Snape limped away from the Death Eater gathering. The Dark Lord had been in a foul mood to begin with, and as Snape had nothing new to report, he had been one of many to suffer Voldemort’s ’frustration’.

He had a gash on his thigh that was bleeding heavily and burned like the fires of Hades, but he would remedy that soon enough. Still, the pain had his breathing ragged and sweat glistened on his skin. He knew he needed to get back to the castle and quickly, or he would succumb to the blood loss. The undershirt he’d wrapped around his thigh as a bandage was doing little to staunch the flow of blood.

He’d been luckier than Mulciber, he thought, cursing. If someone didn’t manage to get that wizard to St. Mungo’s, he’d be dead by morning.

Snape gripped the wrought iron fence on the edge of the property and tried to steady himself so he wouldn’t splinch. True, he had a port key directly to the headmaster’s office in case of emergency, and he would use it if he had to, but at present, he thought he could manage Apparition. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and spun on the spot.

Half way up to the castle, he considered using that port key, but stubbornly pressed on. He would have to report to the headmaster eventually, but at the moment, he just wanted to nurse his physical, and emotional, wounds in private.

He knew he’d lost Covey. There hadn’t been time to explain, and even if there had been, what would he have said? He couldn’t break his cover no matter what. Her bright smile flashed before his eyes. He viciously cursed the fates. She had been the one bright spot in his dark existence.

He was limping badly now and dripping blood. His sight was beginning to dim. Black spots danced on the peripheries of his vision. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to manage the walk through the castle to his quarters, he unwarded and entered the door at the back of the castle that only he used, slipped into the unused office next door, and floo’d directly to his quarters.

He stepped out of his fireplace, his Death Eater robes still on, his mask in hand, and froze. There, on his sofa, sat Covey, Earl Grey curled happily on her lap. His moment of shocked hesitation cost him.

He reached out for the chair by the fireplace to support himself as his vision winked out. He vaguely registered his knee making painful contact with the stone floor as the world around him faded to black.

“How is he?” the headmaster asked.

“He’ll be right as rain in a moment here, aye?” Covey said confidently, her hands working her magic over the now healed gash in Snape’s thigh.

Dumbledore waved his wand, vanishing the blood that coated Snape’s leg and the bed sheets he now lay on. “Thank you for being here for him, Coventry. It means a lot to me.”

“Tis my pleasure, Albus, ye ken that,” Covey replied with feeling.

“I do,” the headmaster responded, a twinkle in his eye. “Be gentle with him, Coventry. As you know, Severus is a very private and guarded man. He does not tend to accept help graciously. But he is a good man, underneath all the bluster.”

Covey laughed. “Aye, that he is,” she said, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on his brow.

 “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nay,” Covey replied. “An’ thank ye fer everythin’”

“You are most welcome,” Dumbledore said, patting Covey’s shoulder before he left. 

Snape came to slowly with a weight on his chest. As the sound of loud purring met his ears, he realized that Earl Grey had claimed his usual spot. As he became more aware of his body, he recognized a warm tingling sensation in his leg and the cool feel of his cotton sheets beneath him. He was wearing only his skivvies, he realized.

There was also the sound of humming somewhere in the background, a sound he recognized as a familiar balm to his battered soul. As the humming continued, his brain sluggishly began connecting the dots. Humming… healing… Covey….

Snape’s eyes snapped open, half expecting the sound of humming to vanish as reality set in. Instead, Covey stood a few feet away, humming to herself as she arranged a series of potions bottles on his dresser. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

He had sent her away after he’d been summoned. Surely she wouldn’t have returned of her own accord, would she? Maybe Dumbledore had summoned her, but Poppy would have been more than capable of healing him, so that didn’t make sense either.

“Covey?” Snape said softly, bracing himself as she whirled around.

“Sevvie,” she said, her hand over her heart. “Ye startled me. I dinna realize ye were awake.”

Severus studied her as she stood, seemingly awaiting his judgement. “Why are you here?”

He watched as Covey put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Why wouldna I be here?”

“Because I was summoned,” Snape replied.

“Aye, ye were,” she replied.

“But I’m a…”

“Yer a stubborn fool, is what ye are, Sev’rus Snape,” she said. “I ken what ye were b’fore, remember?”

“I know, but…”

Covey raised her hand to silence him. “I only left when ye asked because I figured ye were needin’ yer privacy,” Covey said.” I’ve known Albus a long time,” Covey continued. “He’s a very wise man an’ I knew he wouldna let just anyone teach in his school, or help ta heal Harry Potter.”

Snape’s heart beat a rapid tattoo, hope a sharp thorn in his chest.

Clearing her throat, she continued, “I am also a member o’ the Order o’ the Phoenix. An’ while I donna know everythin’, I do know that we each have a roll ta play, aye?” she added, walking to the bed and sitting beside him.

Severus jumped slightly when Covey picked up his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing each knuckle.

“An’ a good thing I was here, aye? Ye dropped like a sack o’ potatoes when ye came through yer floo.”

Snape watched the witch before him in awe as her brassy façade slipped a little, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of worry for him of all people.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Snape commented.

“I’ve seen a lot worse, lovey,” Covey said.

Snape reached out and covered her hand in his. “Thank you,” he breathed.

“Aye,” she said, a touch of sadness crossing her face.

It wasn’t absolution, Snape knew, but it was acceptance, which was more than he deserved.

“You must be exhausted,” he said, know that he himself was.

“Aye, I am,” she said. “So scoot over, ye bed hog.”

Severus glanced at her in surprise.

“Unless yer feelin’ prudish,” she added.

