The next morning arrived slowly, the light fluttering into Severus's window. He opened his eyes and sighed deeply, not wanting the day to start already. The comfort of sleep had been a solace, but he knew that the harsh reality of the day was unavoidable.
His body protested as he rose from the bed, the dull ache of exhaustion still clinging to his bones. Nevertheless, he moved around his quarters with practised ease, the familiarity of the routine bringing some semblance of normality to the start of his day.
Once he was dressed in his usual black robes, he glanced once at the mirror, taking in his stern, pallid reflection. His eyes, darker than the stormiest of nights, seemed to hold a thousand thoughts, their depths revealing nothing of the worry that lurked within him.
Satisfied, he gently knocked on Harry's door, not wanting to rouse the boy if he was still sleeping. When Harry answered with a quiet 'come in', he opened the door slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle the boy.
Inside, he saw Harry sitting on the side of his bed, already dressed for the day. His glasses were perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, and his hair was as untidy as ever.
"I trust you slept well, Potter?" Severus asked, his voice devoid of the harshness it usually held when addressing the boy.
Harry shrugged, his green eyes reflecting his exhaustion. "Alright, I guess."
Severus gave a nod of understanding, his gaze lingering on Harry for a moment longer before he stepped out of the room. He was relieved to see the boy awake and dressed, even though he could tell that Harry was still not at his best.
"Come out when you're ready," Severus called over his shoulder. "I'm going to order breakfast. You'd better eat something." With that, he exited the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.
Once in the kitchen, Severus called to one of the house elves that served Hogwarts. "We require two bowls of oatmeal. One with a touch of brown sugar and raisins mixed in. The other one, plain. Please, bring them to the table in my quarters."
He hoped that a gentle meal like oatmeal would be palatable for Harry's weak stomach. With the house elf bustling away, he moved towards the dining table and began setting up the silverware. He took a moment to glance towards Harry's door, reassuring himself that the boy would come out on his own accord.
After a few minutes, their breakfast appeared on the table. Severus, having just finished setting the table, turned to see Harry shyly emerging from his room. His green eyes looked weary but willing.
"Come, Potter," Severus said, motioning for Harry to join him at the table. "Please, have a seat."
Harry moved towards the table, a slight grimace on his face. Severus could tell that the boy wasn't feeling well, but he hoped that a good meal might improve his mood and strength.
They ate in silence, the only sound being the clink of spoons against the bowls. Severus watched as Harry poked at his oatmeal, lifting spoonfuls to his mouth, but never really eating much. Though the boy had consumed more than he had at previous meals, it still wasn't enough for Severus's liking.
A sigh escaped Severus as he rose from his chair and moved towards the cabinet where he kept a supply of potions. Selecting one of his last nutrition potions, he uncorked it and returned to the table. He wordlessly pushed the potion across the table towards Harry.
Harry looked at the potion with mild disdain, but didn't protest. He picked up the vial and studied it for a moment before looking up at Severus with a questioning glance.
"Do you have an upset stomach, Potter?" Severus asked, his dark eyes boring into Harry's.
Harry merely shrugged, his gaze dropping back to the potion in his hand. The lack of response from the boy was concerning.
"Are you feeling alright?" Severus tried again, his voice softer than usual.
Again, Harry just shrugged, refusing to meet Severus's gaze. Concern gnawed at Severus as he watched the boy. Harry had always been stubborn and resilient, but this was different. The usual spark in his eyes was noticeably absent. Severus couldn't help but feel a pang of worry in his chest.
"Potter," Severus began, deliberately injecting a semblance of humor into his voice, attempting to lighten the foreboding atmosphere that hung in the room. "It is quite customary to consume the potion, not merely to study its aesthetic appeal."
Harry's gaze finally met his, an eyebrow arching quizzically above his glasses. But the corners of his lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile painting his face. It was small, barely there, but it was progress.
"And, to alleviate your concern," Severus continued, his voice holding an undertone of teasing he seldom used, "I assure you that I haven't resorted to poisoning my students. I daresay I won't start now."
At this, Harry gave a soft chuckle, a warm, genuine sound that pierced through the tension like the first rays of sunshine after a storm. It offered Severus a fleeting sense of relief, a moment of solace amidst the storm of worry that clouded his mind.
Harry nodded and raised the vial to his lips. He drank it down in one go and grimaced slightly. The potion wasn't known for its pleasant taste.
"Thank you," Severus murmured, eyeing the boy carefully. "Now, if you can manage a few more bites of oatmeal..."
Harry managed to force down a few more mouthfuls before pushing the bowl away. "I can't eat anymore," he admitted, looking slightly guilty.
"That's sufficient for now," Severus reassured him. "Try to get some homework done, Harry. I believe there's still a fair bit of it that requires your attention."
Harry nodded and moved to retrieve his books and parchment. He set himself up at the coffee table just as he had the previous night, quill poised over a half-finished essay.
Severus watched him for a moment, the image of the boy so engrossed in his work brought a strange comfort. He wanted to tell Harry about Pomona's upcoming visit but decided against it. Harry had enough to contend with already, there was no need to add to his worries prematurely.
An elf appeared then, delivering a letter which Severus quickly recognized as being written by Remus Lupin. Accepting it with a nod, Severus couldn't help but wonder what news the letter brought.
He glanced once more at Harry, ensuring that the boy was indeed absorbed in his work, before turning his attention to the parchment in his hand. The wax seal bearing the symbol of the Order was a mark of urgency
With meticulous care, Severus broke the seal and unfolded the letter. His eyes swiftly scanned the neat handwriting, searching for the information he hoped would bring some light to Harry's plight.
"Dear Severus," the letter began, "Your note regarding Harry has left me deeply troubled. I have to confess that I, too, have noticed certain behaviors concerning food during my year at Hogwarts and when he was staying with us at Grimmauld Place, though at the time, I attributed it to the fact that Lily, too, was quite the fussy eater during her youth.
However, I cannot ignore your observations. Upon reflection, I am beginning to piece together a more troubling pattern. Harry indeed seemed to eat less after returning from summer breaks with his relatives, and, in retrospect, he had a marked decrease in appetite right before departing to Privet Drive each year.
