard.

Without an apology or greeting, Severus quickly made his way to the Gryffindor’s bed, “Show me your arms.”

Harry shut his eyes with a hiss of irritation, and after a few seconds, he glared venomously at Draco, who stood sheepishly in the doorway. The hurt of betrayal was clear in Harry’s voice as he ignored Severus’s request, instead asking his new friend one angry, pain-filled question, “How could you?”