Snape snorted. “Come here you saucy witch,” he said, shifting over and lifting the covers for her. Earl Grey meowed in protest at being disrupted, but soon resettled himself in his favorite spot.

“Shoo, you damn menace,” Snape said, pushing the feline off of him as he Covey slid into bed beside him. He scooped her closer to his side, and kissed her gently, his lips and tongue saying all the words he wasn’t brave enough to say aloud. It wasn’t long before they broke apart on a yawn that Covey wasn’t able to suppress.

“Get some sleep,” Snape said.

“Aye,” Covey said around another yawn. “G’night, Sevvie.” She settled her head into the crook of his shoulder, flung her arm over his chest, and closed her eyes on a sigh of contentment.

Earl Gray snuck under the covers and curled himself against the hollow of her lower back, purring loudly. “Cheeky fella,” Severus heard her whisper.

Closing his eyes, Snape smiled. How had he gotten so lucky?

Harry awoke to streamers of sunlight shining in through the infirmary window.

Realizing he was up, Madam Pomfrey came over and handed him his morning-after potions: a nutrient potion, anti-inflammatory potion, and a calming draught.

“How are you feeling this morning?” the medi-witch asked.

Harry stretched tentatively, noticing the way that his joints felt looser, freer somehow. “Fine,” he said.

“Your friends have taken to camping outside the hospital wing since I wouldn’t let them in while you were resting. Go ahead and get dressed, and I will fetch them,” she said.

“Thanks,” Harry murmured, getting to his feet and changing from pajamas to regular clothes. His friends arriving the morning after had become their custom, and Madam Pomfrey had taken to letting them speak in his private room at the back in private.

“Hey, mate,” Ron said. “I brought you a muffin. They had your favorite at breakfast today.”

“Thanks!” Harry said, biting into the chocolate chip pumpkin confection.

“How was it?” Hermione asked.

“They worked on my arms and legs,” Harry confided, stretching them out experimentally. “It feels weird,” he commented. “Like they’ve grown a few inches and are really loose or something.”

“So you might grow taller than me,” Ron said.

Harry laughed. “I’ll be happy if I grow taller than Hermione. Hey, how was Hogsmeade yesterday?”

“Not bad,” Ron said.

“We say Mundungus,” Hermione said. “He was doing some shifty business as usual. Said hi when he saw us, but disappeared soon after that.”

Just then the door opened and Healer Cook walked in, beaming at the three of them.

“Good ta see y’all,” Healer Covey said, nodding to them. “I’m Healer Cook, but ye can call me Covey, aye?” she said, extending her hand. “Ye must be Ms. Granger.”

“Yes,” Hermione said, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“An’ ye must be Mr. Weasley, aye?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, shaking her hand as well. “I, ah, guess we should be going,” he said.

“That would be up ta Harry,” Healer Covey said. “I donna mind if ye stay.”

Harry met Ron and Hermione’s gazes and nodded his approval.

“I just wanted ta see how ye were feelin’ today, Harry. Yesterday twas a bit harder than I was expectin’.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “But today I feel good. My joints feel less tight,” he said, holding out his hands and looking at them. “Like I can move more freely, and like they weigh less.” Meeting Healer Covey’s eyes, he said, “I feel lighter.”

“That’s very good,” Healer Covey said, “I’m so glad ta hear it. Would ye mind if I examined ye?”

“No,” Harry said, “go ahead.” This was the easy part, he knew. Just her magic reaching out to touch his, checking to make sure the healing had taken properly.

Harry felt Healer Covey put her hand on his shoulder, a warm tingling spreading down his arm. He shivered involuntarily.

“Does it hurt?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Harry said. “It just tickles a little.”

Healer Covey smiled up at him before returning her focus to her work. She slid her hand down his arm and held his hand loosely. Next she checked his other arm.

“Aye,” she said, “ye have healed very well. I just want ta check yer legs, an’ then ye an’ yer friends are free ta go, aye?”

Harry nodded.

Healer Covey placed her hand on his right thigh and ran her fingers down his leg. She repeated the process on the left leg. “Perfect,” she said. “Ye did great last night, Harry. I know it isna easy.”

Harry swallowed, wishing he could deny it, but he couldn’t. The calming draught would help for a bit, but after it wore off, and especially after seeing the Muggle therapists later today, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d be struggling again.

‘How are ye likin’ yer Muggle therapists, Harry?”

“They’re ok,” Harry said, looking at his feet.

“Just ok?”

“Well,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “They are nice enough. It’s just not the easiest thing to talk about.”

“Aye, I ken that,” Healer Covey said. Harry felt her hand squeeze his. “Give it some time, laddie, it does get a bit easier ta talk about as time goes on, ye ken?”

“Healer Covey,” Hermione ventured. “If it would help any, Ron and I would be more than willing to go to therapy with Harry.”

“Yeah,” Ron chimed in. “If Harry wants us there, were in.”

Healer Covey smiled at Harry. “Ye have yerself some good friends here, aye?”

Harry nodded.

“Tis a great suggestion,” Healer Covey said. “Let’s give Harry some time ta think about it, aye? An’ I will speak ta the therapists about it as well.”

“Thanks guys,” Harry said, after Healer Covey had made her farewells.

“We mean it, Harry,” Hermione said. “We want to help you.”

“Hermione’s right,” Ron said. “And I also want to practice some spells on your aunt and uncle and cousin.”

Harry smiled. “Shall we?” he asked, motioning toward the hospital exit. “I wouldn’t mind doing a few laps on my Firebolt before I have to leave for therapy.”