Considering his situation with the Dursleys, I wonder if his disinterest in food is more tied to them than we originally thought. We've always been aware that his relationship with his relatives has been less than ideal. However, I had never considered that it could manifest in this manner.
I trust you will keep me updated regarding Harry's condition. Please, if there's anything more I can do, don't hesitate to reach out.
May you find strength and courage in these trying times,
Remus"
Severus read and reread the letter, digesting its contents. A sudden realisation washed over him - for all these years he had dismissed Potter's obvious discomfort with his relatives as a product of the boy's over-dramatic tendencies. The possibility of something as serious as neglect or malnutrition never once crossed his mind.
He gave a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. The boy's predicament was more complicated than he had initially thought. There was definitely something going on at the Dursleys, something revolving around food. It worried him, more than he'd like to admit.
His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a knock on his quarters door. Swiftly, he folded Remus' letter and stuffed it into his pocket. The last thing he needed was for Harry to stumble upon it.
He rose from the table and approached the door, opening it to reveal Pomona Sprout. Her smile was warm and sincere, a gentle contrast to his stern demeanor.
"Good morning, Severus," Pomona greeted, her eyes darting briefly to Harry who was engrossed in his work. "I thought I might spend a bit of time with Harry, if you don't mind. Perhaps we could discuss some Herbology or even just enjoy a friendly chat."
Severus understood the true purpose of her visit – to coax Harry into agreeing to the scan. The importance of the task was not lost on him, and he felt a wave of gratitude for Pomona's delicate handling of the situation.
"Of course, Pomona," Severus responded, stepping aside to allow her entry. "Your company is always welcome."
He watched as Pomona made her way over to Harry, who looked up from his parchment with surprise. Severus took that moment to make his announcement.
"I'll be in the lab, should either of you require me," he said, his gaze lingering on Harry. The boy nodded in understanding and Severus turned to leave, a sense of unease tugging at him. It wasn't easy leaving Harry to face this conversation, but he knew Pomona was the best person to handle it.
Once in the lab, Severus tried to immerse himself in his work. The room was filled with the familiar, comforting scent of various potion ingredients. He busied himself with preparing potions for the upcoming school term, the rhythmic motion of his stirring and the soft whisper of potions bubbling over the flame a soothing routine that helped to clear his mind.
Yet, he found himself frequently glancing towards the door, wondering how the conversation was progressing. His thoughts inevitably drifted back to Harry – the young boy who had unwittingly found his way under Severus's protection. A sense of responsibility for his well-being had formed a knot in his stomach.
Severus sighed, forcing himself to focus on his work. He trusted Pomona, but the weight of the situation was not lost on him. Harry's agreement to the scan was pivotal; it could provide the answers they needed to understand and ultimately help the boy.
Pomona took a seat next to Harry, her eyes quickly scanning over his essay for Charms. She offered a gentle smile, which Harry returned with a look of curiosity.
"May I?" she asked, gesturing to the parchment. Harry nodded and handed it to her, watching as she made a few comments on how to improve it.
They spent some time working together, Pomona providing thoughtful suggestions and Harry incorporating them into his work. The two of them made a good team, and it wasn't long before the essay was looking much improved.
Once it was done, Harry gnawed at his lip and looked at Pomona, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Why are you here, Professor Sprout?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
Pomona just smiled at him and leaned back in her chair, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I thought I might pop by and make sure the dungeon bat hadn't poisoned you yet," she said with a small chuckle.
Harry couldn't help but smile at the comment, though he still looked somewhat confused. "But really, Professor, why are you here?"
Pomona's face turned more serious, but her eyes still held warmth. "I wanted to check on you, Harry," she said gently. "And, I must ask, how is Severus treating you?"
Harry looked down at his hands, hesitating for a moment before reluctantly admitting, "He's been kind of nice to me, actually."
"Kind of nice?" Pomona repeated, her eyebrows raised.
Harry nodded, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah, he's been... decent. I mean, it's not like we're best friends or anything, but he's been making sure I eat..."
Pomona smiled. "Is that so? Have you been eating enough? You look awfully skinny."
Harry looked away and shrugged, prompting a small sigh from Pomona. She glanced down at Harry's hands and noticed they were shaking. He was trying to suppress it, but she saw it nonetheless. She reached out and took hold of Harry's hands, steadying them and offering him a comforting squeeze.
"Harry," she started, her voice gentle, "do you know that Professor McGonagall and I have been friends for many years, even before we were professors here at Hogwarts?"
Harry looked up, his curiosity piqued, and shook his head.
Pomona gave a soft chuckle, her eyes gleaming with a mix of fondness and a tinge of melancholy. "Yes, indeed, we've been friends for what seems like forever. We formed a bond after... well, she was my saviour, in more ways than one."
She paused, collecting her thoughts before delving into her past. "You see, Harry, after I graduated from Hogwarts, my life took a turn I hadn't expected. I met a young man who, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be everything I had been dreaming of. He was charming, funny, and appeared to care for me quite deeply. Or so I believed."
Her voice held a faint tremor as she continued, her eyes focused on a spot far beyond the room's walls. "The only issue, and it was a significant one, was his penchant for firewhiskey. He had a love for it that surpassed his love for anything else, including me, as I came to learn. The firewhiskey turned him into someone else, someone who... wasn't so charming."
Pomona sighed, her grip on Harry's hands tightening. "One night, he drank too much and... he struck me."
She fell silent for a moment, the memory of it still raw and painful even after all these years. "I was a very prideful person in my youth, Harry. I held my head high and didn't want to burden anyone else with my problems. So, I kept it a secret. I was ashamed, mortified that I'd let myself end up in such a situation."
Her gaze fell upon Harry again, her eyes filled with a resolve that was tempered by empathy. "But, Harry, it's not the victim who should feel shame; it's the perpetrator. And, when my friends eventually found out, they showed me that."
