A Life Unsettled by JAWorley

No one was saying anything to him. No scolding from Poppy about not ensuring his son had been eating, no soft or stern disappointment from Albus that Severus had treated his son in such a way as to send him into a deep depression. There was just nothing. Pomfrey had been administering spells and potions to the frail frame lying unconscious on the bed, Dumbledore had come and gone without a word, and Minerva... Minerva had contacted the Malfoys to let them know what had happened, not caring if Severus approved or not. I do, he thought quietly to himself when a letter from Lucius arrived the next day inquiring about Harry's health, I do. As if that was any consolation. It's a little late to care now, isn't it? What if he hadn't gotten there in time... what if Harry had killed himself?

He had been at the boy's bedside since had carried him there and laid him down gently. He listened to Poppy's diagnosis and fought with himself internally in an epic way about the way things had happened. You are not good enough for him, he had to remind himself every time he thought of taking the boy home for him to recover there. You have already failed him, and will continue to do so in every way. The side that wanted to leave this place with his son fought back valiantly however. Do you want to be part of the cure, or continue to be part of the disease? If you take him, you can try to repair some of the damage you have so foolishly inflicted. And if you do not... then you cannot stay here if he is to continue school because you will only cause more damage by ignoring him.

Hand over his eyes as he sat hunched in the wooden chair next to Harry's bed in the early evening sun, he sighed and closed his eyes.

"You haven't slept Severus."

He opened his eyes and peered out around his hand to see Pomfrey checking Harry's vitals again. He cleared his throat.

"I uh..." he shook his head, at a loss for words for the first time in so long. "I don't know what to do." His voice was quiet and without direction.

She eyed him carefully for a long moment, before responding. "He's very ill Severus. The prolonged depression and lack of a consistent diet has opened up his immune system to the Wizarding Influenza. He cannot go back to the Muggles he lives with because they will not know how to take care of him in his current condition. He is welcome here for the summer, but given the circumstances, I do not think it would be good for stay, and neither does the Headmaster."

When Severus didn't respond, she continued, "Minerva is considering taking him home with her tomorrow if the Weasley's decline to take him in."

Leaning further forward and running a hand through his hair he said, "They will not take him. Two of their children have not been exposed to the virus and Molly will not risk the health of her children. Mr. Weasley has also made it clear that he will not tolerate his former best friend now that his parentage is different than previously thought."

She nodded. "Minerva it is then. I'll send a message down to her this evening after dinner so that she can prepare a room for him."

"And that's it then?" he asked, looking up to meet her eyes.

She surveyed him quietly again and nodded. "As far as I know, there are no other available options, so yes, that is it then. And I suggest you go and get some sleep before you end up here in Harry's condition. It will be better if you're not here when he wakes in any case."

Too tired to truly consider what she said, he stood and obeyed, taking his leave to return to his quarters where a soft warm bed beckoned him after such an emotional 24 hours. Despite exhaustion though, he returned to his office, where he promptly spied a crumpled piece of parchment on the floor where Draco had left it the night before.

Unsure if he wanted to know what was inside, he picked it up and was surprised to find the name Dad, written carefully on the outside. He had perhaps expected an explicative instead of such a personal term. Curiosity finally drew him in and he found his breath caught as he sat down in the chair Draco had occupied the night before.

‘Dad. I loved you and you didn't even know it. I just wanted to apologize for being so unworthy of everything. I never meant to be a burden on you or mum. I wish things could have been different. I wish I could have deserved your love. Please don't let Draco feel bad over what I did. I know he's been watching over me.'

I am the disease, he concluded, heart sinking. I have been the disease to this child, the one to eat him up and spit him out time and again. Disheartened he shook his head, knowing he was just like his own father had been to him, with the exception that Harry had taken things harder than Severus had as a child. Severus' heart had grown cold and calloused, but Harry's had grown soft and had been ripped in two, so much so that he felt he could no longer deal with the burden alone. And when he had asked for help dealing with things, Severus had turned him away.

An unbidden thought crept into his mind then, eating at him like the disease that had once tried to consume him as a child. ‘Here lies Tobias J. Snape.' That was all his father's lonely tombstone read, set apart in a dark graveyard alone. There had been no funeral or memorial service, nor had there been any mourners. That is where diseases end up, he reminded himself. Just an empty memory, unwanted for all the pain it was worth. Just an ugly memory best forgotten.

And Severus did not want to be forgotten. Aside from the fact that he did want somebody to care for him as Lily once had, he also wanted somebody to care for. He wanted Harry, and he wanted to be everything the opposite that his own father had been to him.

Crumpled paper still in hand, he rose, determined to make things right.

* * *

"I really don't think this is a good idea Severus, the Headmaster will not approve."

"The Headmaster does not hold parental or custodial rights to my son," Severus said, deeply ashamed inside that they now thought him incapable as well as a hazard to Harry's health. It was no business of theirs, he tried to tell himself, before being reminded that for a long time they were the ones caring for his son, both before he knew and before he was willing.

Poppy tsked and left the room before returning with a number of potions and other phials.

"You know as well as I that I can't do anything for the depression, I'll charge you with undoing what you've done. But the influenza I can help. He's to get one dose of the blue bottle with every meal, one of the red before bed, and one of the green when he's nauseous, but no more than twice a day."

Severus nodded as he took the potions and packed them into a small suite case made especially for housing fragile potion bottles.

"He'll be weak for a while yet because the virus is unkind on his system. When he starts gaining strength back you'll know he's recovering, but it may be a week or more before you see any real change. My guess is that he's been feeling the effects of the virus for at least two weeks already."

Nodding again, Severus gathered Harry's wand and glasses off of the bedside table and looked around to verify that he had not missed any other belongings. He had spent the evening packing and going through his son's things in Gryffindor tower and had already sent them ahead through the floo to his home outside of Letham so that he could gather his son in the morning before Minerva got the chance. And now it was finally time to do what he should have done long ago.

"Harry." A gentle shaking roused the boy from a deep sleep, and he cracked his eyes long enough to see his father standing over him, gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's time to go."

"Where?"

"Home."

Frowning as he tried to swallow but found himself unable because his throat was so dry, Harry cleared his throat instead and asked weakly, "Is this a dream?"

Severus shook his head, and Harry closed his eyes again, wishing never to wake up from this one, wonderful dream.