30. Facing The Truth

"Hermione, pass the potatoes will ya?"

"Where are they?" 

"Down there by Neville."

She looked to her right, "Neville. Would you please pass the bowl of potatoes?"

"Sure."

A movement in her periphery vision caught her attention. "Oh, there's Professor Priestly."

"So?" commented Ron.

"He's sitting down at the Head Table." She looked opposite toward the main doors as she passed the bowl. "They must have finished with training, but where's Harry?"

"Probably just taking a shower."

"I suppose you're right."

They turned their attention back to their meals and their conversation added to the hum of voices that filled the hall.

Around the time of pudding, the resonance of the voices changed to gasps and Ooohhs, the clinking of cutlery quieted and was interspersed with occasional clanks as several students dropped their utensils.

"What's going on?" Ron looked up from his chocolate gateau to see a sea of faces looking at something behind him. Then he heard someone say, "Is that Harry?"

Ron turned and his heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted him.

Harry was walking slowly up the aisle, making his way toward the Head Table.

His eyes were glaring with ire, his expression - livid. One side of his face was covered in blood, his robes were torn, he was limping and he held his left arm close to his chest.

Several of his friends and members of the D.A. began to jump off the benches and run to his aid.

"Don't touch me!" he ground out and they all stopped. "Get out of my way!" and they responded by backing up to create a pathway.

He continued on with his determined trek until he finally reached the front of the room and stood before the Head Table, directly in front of Professor Solomon Priestly.

"Harry! What happened to you?" Dumbledore stood up, aghast at the sight of the young wizard.

Harry was literally shaking. Was it from anger? Was it from cold? He didn't know and he didn't care. He glared emerald green daggers as he raised his trembling arm and pointed to the twitching man in front of him. "He tried to Portkey me out of here!" 

Time seemed to stop momentarily as those congregated stared on in disbelief - some at Harry, some at Priestly.

 Then all hell broke loose.

The accused wizard jumped up from his chair and started to run for the annex door.

Dumbledore swung his arm in a slashing motion that created strands of ropes that quickly wrapped themselves around Priestly. Both Professors McGonagall and Sprout leapt upon the twitchy wizard and wrestled him to the floor.

Students began to scream, some jumped up on benches and tables to get a better view. Hagrid ran across the dais; his lumbering footsteps nearly caused the structure to give way.

"Silence!" Dumbledore yelled and his voice, magically amplified, echoed around the room. "Everyone stay where you are! Do not move! No one is to leave this chamber!"

Everybody stopped.

Now the noises of the scuffle still taking place between Priestly, McGonagall and Sprout could be heard.

"Allow me Madams," Hagrid offered as he took hold of the struggling wizard who was speaking in garbled words, making no sense at all as he struggled to free himself from the ropes and now Hagrid's firm grip.

"Minerva!" called the Headmaster.

She hurried over as she tucked the few stray hairs back into her bun that had worked their way loose during the struggle. "Yes, Albus?"

"Have the D.A. assist you in getting Mr. Potter up to the hospital wing. Stay with him and don't let anyone enter but myself."

"I'll lock the doors and have the D.A. stand guard," she replied then hurried off to collect her charge.

Ron wrapped his strong arm around Harry, whom was shaking so badly now that he could barely stand. "I've got him Professor," Ron told McGonagall as she approached. Then he turned to his injured friend, "Come on mate ... let's get you fixed up."

The members of the D.A. formed a human shield around Harry. They made their way slowly down the aisle, ordering students to get out of the way and stand back.

Dumbledore then instructed the Prefects to escort the students, by House, back to their common rooms - adding that curfew was in effect immediately.

As students began to file slowly out, the Headmaster hurried over to Hagrid and the still struggling Priestly, and then beckoned to Mr. Filch to join them.

"Argus, please assist Hagrid in taking the Professor to your office. I will contact the Ministry and join you as soon as they arrive."

"With pleasure," drawled the Squib. 

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Severus pulled his cloak closer to him as he crossed the ancient wooden bridge leading to the east entrance of the castle.

He inhaled a lungful of the frigid night air and when he exhaled, his breath created a cloud which swirled about and then dissipated.

He was so relieved, or dare he say happy, that the laboratory was finally set up. All his ingredients: the vials of already brewed and bottled potions, the paraphernalia, everything - it was now all stored away into the cupboards. The cauldrons were set up; he had even tried out the new pewter one and was very pleased with how it had performed.