A sad smile tugged at her lips. "Minerva was one of the first to know. She didn't judge me, didn't blame me as I had blamed myself. She stood by my side, her determination unwavering. She helped me to see that it wasn't my fault, that I had nothing to be embarrassed about. I was a victim, and it was he who should have felt the shame."
Her voice was firmer now, the tremor gone. "Minerva saved me, Harry, not just from him, but from the guilt and shame I had imposed on myself. She made me realize that I wasn't alone. And, I assure you, neither are you."
"Severus spoke to me," she began, her voice barely more than a whisper. "He told me about the scan you're reluctant to have. I understand, Harry, I truly do. The unknown is terrifying, especially when it's concerning our own bodies. It feels intrusive, and the fear of what they might find... it can be overwhelming."
Her tone was empathetic, resonating with a comforting warmth. She reached out once more to steady Harry's hands. "But that scan, it might help us understand what's happening with your hands, Harry. It might give us the knowledge we need to help you."
Pomona paused, her gaze fixed on Harry with unyielding determination. "And Harry, if the scan does reveal something else, something unexpected... you must remember, you won't be alone. You have people who care about you, who want to help."
She looked him in the eye, her words quiet but resolute. "I am here for you. Professor Mcgonigal, despite her stern exterior, is here for you as well. And yes, even Professor Snape, with his seemingly unapproachable demeanor, cares about your well-being."
The room fell silent as she finished speaking, the gravity of her words hanging heavily in the air. She watched Harry carefully, her gaze offering silent reassurance. "You're not alone, Harry," she reiterated softly. "You never were, and you never will be."
Harry looked away, but nodded slowly. Sensing his discomfort, Pomona Sprout understood they were unlikely to make any further headway in their current discussion. With a weary sigh, she turned back to the array of parchment on the coffee table, cluttered with his homework.
Attempting to shift the focus, she asked gently, "Do you have any questions about your Herbology homework, Harry?"
Harry slowly nodded again. He picked up a piece of parchment from the table, detailed with notes and diagrams, and held it out to her. After a moment's hesitation, he asked, "This sketch here... it's of the Mimbulus Mimbletonia, right?"
Pomona leaned in to observe the sketch. It was indeed the Mimbulus Mimbletonia, depicted with great detail. "Yes, that's correct, Harry. You have a keen eye for detail."
Harry ran a hand through his untidy hair, appearing somewhat relieved. "So," he began, pointing to a part of the sketch, "these... these are the boils that secrete Stinksap when it's threatened?"
Pomona nodded, "Correct, Harry. They are a part of the plant's defensive system. The released Stinksap can deter many predators."
Harry's eyes remained fixed on the parchment, his fingers tracing the sketch. "And hypothetically speaking," he continued, "if a Mimbulus Mimbletonia was planted adjacent to a Devil's Snare... would they interact?"
Pomona raised an eyebrow at the intriguing question. Harry had always shown a knack for exploring beyond the obvious, she mused.
"Hypothetically, yes, the Mimbulus Mimbletonia and the Devil's Snare might interact," she replied thoughtfully, "Although, given the aggressive nature of the Devil's Snare, the outcome may not be very beneficial for the Mimbletonia."
Harry nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer. "Okay, that makes sense. Thank you, Professor."
They continued their discussion on Herbology, with Pomona guiding Harry through his questions and offering advice for his future projects. The atmosphere in the room was decidedly lighter, the tension from their previous conversation somewhat diminished.
After a while, Pomona glanced at the clock on the wall and let out a small gasp. "Oh, my! I didn't realize how late it was. I have to get to my first class of the day."
Harry quickly gathered his things, an apologetic look on his face. "I didn't mean to keep you, Professor Sprout. Thank you for helping me with my work."
Pomona waved him off with a good-natured laugh. "Oh, don't you worry, Harry. I quite enjoyed our little chat."
She rose from her chair, smoothing out her robes. "And please, tell Severus that if he wants to talk, he knows where to find me. And... well, I'm sure you'll need a break from his brooding soon enough," she added with a wink.
Harry chuckled, a genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'll let him know, Professor."
Pomona nodded, her eyes warm. She gave Harry one last comforting squeeze on his shoulder before making her way out of the room and towards Severus's lab.
Upon reaching the lab, Pomona gave a soft knock before pushing the door open. She was greeted by the sight of Severus hunched over a bubbling cauldron, his attention solely on his work.
"Severus," she called, her voice soft but firm enough to get his attention. The potions master looked up from his work, his dark eyes meeting hers.
"I'll be on my way," she informed him, her tone neutral. "I've just spoken with Harry."
Severus lifted a brow, a silent question hanging in the air between them. Pomona nodded once, a silent reassurance that their conversation had gone as well as it could have. A sigh of relief slipped past Severus's lips, and he nodded back, an unspoken thank you.
He rose from his workbench, dusting off his robes. "Thank you, Pomona," he said sincerely. "I do appreciate it."
Pomona smiled warmly, giving him a small nod. "It's the least I could do. Take care of him, Severus."
Severus simply inclined his head, his expression inscrutable. Pomona offered him one last smile before stepping out of the lab, closing the door behind her. Severus watched her leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and apprehension settle in his chest. He knew there was still much to do, much to uncover, but for now, he was grateful for Pomona's intervention. He owed her a great deal.
With Pomona gone, Severus turned back to his workbench. His gaze lingered on the bubbling cauldron, but his mind was elsewhere. Harry, his wellbeing, his shaking hands... His dark eyes grew distant, lost in thought. He sighed, an edge of weariness creeping into his features. This was the first time he had felt truly responsible for someone else's life since the tragic night that ended Lily's life.
The memory still stung like an open wound, even after all these years. Lily... his Lily, the one ray of light in his otherwise grim existence. But she was gone, lost to him forever, and it was his fault. His guilt had been his constant companion since that fateful night, a reminder of his sins, of his failure.
But now, there was Harry. The boy with his mother's eyes, the boy he had sworn to protect. The boy who was now relying on him for help, support, perhaps even comfort. A shudder ran through him at the thought. Was he truly capable of this? Could he really care for Harry without causing him harm, without letting him down, like he had Lily?
