“I’m worried about Harry,” Hermione said as she ate a late lunch with her husband Ron outside the Ministry of Magic.

“Me too,” Ron said around a bite of fish and chips.

“Maybe we should go home and check on him,” Hermione said. “He’s been spending an awful lot of time in his room, and I just don’t think it’s healthy.”

“Well,” Ron said, “it would help if Snape would see him. I think Harry feels left out.”

“I know he does,” Hermione said. “What if I go and check on Harry, and you stop by Snape and see if Harry can come visit. I think it would ease Harry’s mind.”

“Ugh,” Ron said. “How come I get Snape duty? He listens to you better anyway.”

Hermione smiled. “Because I thought of it first. If Snape agrees, maybe Harry could spend the afternoon with him. I’d feel much better about that than Harry being alone in his room all day again.”

Ron checked the time. “My boss won’t mind if I’m a few minutes late back from lunch.”

“Mine either,” Hermione said. “Why don’t you go on ahead. I just need to send my boss a quick note.” Hermione pulled quill and parchment from her bag. “Meet you at home in about ten minutes then?”

“Yes, dear,” Ron said, softening his reply with a kiss before Apparating away.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work, Weasley?” Draco drawled as he sat at the head of the table, the Daily Prophet open as he ate his lunch.

“Yeah, but Hermione wanted to check on Harry,” Ron said. “He’s been having a really rough time of it ever since Snape sent him away.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Potter is such a drama queen. Tell him to get his arse over here and visit the man.” Draco set down his fork. “Severus doesn’t say as much, but he’s missing Harry, too. Every time someone enters his room that isn’t Harry, his face falls. He tries to hide it, but I’ve known him too long.”

“But I thought Snape sent him away,” Ron protested.

“He did, but not permanently. Potter wouldn’t give him a moment’s rest. You know how Potter gets. But Snape didn’t banish him. He just wanted a couple of hours to rest without Potter hovering over him.”

Ron looked gobsmacked.

Draco stared, realization finally striking. “You mean to tell me that, all this time, Potter’s been moping around feeling sorry for himself?”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but he’s definitely been really down,” Ron said.

Draco shook his head. “I always knew he was an idiot, but really. Severus will be thrilled to see him. He’s been waiting for him to come visit.”

Ron got to his feet. “That’s good news, at least. I best get over to the manor and tell Harry that it was a simple misunderstanding.”

Hermione entered the old manor house through the kitchen, surprised to see fresh eggs and milk on the counter. That was odd. Harry had already brought up the farm’s offerings that morning for breakfast and wasn’t due with more until his late afternoon chores.

“Harry?” Hermione called, knowing that Harry was likely in his room and wouldn’t hear the summons.

She made her way up the stairs to Harry’s wing and knocked. There was no answer. Perhaps he was sleeping. She knocked again and then checked the door--which was locked. She debated if she should bother him, and had almost decided to let him sleep when she felt the briefest shimmer of wards against her fingertips. She placed her hand more firmly against the doorknob and felt it again. Harry might lock his door, but she couldn’t imagine any reason for him to ward it so strongly.

“Harry?” she called again, louder this time, the first flickers of fear entering her mind. “HARRY!”

Just as she was about to raise her wand to dismantle the wards, she heard Ron on the stairs.

“What is it?” Ron asked.

“He’s locked and warded his door. Really strong wards,” she said, hearing the panic in her voice.

Ron raced to her side.

“Open this door at once or we’re coming in!” Ron’s voice bellowed through the house.

A moment later, they both raised their wands to blast through the wards.

“I just spoke with Weasley,” Draco drawled as he set down a cup of tea for Snape. “It appears that Potter has been under the mistaken impression that he’d been banished.”

“So that’s why he hasn’t been here. I wondered,” Snape said, picking up the tea and taking a sip. “He’s more than welcome to visit, I just did not want him constantly underfoot.”

“You don’t have to explain that to me,” Draco said. “I know how Potter gets.”

Focused on her work, Hannah dragged a metal object along the arch of Snape’s left foot. “Can you feel that?” she asked.

Snape closed his eyes, hoping against hope to feel some sensation somewhere in the lower half of his body. He knew it would take time, that he couldn’t expect results immediately, but the thought of being paralyzed for the rest of his life was more than a little daunting.

Just then, bright light flashed against his eyelids. He snapped his eyes open to find a bright, silvery otter Patronus heading straight for Hannah.

“Come quickly. Harry’s critical.”

Before Snape even made the connection between the otter and Hermione Granger-Weasley, he recognized her voice. Except it wasn’t her normal voice, it was one strained with panic and clogged with emotion.

Instinctively, he tried to sit up, realizing only as he did so that he was unable. He let out a grunt of pain and cursed loudly.

Meanwhile, Draco had grabbed Hannah’s arm and whispered some quick spells. “Go,” he said, “I’ve dropped the anti-Apparition wards. I’ll follow shortly.”

Hannah grabbed her healer’s kit and Apparated on the spot.

“Draco,” Snape called.

“I’m right here,” Draco said, grasping Snape’s outstretched hand.

“Go and find out what is wrong with Harry. Then come back and tell me.”

“You’ll be all right?” Draco asked.

“Of course, just go!” Snape said, feeling panic course up his spine.

With a nod and a twist, Draco was gone as well.

Draco Apparated outside Potter’s house and raced up the front walk. The door was wide open, surely left that way from Hannah’s rushed arrival. Once inside, he called out but heard no answer. He rushed toward the staircase, checking rooms as he went. The kitchen, dining room, sitting room, and main foyer were all empty. Unless Harry was injured in the stables, the most likely place for him to be was his bedroom. He decided to check there first.