He crossed under the pergola then slipped in through the worn wooden doorway, down the narrow spiral steps then along the torch lit hallway to its end where a portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung.

"Sssspaahsss" he whispered the one word of Parseltongue he knew, the command form of the verb 'to open'. The portrait responded to reveal a door which Severus unlocked and then stepped into his chambers. 

He shut the door, leaned against it then closed his eyes and sighed in relief. Now that the laboratory was finished and the fifth and seventh years had fairly caught up to where they should be for their upcoming exams, he could finally resume his training with Harry.

He pushed himself away from the door and began to cross the room but stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of the purple envelope hanging suspended in front of the fireplace.

The purple envelope was a private signal from Dumbledore indicating a matter of importance.

Severus crossed over and quickly snatched up the missive, then pulled out a piece of parchment and one small bag of unlocking Floo powder.

He unfolded the parchment and began to read the note. With each word his heart beat faster, so that by the time he'd reached the end it was literally pounding in his chest. He dropped the note and immediately threw the unlocking Floo powder into the Floo.

It blazed up red, signifying the locked Floo, but in a matter of moments the flames changed to green.

"Madame Pomfrey's office!" he yelled then literally leapt into the flames in his pressing need to reach Harry as quickly as possible.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Poppy was just walking into her office when Severus jumped out of her Floo.

"How is he?"

"He's all right Severus," she assured as she set down the tray of vials. "Harry's going to be fine."

"But a fall from that height ... his injuries must be severe."

"Yes they should have been- but they're not, thank Merlin."

"But how ...?"

"When he hit the protective ward," she interrupted his query, "He fell into a tree and then onto some shrubbery."

"What is the extent of his injuries?"

"His left collarbone is badly broken. The tissue surrounding the break is damaged and torn. He has numerous cuts and several contusions. The poor boy is badly shaken by the entire experience ... I must say."

Severus headed straight for the door intent upon seeing Harry, but then he stopped. "Is anyone with him?"

"No. Albus has put a ward around the infirmary; he thought it best until the investigation is completed."

Severus now turned back around to face her. "Does Dumbledore believe there were other perpertrators involved?"

"We don't know; Priestly has been unable to provide any information." She noticed that the man was trembling. "Severus, are you ..." 

"I'm going to stay with him," he said and turned to leave.

"You mustn't wear yourself out," Poppy said and moved closer toward the distraught wizard. "You've only just regained your own health."

"If I tire, I'll rest on the bed next to his."

She touched him lightly on his forearm, "I will return every four hours to administer the doses of Skelegro."

"I can do that ..."

"No," she moved past Severus to look him in the face. "That's my job.You need to take care of yourself."

"I will do my upmost," he said as he looked down the length of the ward and then headed off in that direction.   

Severus placed his footsteps carefully so as not to make a sound and when he reached the privacy screen, he peered around it.

There lay Harry sound asleep, propped up on several pillows and covered with a cloud of soft blankets.

Severus's heart, which had slowed its frantic beating as he spoke with Poppy, now picked up its pace once again.

Was it because of the sight before him? That of Harry injured? Or the blatant realization that if Albus had not erected those protective wards, Harry might very well be in the clutches of the Dark Lord this very moment? Or even worse - dead?

He stepped closer to the bed and gently took hold of the teen's hand. It was cool to the touch, and Severus suddenly felt very protective.

Why didn't Poppy cover this arm? He proceeded to do so with the utmost of care but stopped when he lifted the blankets and saw the teen's left arm, bandaged and bound tightly to his chest. There were scatterings of recently and partially healed bruises and cuts littering his torso.

Severus contemplated what Harry must have experienced: the terror of being Portkeyed against his will, knowing that he would slam into the ward and being powerless to stop it, falling and colliding into branches, then finally hitting the ground.

He turned over Harry's cool hand and saw the remnants of several abrasions and cuts littering his palm; a few of his nails were broken.

He must have grasped at branches, trying to stop his fall.

Severus covered Harry's free arm with the blankets and then pulled them up over his shoulders.

An intense feeling overtook him suddenly; Severus stepped away to the window and drew in a deep breath that shook his body as it left him.

He reached up and felt unfamiliar moisture at the corner of his eye and when he lowered his hand, there sat a single tear perched precariously on the tip of his finger.

Severus couldn't deny this small tangible entity and to what it bore witness: that Harry meant a great deal to him and that he cared deeply for the boy. 