Pushing away the burgeoning doubts, Severus focused back on his work. The potion in front of him was simple, a nutrition potion for Harry, but it symbolised so much more. It was his promise to Harry, his promise to Lily, to take care of their son, to keep him safe. He would not fail this time.
Adding the final ingredient, a sprig of angelica root, Severus stirred the potion thrice clockwise, then twice anti-clockwise, and watched as it turned a vibrant shade of gold. He bottled the potion with meticulous precision, marking each with the date and time of brewing.
Severus emerged from his lab, his hands full of a box containing a new batch of potions. He paused at the entrance, leaning against the doorframe and observing Harry from a distance. The young wizard was engrossed in his book, a distraction from the tasks and worries of his magical world. Seeing Harry absorbed in the world of 'The Hobbit' gave Severus a small moment of peace.
After a while, Severus pushed away from the doorframe, walking over to sit on the couch next to Harry. He placed the box of potions on the coffee table, causing Harry to look up from his book. "Well, Potter, given that you seem to have adopted a diet I'd only recommend to a house-elf," Severus began with a hint of playful sarcasm, "I've prepared some potions to, shall we say, supplement your culinary choices."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, likely about to argue that he was eating just fine, but then seemed to reconsider. Instead, he closed his mouth, a flash of understanding in his eyes. He knew Severus was right; he'd been skipping meals and eating poorly, a habit that wasn't helping.
As Harry resigned himself to this new regimen, Severus decided it was time to bring up the subject he'd been avoiding. "Potter," he continued, his tone teasing but kind, "any further musings on the scan, or are we still at the contemplation stage?"
Harry paused, looking down at his hands. Their slight tremor was evident even to him, though he tried his best to hide it from others. He carefully bookmarked his place in 'The Hobbit' and closed the book. Taking a deep breath, he admitted, "Yes, I've been thinking about it."
Severus scrutinized him, noticing the unease in Harry's eyes. "What are your thoughts?"
Harry sighed deeply, looking weary. "I'll agree to the scan," he started, "but only if you're the one to do it. I don't want the entire castle knowing about the results. Only you and Madam Pomfrey."
Severus considered the request for a moment, then said, "An exclusive guest list, I see. Your head of house will also have to know. And so will the headmaster."
Harry shook his head, a determined glint in his eyes. "Then I won't do the scan."
Severus frowned, sensing Harry's anxiety and apprehension. He didn't want to push the boy too hard. With a reluctant nod, he agreed, "Alright, Potter. Just Madam Pomfrey and me."
A small smile tugged at Harry's lips, but he had one more demand. "And nothing legal can come from the scan," he added quietly, his voice carrying an edge of seriousness.
Severus raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement. "Very well, nothing legal."
Harry exhaled deeply, tension visibly leaving his shoulders. Closing his eyes for a moment, he finally murmured, "When?"
Severus, seeing the turmoil within the young man before him, softened his tone considerably, a rarity for the typically stoic wizard. Reaching out, he placed a reassuring hand on Harry's knee. "If you'd rather not dwell on it, we could proceed now. Alternatively, later tonight might offer more privacy."
Harry hesitated for a brief second before settling on a decision. "Let's just get it over with. Now."
"Very well," Severus said, nodding in understanding. "Go to your room and lie down. I'll be there shortly."
Harry nodded, standing up and moving with a sense of purpose toward his room. Severus watched him leave, hoping that his attempts at kindness were truly helping the young man, if even a little.
After Harry had disappeared from view, Severus summoned a house elf with a flick of his wand. The elf popped into existence, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"I would like a cup of hot chocolate, please," Severus requested, the drink intended as a comforting gesture for Harry during the procedure.
With a nod, the elf disappeared and returned moments later with a steaming cup. Severus expressed his gratitude, something he didn't often do. However, recent events had put a lot into perspective. He then asked the elf to select a few books that Harry might enjoy and place them on the coffee table.
Cup in hand, Severus then made his way to Harry's room, mentally preparing himself for the procedure ahead. He would ensure that Harry felt safe and protected, even if it meant showing a more vulnerable side of himself. For Lily. For Harry.
Severus paused at the entrance to Harry's room, the soft glow of candles illuminating the space. Harry lay on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with an anxious expression. Noticing the hot chocolate in Severus's hand, a small smile crept onto Harry's face, breaking through the anxious exterior for a moment.
Approaching the bed, Severus handed the cup to Harry, their fingers brushing briefly. "Drink this," he murmured. "It might help calm your nerves."
Accepting the drink with a grateful nod, Harry sipped it tentatively, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through him. Severus, noticing the blanket on a nearby chair, fetched it and spread it across the foot of the bed, ensuring it was within Harry's reach.
"You can lie down or remain sitting, whichever is more comfortable for you," Severus instructed gently. "The scan could take some time, so I suggest you use this." He gestured towards the blanket.
Harry, cocooning himself in the blanket, propped himself up against the headboard of the bed, the cup of hot chocolate cradled in his hands. His green eyes, so reminiscent of his mother's, met Severus's as the Potions Master pulled up a chair to sit by the bed.
"I'm going to cast a diagnostic spell," Severus began, his voice low and soothing. "It's non-invasive, but it's essential you remain as still as possible. A parchment will manifest detailing your medical history—every injury, illness, or ailment you've ever had."
Harry swallowed hard, the weight of that statement sinking in. Every secret scar, every hidden wound, every pain he'd buried deep down would be laid out for Severus to see. He gripped the cup tighter, searching Severus's eyes for judgment, but found none. Instead, the usually cold and distant man was looking at him with what could only be described as compassion.
Harry's face paled a little at that, but he nodded in understanding. "Is it going to hurt?" he asked hesitantly.
Severus gave a faint smile, "No, Potter. It might feel a bit cold or tingly, but it shouldn't be painful."
"Do you trust me, Harry?" Severus asked, his voice soft.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I do."
Severus nodded in acknowledgment, appreciating the weight of that trust. "Alright, here we go," he said, taking a deep breath and raising his wand.
Harry felt a tingling sensation sweep over him as Severus murmured the incantation. A piece of parchment began to form in the air above the bed, words and symbols etching themselves onto it.