What he saw when he reached the scorched and broken bedroom door nearly stopped his heart. Harry was slumped over in the window seat, his head hanging at an odd angle. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was open, his lips blue. And his skin was deathly pale--at least the parts of it that weren’t covered in the copious amounts of blood that painted the grisly scene a dark dizzying red.

Promptly closing his palate, Draco breathed through his teeth in an attempt to block out the sickly strong scent of blood.

He took in Granger’s tear-stained face, Ron’s ghostly white countenance, and Hannah’s frantic movements. Stepping into the room, he could see Hermione and Ron holding opposite ends of a blood-soaked towel against one of Potter’s forearms while Hannah worked frantically on the other. Empty potion vials littered the blood-splattered floor.

“We really should take him to St. Mungo’s,” Hannah said, and Draco had the impression it wasn’t the first time she’d made the suggestion.

“We can’t,” Hermione lamented. “He’d never want that. The publicity alone…”

“As much as I hate to say this, Harry’d rather die at home then go to St. Mungo’s,” Ron said. Draco couldn’t help but agree.

Hannah sighed. “Help me lay him on the floor.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Draco asked, stepping fully into the room.

“Oh, Draco, thank Merlin you’re here,” Hannah said. “Go and search Severus’s stores. I need all of the blood replenishing potion you can find.”

As Draco made for the door, Hannah shouted, “And, Merlin help us, Unicorn’s Blood if you can find it.”

That one ingredient made Draco’s heart race and sweat break out over this body. There was only one reason that a healer used Unicorn’s Blood--and that was to tether a grievously injured and dying patient to life. It was an incredibly rare and expensive ingredient as it was only suitable for use if it was given willingly by a unicorn. If it was obtained by force, it would carry a dark curse the likes of which no healer would dare touch. Hence, it was one that was not regularly stocked in a home potions cabinet. But Snape was a Potions master who liked to experiment and there was a slight chance he might actually have some. For Potter and for Snape’s sakes, Draco hoped he did.

Forty-five minutes later, they were all shaking and sweating, sticky with Harry’s blood. Harry’s heart had stopped twice and it had taken all of Hannah’s healer’s training and their combined magic and efforts to resuscitate Harry and keep him alive.

Hannah dragged the back of her hand against her forehead, leaving a streak of blood behind. “I think he’s as stable as can be hoped for at present.”

“We should get him into bed,” Hermione offered.

“I’ll lift him,” Ron said.

“Wait.” Everyone glanced toward Draco. “As soon as Severus finds out what’s happened here, he’s going to demand to be by Harry’s side.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Hermione said. “Harry has been a mess without him. Having Severus here could make all the difference.”

“Should we move Snape’s bed in here then?” Ron asked, glancing around to judge the space afforded them.

“No,” Hermione said. “Put him in Harry’s bed. It’s best if they are close together for now. We can always bring in another bed later.”

“Severus’s therapists can see him here as easily as they can see him at my place,” Draco said. “And as they are already under strict secrecy contracts, Harry’s condition can be added easily enough.”

“Having them both in the same place would make it easier on me as well,” Hannah concluded.

“Right,” Draco said. “I need to go tell Severus what’s going on. I’m sure he’s going spare. But first, we need to clean Potter up and get him into bed. Then we need to clean ourselves up,” Draco said, as everyone looked down at their limbs and blood-splattered clothing, “as well as this room.”

“I can clean Harry up,” Ron volunteered.

“I’ll help,” Draco said. “Hannah, why don’t you go take a quick shower. Use Harry’s en suite bathroom in case we need you.”

Hannah hesitated but finally her shoulders sagged. “I’ll be quick. Undress Harry fully before you put him to bed.”

“Let me clear off the bed and put on fresh bed linens first,” Hermione said, using magic to relocate Harry’s dress robes and the many scrolls to a chair across the room. Then she used her wand to strip and remake the bed to avoid sullying the clean sheets with blood. “There,” she said. “I’ll shower as fast as I can.”

Ron’s mouth was pinched as he tried to remove Harry’s clothing.

“Accio scissors,” Draco said, grabbing a soaring pair of them out of the air and handing them to Ron. “His clothes are already ruined, Weasley, just cut them off. I’ll get a bucket of soapy water and some flannels.”

Together, Ron and Draco removed Harry’s clothing and soaped him clean, being particularly careful around the wounds on his arms. Hannah returned, freshly showered, and bandaged his arms while Ron and Draco finished bathing Harry’s lower body. Blood had seeped through all of his clothing, leaving only the undersides of his feet untouched.

By unspoken agreement, Ron and Draco lifted Harry and carried him to the bed. Magic just seemed too impersonal when their friend’s very life hung in the balance. Hannah pulled back the covers as Ron and Draco settled Harry into bed. Hannah cast a warming charm first, and then placed several monitoring charms and an indicator beacon over the bed before covering him back up and collapsing into a chair.

“I’ve got Harry now,” Hannah said. “Why don’t you two go shower. Bring Severus back with you, Draco.”

“What about that?” Ron asked, pointing to the blood-drenched window seat and the trails of blood that ran down the wall to pool on the floor.

“I’ll take care of it,” Hermione said as she strode back into the room, her skin clean and shiny, her hair piled into a wet knot atop her head. Raising her wand, she conjured a Japanese screen to block the area from view.

“You look like shit, Abbott,” Draco observed.

“Thanks,” she said, sarcasm clear in her voice.

“You can’t do everything,” Draco said, looking critically between Hannah and Harry. “We are going to need another couple of healers, at least until Potter is out of the woods. Do you know of anyone we can trust?”

Hannah thought about it a moment. “Yes, I can think of a couple good and discreet healers. I’ll send them a Patronus.”

“Good,” Draco said. “I’ll be back shortly.”