A soft mewl caught his attention and he moved swiftly to sit by the teen's side.

He seemed to be dreaming and his breaths were coming in shallow pants as his head moved slightly from side to side.

 "It's all right. You're safe."

"No..." Harry whined in a whispery voice. "Stop ..."  

Severus took hold of Harry's free hand and began to stoke back his wild hair. "Shhh, you're all right."

Harry's eyes opened and he looked around the darkened room, still disoriented from his nightmare.

"You're in the infirmary. You're safe."

 "Sev?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm right here. Feel my hand."

"I thought I was at the graveyard," he croaked, "Tied to the tombstone. I still feel the rope."

"That's the bandage wrapped around your chest."

It took the injured teen a few moments to fully awaken. "The Portkey," he whispered when he remembered what had happened.

"Yes," Severus confirmed. He squeezed Harry's hand and continued to stroke his hair. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

Despite his calming efforts, the young wizard began to grow more distraught.

"I couldn't stop it." Harry started to tremble, not from fear of his nightmare - but out of frustration. "All my training ... but I couldn't stop it."

Severus sighed heavily and watched as the emerald eyes filled with tears. He wanted to say something to consol the young man, but what? It seemed like his was an impossible situation.  

"I try and I try, but ..." Harry continued.

"I know."

"And now I ..." He'd been thinking that he'd probably have to spend Christmas in the infirmary.

"And now you what?" asked Severus.  

Harry hadn't meant to say it aloud, the words just sort of slipped out. "Nothing," he said and turned his face away in an attempt to hide his tears. "You should get some rest Sir ... I'll be okay."

Severus wasn't fooled; he was too practiced at putting on a brave face. Harry was upset about something other than the attempted kidnapping.

With the connection that existed between them, it took little effort for Severus to slip in subtlety behind Harry's brave front, and when he did he felt an overwhelming sense of being alone during the holidays.

Oh.

Severus sat silently as he contemplated this realization. He had planned a quiet holiday alone, as usual, but perhaps it was time to change all of that. After all, Harry had become very special to him, almost like a son. Even so, he'd continually kept his distance, still at odds with the fact that the young man knew so much about him.

Dare he allow someone into his life? Or was this a moot point.

Severus thought about how frantic he'd felt upon hearing the news of the attempted abduction and then his reaction upon seeing the teen, battered and bruised. Perhaps his question had already been answered; perhaps Harry was already a part of his life.

He gently wiped away a stray tear that had slid down the bruised cheek and Harry looked up questioningly at the unexpected show of affection.

"Harry?" Severus said softly. "This might not be the most appropriate moment, but there was something I wanted to ask you."

"Yes Sir?"

"Severus."

"Sev."

The idea of anyone calling him Sev had always been unacceptable, but coming from Harry - it was rather endearing.

"I wondered if perhaps you might like to join me for Christmas at my villa in Tuscany."

The villa in Tuscany? Christmas with Sev?

"It's protected by a Fidelius charm, so you would be quite safe."

Harry thought about the painting that hung in Sev's side chamber and how he'd always wanted to see the villa.

"Of course if you have other plans ..."

"I don't. I mean ... Yes Sir, I'd like that."

The look of surprise on Harry's weary, battered face instilled a warmth in Severus that he'd never before known, and surprisingly, the idea of sharing Christmas with the teen filled him with a sense of anticipation toward the holiday. However, the thought of saying all of this seemed to be too much and so he settled for, "Good. I'm glad."

As Harry thought about going to Italy and spending the holidays with Severus, his anxiety from his nightmare and the attempted kidnapping slipped away and was replaced with a feeling of calm.

It must have showed in his expression.

"Why don't you try to get some rest now; you look exhausted."

"Do you know if ..." his sentence was interrupted with a yawn, "If the doors are still locked?"

"Yes, they are. Additionally, there is a ward surrounding the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey's Floo is locked and I am going to stay here - by your side."

Harry eyelids felt like lead but despite that he looked up into those black eyes and felt a sense of security wrap itself around him like a blanket. "You would do that? Stay here? With me?"

"Of course I would," Severus said assuredly as he gently brushed back Harry's fringe. "Now close your eyes."

And as soon as Harry did so, he drifted off to sleep.

Severus continued to card his hand through the wild mop of hair. "Oh Harry," he sighed. "Perhaps you are already a part of my life."

~~~~~SH~~~~~