The scan seemed endless. Each parchment that appeared not only catalogued the recent injuries but also a troubling past. Severus's face tightened further as the ink scribbled details of Harry's childhood illnesses. Notes about recurring colds that were left untreated and later morphed into severe conditions appeared line after line. As soon as one page of parchment was filled with ink, it floated gently down for Severus to collect. He read each one with a deep concentration, his brow furrowing further with every passing minute.
As Harry distractedly sipped the cocoa, he could feel its nourishing effects, reminding him of the many meals he'd missed out on growing up. The chocolatey warmth offered a momentary solace from the invasive magic currently charting his every ailment and from Severus's piercing eyes that seemed to be reading more than just the parchment's ink. He found himself observing the Potions Master; the man who, for so long, had been an adversary of sorts. And yet, here he was, absorbing the weight of Harry's troubled history with silent support and an unexpected kindness.
Every glance that Severus cast his way carried a weight of concern, but there were no words. Not when the parchments detailed the malnutrition that had clearly affected Harry for a significant part of his young life. No judgment, no questions. Not yet.
Another sheet filled, and Severus's lips thinned as he examined it. Alongside the details of Harry's unexplainable injuries over the years, it listed more recent ones — ones that Harry had sustained at Hogwarts. Though there were several injuries that were clearly the result of the sadistic treatment he had received at the hands of Umbridge, there were others that Severus couldn't place. Instances where no recorded accidents or duels would account for the damages. The shaking of Harry's hands caught his attention once more, a symptom unexplained by the parchments.
Harry caught the questioning look in Severus's eyes but chose to look away, finding interest in the intricate patterns of his bedspread. The silence between them thickened, but it was the parchment's silent testimony that spoke volumes.
When the scan finally ceased, and no more parchments appeared, Severus organized the sheets, rolling them neatly and securing them with a band. "Mr. Potter," he began cautiously, "I see injuries here from your time at Hogwarts that aren't due to any recorded events or encounters with Umbridge. Care to explain?"
Harry took a deep breath, releasing it shakily, "I... some of it was just trying things, you know? Spells, stunts. Being reckless, I guess."
Severus's gaze intensified, trying to decipher the truth in Harry's words. "While some can be attributed to teenage recklessness, there are others that are more concerning. Like these," Severus pointed to a line, "it mentions deep bruises and fractured bones."
Harry looked away, his grip on the mug tightening. "I... sometimes people don't like the Boy Who Lived as much as the papers say they do."
Severus took a moment, connecting the dots. "You've been targeted," he surmised quietly.
Harry merely nodded, the weight of years of unspoken torment bearing down on him.
"We will address this," Severus's voice was firm, yet gentle. "But first, we focus on your health. Madam Pomfrey will have solutions for some of these ailments, especially your shaking hands."
"And nothing legal can come out of the scan," Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence. His voice was firm, and there was an edge to it, a note of challenge.
Severus hesitated for a mere fraction of a second. He had hoped this wouldn't come up, but he couldn't pretend he was surprised. "I gave you my word, Potter," he finally replied. "And I will keep it. As much as it might go against my better judgment."
Harry's gaze hardened. "It's my life. My choice."
Severus pulled back, the unspoken tension between them thick in the air. "I'll see Madam Pomfrey about this scan, inform her of the... conditions you've set," he stated, his voice strained. "Then I have my afternoon classes."
The two wizards locked eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them. This was delicate territory, and they both knew it.
"I'll be back later to see how you're doing," Severus finally said, breaking the moment. "In the meantime, I asked a house elf to fetch some more books you might like. They're on the coffee table."
Harry nodded, though the defensive set to his shoulders remained. Severus gave him one last look before turning to leave the room. As he closed the door behind him, he allowed himself a moment to lean against it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
Harry curled into himself on the bed, the weight of vulnerability pressing in from all sides. He placed the hot cocoa, its warmth still a comforting contrast to the sudden cold he felt, on the bedside table. The tendrils of steam rising from it seemed to mirror the foggy turmoil inside him.
Being seen was a new experience for him, an uncharted territory. Not the fame and the relentless eyes of the public, but truly being seen. Having someone peeling back the layers of bravado and pain to see the core of his being, the unvarnished, raw truths that lay beneath. Severus Snape, his ever-taciturn potions master, now held the keys to his most intimate secrets.
Harry's mind raced. He remembered every whispered word in the hallways, every curious gaze, every time someone made an assumption about the Boy Who Lived. But all that was the surface. Severus now had a depth of knowledge that no one else did. He had seen the marks that life had left on Harry, both physical and otherwise.
Harry buried his face in his hands, taking deep breaths. He trusted Snape. Or at least, a part of him did. Wasn't it Snape who had protected him all these years, watching from the shadows? But trust was a complicated thing, built layer by layer, brick by brick. And while Snape had been laying down those bricks steadily, Harry had erected walls around himself for his own protection.
Harry looked at his reflection in the dark window pane. All these years, he had been fighting external battles, but this introspection forced him to acknowledge the internal ones. The battle scars on his psyche. The constant balancing act of self-preservation against the need to be loved, accepted.
Meanwhile, Severus carefully folded the sheets of parchment, ensuring they were secure. Every word written on those sheets weighed heavy on his mind, adding yet another layer to the already complex puzzle that was Harry Potter. He needed to speak with Madam Pomfrey. While he was adept at reading the emotions and thoughts of others, the nuances of physical health were the domain of the school's matron.
Stepping out into the corridor, Severus was immediately engulfed in its eerie stillness. The usually bustling castle had settled into a hushed calm, as if the walls themselves were echoing the raw emotions of the encounter he had just shared with Harry. The torches lining the walls flickered faintly, casting moving shadows that danced to a silent rhythm. As he walked, he lost himself in thought, attempting to arrange his words for the forthcoming conversation with Madam Pomfrey. However, his contemplative mood was shattered when an all-too-familiar shrill voice pierced the atmosphere.
"Severus!" The screeching tone of Dolores Umbridge echoed through the corridor, making the very stones seem to shiver. Severus paused, taking a deep breath to steel himself, and turned slowly to face her. The sight was almost comical. Her usually pristine pink robes were rumpled, mottled with dark wet patches. Her hair, which was typically set in a tight bun, had a few strands out of place, lending her an air of disarray.
"Dolores," he acknowledged, his voice dripping with icy detachment.
Her face, a mask of outraged indignation, was a shade of magenta that eerily matched her robes. Her nostrils flared as she tried to control her breathing, and her eyes, usually wide and toad-like, now glinted with an unhinged fury. "I demand an explanation, Snape!" she spat, practically shaking with rage. "Everywhere I turn, some new humiliation awaits! Buckets of cold water appearing out of nowhere, unseen obstacles tripping me up at every step... This is beyond a joke!"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting the castle itself has taken issue with your presence, Madam?" he drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Ignoring his sarcastic remark, her bulging eyes seemed to protrude even further in her rage as she pounced on another topic. "Potter," she spat, every syllable dripping with venom. "Where is that insubordinate child? He continues to elude my classes, thinking he's above Ministry-sanctioned education."
Severus's fingers instinctively curled tighter around the stack of papers he held, their edges digging slightly into his palm. The slight crinkling sound didn't escape Umbridge, who, despite her bluster, had the keen observational skills of a predator. Those toad-like eyes narrowed even further, fixing onto the papers like a hawk zeroing in on its prey.
"And what, pray tell, do you have there?" she demanded, her voice taking on a sharp, dangerous edge.
Severus met her gaze coolly. "They are personal and certainly none of your business," he replied, his voice as cold and unyielding as steel.
However, in a surprising display of agility, Umbridge lunged forward, snatching the papers with a swift motion. Her small, stubby fingers clawed through the contents, and as she processed what she was seeing, her lips curled into a grotesque semblance of a smile. "Ah, Mr. Potter's medical records," she crooned maliciously, her voice dripping with malevolent glee. "What a find. Tell me, Severus, plotting a little scheme against the golden boy, are we?" The deranged glint in her eyes suggested she was teetering on the brink of insanity, fueled by her obsession with control and her disdain for Harry.
Severus's patience, already stretched thin, snapped like a brittle twig. Every fiber of his being vibrated with fury. "Return those immediately," he growled, his voice dripping with menace. But instead of complying, she clutched the papers even tighter, her smile more mocking than ever.
"You're protecting him, aren't you?" she taunted, her voice high-pitched and shrill, echoing mockingly in the stone corridor. "The great Severus Snape, the feared ex-Death Eater, showing tenderness for the Potter boy. It's pathetic."
That was the last straw. With a fluidity and speed that belied his tall frame, Severus closed the distance between them. His hand shot out to grip her throat, pinning her against the cold stone wall of the corridor, her feet dangling inches above the ground. She gasped, her eyes wide with genuine fear for the first time.
With his other hand, he swiftly drew his wand and pointed it directly at her. "Obliviate," he hissed, the spell leaving his lips as a venomous whisper. The spell hit Umbridge directly in the eyes, a blinding flash illuminating the corridor. Her body went slack, the mocking light in her eyes replaced with vacant confusion.
Releasing his grip on her throat, he let her slump to the ground. She coughed and sputtered, clutching her throat, but any memory of the past few moments — or of the papers she had stolen a glance at — was wiped clean from her mind.
Severus bent down, retrieving the medical records with a gentleness that was in stark contrast to his previous actions. Rising to his full height, he addressed the now disoriented Undersecretary. "Perhaps you'll think twice before crossing paths with me again, Madam Umbridge," he intoned, his voice deadly soft.
Turning on his heel, a storm of emotions churning within him, Severus headed in the direction of Minerva's office. He needed to discuss this incident with Minerva, and the sooner the better. The weight of the papers in his hand felt heavier than ever, a reminder of the vulnerability they held within.
Reaching the entrance to Minerva's classroom, he took a moment to collect himself. However, his stormy expression must've been evident because as soon as he caught the Minerva's eye, her own eyes widened slightly in alarm. Even though a class was in session, she immediately stood from her desk, pointing to a student at the front. "Mr. Collins, lead the class in the next set of exercises," she commanded.
Minerva swiftly approached the door, opening it to let Severus in. "Severus, this is highly irregular. What happened?" Her voice was firm but laced with concern.
Not waiting for them to reach the confines of her office, Severus began to speak, his words a torrent of emotion. "Umbridge," he spat the name out like a curse. "She got her hands on Harry's medical records. I lost my temper, Minerva." He hesitated for a moment, then admitted with a heavy sigh, "I used the Obliviate charm on her."
Minerva's eyes widened further, her usually stern features softening in sympathy. "Severus..." she murmured, guiding him into her office and closing the door behind them.
Inside the room, Severus sank into one of the chairs, his usual stern facade crumbling. He buried his head in his hands, fingers threaded through his greasy black hair. "I couldn't let her have that information, Minerva," he said, his voice muffled and filled with anguish. "I couldn't."
Minerva, ever the pillar of strength, walked around her desk, placing a comforting hand on Severus's shoulder. "You did what you felt was necessary in the moment," she reassured him. "Umbridge is a danger to every student in this school, especially Harry. But we'll need to be more cautious. If she has any inkling of your intervention, even without the memories, it could spell trouble."
Severus looked up, his dark eyes meeting hers. "I know. I let my emotions get the better of me."
Minerva squeezed his shoulder gently. "We all have moments of weakness, Severus. But for now, we must focus on keeping Harry safe and handling Umbridge. That can't happen again."
Severus simply nodded, his eyes never leaving Minerva's gaze. The silence was palpable, the air thick with tension and unsaid words.
Minerva broke the silence, her eyes moving to the papers clenched tightly in Severus's grip. "Those are Harry's medical records, are they not?"
Severus's fingers whitened as his grip on the parchment tightened, inadvertently causing the edges to crinkle. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably. "They are."
Her eyes, always so perceptive, bore into his, probing for more. "Severus, is there anything within those sheets that poses a threat to him? To the students or the school?"
He hesitated, looking pained. "I can't discuss the contents with you, Minerva. Harry was clear on that."
Her eyes showed a glint of concern, but she nodded in understanding. "Very well. But Severus," she added, her voice softer, "you seem... on edge. Even by your standards."
She walked gracefully to an ornate wooden cupboard, the contents of which were known to a select few. Retrieving a vial with a swirling light blue liquid, she extended it to him. "Drink this calming draught. It will steady your nerves."
Without a word, Severus took the vial, his fingers brushing against hers momentarily. Drinking it down swiftly, the change was immediate. The rigidness of his posture eased, and the shadows in his eyes seemed to lighten just a fraction.
Severus took a deep breath, the calming draught working its magic, pushing back the tempest of anger and anxiety that had moments before threatened to consume him. "Thank you, Minerva," he whispered, his voice hoarse from the whirlwind of emotions. "Would you mind if I took your Floo to the hospital wing? I'd like to avoid any more... unexpected encounters."
"Of course," Minerva replied, gesturing towards her fireplace.
Arriving at the hospital wing, he dusted off the residual ash and took a moment to regain his composure. As soon as he straightened, Madam Poppy Pomfrey spotted him. Seeing the papers in his hands, she let out a sigh of relief.
"I was beginning to worry," she admitted, her face softening. "I'm glad you convinced Harry to have the scan. May I?"
"We owe our thanks to Pomera." Severus said as he handed over the papers, watching her carefully as her eyes darted across the parchment. "Harry had conditions before he agreed to this scan," he added, a note of seriousness in his voice. "No legal actions are to come from the findings, and only you and I are to be privy to all the details." Poppy's eyes widened slightly, a nod of understanding coming from her. As she read further, her expression shifted from relief to deep concern, and her brows furrowed in concentration. The more she read, the darker her gaze became.
Finishing the last page, she placed the records down gently. "Severus, come with me to my office. We need to discuss this."
Without waiting for his reply, she led the way, her steps brisk and determined. Once inside, she gestured for him to sit, her own face a mask of turmoil. The room, usually filled with the comforting aroma of various healing potions, now felt cold and foreboding.
Poppy read the papers once more, her face a kaleidoscope of emotions, shifting from shock to anger and then settling on a deep sadness. Setting them down with a sigh, she looked at Severus with eyes that shimmered with unshed tears.
"From the scans, I understand what's happening with Harry's hands," she began, her voice quivering slightly. "The problem is three-fold. Firstly, he had his palms burned multiple times from when he was younger. This alone has caused significant damage. Secondly, the untreated Cruciatus curse he endured last year has caused lasting harm, it's evident in the deep tissue damage and nerve disruption. And now, the recent bouts of the Cruciatus curse at the hands of Umbridge... it's pushed everything over the edge even though he had treatment soon after."
Severus's heart sank as he processed her words. He had seen Harry suffer, of course, but the extent of the damage was something he hadn't fully grasped. "Is there any way to heal him, Poppy?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his own guilt pressing down on him.
Poppy took a deep breath. "It's not going to be easy. Magical injuries, especially those inflicted by dark magic, are notoriously tricky to heal. The burns can be treated to some extent, and I can use certain potions and spells to help with the pain and try to get some of the shaking under control. But the damage from the Cruciatus curse... that's something we may not be able to fully reverse."
Severus closed his eyes, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. The boy had suffered so much, endured unimaginable pain, and now was facing a future with potentially irreparable damage.
"The Ministry should be held responsible," Poppy muttered, her usual composed demeanor breaking for a moment, fury evident in her voice. "That woman... using the Cruciatus curse on a student... It's unfathomable."
Severus nodded, anger simmering just beneath his surface. "She won't get away with this," he promised.
Poppy looked at him for a moment, her eyes searching his. "But you said no legal actions. So what do you plan?"
He looked at her squarely, the dark fire in his eyes betraying his intentions. "There are other ways to ensure she pays for her actions. Do not worry about that. However, the report showed he had sustained other injuries here at Hogwarts. Are these injuries you are aware of?"
Poppy's eyes widened slightly in surprise and then narrowed in contemplation. "I've treated Harry for various injuries throughout his time here, as I have with many students who find their way into one mischief or another. But," she hesitated, shuffling the papers in her hands, "some of these injuries were unfamiliar to me. They seem... deliberate, not the result of Quidditch accidents or classroom mishaps."
Severus felt a cold sensation in his stomach. "So, you believe, like I do, that someone here at school is responsible for some of these injuries?"
Poppy sighed, her usual stoic demeanor cracking just a bit. "It's a thought I've had for some time now, but I hoped I was wrong. Harry has always been reluctant to discuss the origins of some of his injuries. I believed it was out of embarrassment or perhaps the desire to protect someone he considered a friend."
Severus's mind raced. While he was no fan of Gryffindors, especially not the Golden Trio, he couldn't deny the bond that Harry, Hermione, and Ron shared. "An older student, perhaps? Or someone with a grudge?"
Poppy looked thoughtful. "There's been an increase in bullying lately, and not just from the Slytherins. Some older students, feeling the pressures of the upcoming war and the influence of their families, have turned rather aggressive. It's not impossible that Harry might have become a target, especially given his reputation and his... defiance against certain ideologies."
Severus' eyebrows furrowed. "But to harm Potter to such an extent... who would dare?"
"It's not the boldness that concerns me," Poppy whispered, looking down, "but the secrecy of it all. If someone has been consistently harming Harry without any of us being the wiser, then they're both cunning and dangerous."
Severus leaned back in his chair, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on him. "And what's most concerning," he began, his voice low, "is that Harry hasn't said a word about it to anyone. Has he ever given any hint, any name, any clue?"
Poppy shook her head, her fingers playing nervously with the edge of the parchment. "Never. He's always brushed off my concerns or changed the subject. At times, I suspected he might have believed it to be his own fault or that speaking of it would make it real."
Severus exhaled deeply, pressing his fingers against his temples. "It's not just the physical harm that worries me then. This sort of continual, covert abuse has likely taken a toll on his mental well-being as well."
Poppy's eyes shimmered with moisture, her maternal instincts evident. "The boy has faced so much, and yet he carries it all. It may be time to contact a more specialized mind healer."
Severus frowned, recalling their agreement. "Poppy, remember we cannot tell anyone about what was revealed in those scans. Not even a mind healer."
Poppy met his gaze evenly. "I understand your concerns, Severus, but mind healers operate under strict confidentiality. We don't have to reveal anything to them. Their role is to provide a space for the patient to open up and discuss their issues on their own terms."
Severus's eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of curiosity there. "So, you're suggesting we send Potter to a mind healer and hope he divulges the information himself?"
"Exactly," Poppy replied. "Harry has kept so much bottled up inside. The mind healer is there to help him process and cope. If he chooses to share, then they can provide guidance. If not, they'll still be able to help him manage the emotional toll. It's evident he needs to speak with someone, especially if he's unwilling to speak with those already in his life."
Nodding, Severus found himself feeling an emotion he rarely allowed himself to indulge in: empathy. "How would you like to proceed with his healing, Poppy?"
Poppy took a moment, staring at the papers once more, her mind seemingly calculating and preparing a course of action. "The burns on his hands will require a series of salves, combined with the Essence of Dittany. The pain from the Cruciatus Curse... that's a bit more complicated. I have a potion that can alleviate some of the nerve pain, but its effectiveness will depend on how consistently Harry takes it. As for the older fractures, they've already started to mend but not in the right way. We might have to use a combination of Skele-Gro and physical therapy to realign and strengthen them."
Severus nodded, processing the information. "Whatever supplies you need, let me know. I'll ensure they're provided. As for Harry, I'll speak with him. He needs to understand the importance of the treatments. I will also speak with Albus before the summer and impress on him that Harry cannot return to the Dursleys"
Poppy nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Severus. It's... reassuring to have you on board with this."
"Always, Poppy," Severus said with a rare softness in his voice. "For the well-being of the students, always." With that, he rose from his chair, his robes flowing behind him as he moved. "I'll take my leave now. There's much to think about and prepare for."
Poppy watched him as he made his way to the door. "Severus," she called out, causing him to pause and turn slightly. "Take care of yourself as well. This isn't just weighing on Harry."
A flicker of emotion crossed Severus's face, and he gave a curt nod before exiting the room.
The corridors of Hogwarts, usually brimming with energy, felt almost stifling to Severus as he made his way to the dungeons. Memories of his own encounter with Umbridge earlier that day played in his mind. The subtle threats, the insinuations, and that maddeningly sweet tone she used; it was enough to make anyone's blood boil.
But more than that, the weight of Harry's injuries and the dark secrets that seemed to lurk in every corner pressed down on him. For so long, he had prided himself on being aware of everything happening at the school, but now, he was reminded of how much could slip through even the keenest of observers.
Skipping lunch was an easy decision, given the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions he was grappling with. But as he descended the steps to his classroom, he paused. Harry, despite everything he was going through, still had to eat. And knowing the boy, he'd probably neglect his meals in favor of wallowing in his thoughts.
Quickly summoning a house elf, Severus instructed, "Prepare a nutritious meal and take it to Mr. Potter. Ensure he eats at least half of it before you leave. He's likely to brush you off, but be persistent."
Dobby, eyes wide with surprise at the rare show of concern from the usually stoic professor, nodded rapidly. "Yes, Professor Snape. I will do as you ask."
Watching the elf pop away, Severus made his way into his classroom, setting up for the afternoon's lesson. Even with everything on his mind, he knew he had a duty to his students. And right now, that duty, combined with ensuring Umbridge's eventual comeuppance, was the only thing keeping him going.
As he started to prepare the ingredients for the day's potion lesson, he couldn't shake the thought of Harry and the challenges he faced. The boy had always been a thorn in his side, but no one, especially not a child, deserved to suffer as Harry had.
Severus took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was going to be a long day.
The day went on, the hours melding seamlessly into one another. The lessons were conducted with the same precision and strictness Severus always maintained, and for the most part, his students responded in kind, focusing on their brews and concoctions. It was as if the brewing process became a sort of reprieve for him, a temporary escape from the storm brewing outside of these walls.
It was during his last class, when the dusk light started to seep through the stained windows of the dungeon, that the door burst open. Severus's eyes flitted up, prepared to scold a late student or perhaps chastise Peeves for another one of his pranks. But instead, he was met with the sight of a disheveled Dolores Umbridge.
Her usual pink attire was splattered with mud, and her signature bow, which usually sat atop her head in a neat manner, hung limply by her side. Her face, now a deep shade of red, contorted with rage, only made her toad-like appearance more pronounced.
"Snape!" she shrieked, her eyes darting frantically. "It's that boy! Potter! He's behind this, and Dumbledore is surely helping him!"
Severus, hiding his amusement, responded calmly. "Class dismissed." The students hurriedly packed up their belongings and left, throwing curious glances over their shoulders.
Once the room was empty, Umbridge continued her tirade. "This castle is conspiring against me at every turn. Stairs shift beneath my feet, doors vanish, and now... this infernal BOOT!" As if on cue, an old boot floated behind her and gave her another swift kick.
"Surely you must know something, Snape," she pleaded, her voice dripping with desperation. "Potter is behind this! I need to find him, put an end to these... shenanigans."
Severus feigned concern, but his eyes held a hint of amusement. "Dolores, Hogwarts is an ancient place with powerful magic running through its veins. It has a mind of its own, a will of its own. Even if Potter were behind such tricks, the castle would have to be complicit."
Umbridge seethed. "That boy is causing all this chaos, and Dumbledore is letting him run wild! You must help me find him, Snape. You have connections, you have influence. Together, we can put an end to all this mischief."
Severus leaned back, folding his arms. "I assure you, Dolores, if I had any knowledge of Potter's whereabouts or his actions, I would address it appropriately. But, as it stands, Hogwarts remains an enigma even to those of us who have walked its corridors for years."
She huffed, her face reddening even more. "You may be content to let this school run amok, but I am not! I will find Potter, and I will bring order back to this school!"
With that, she stormed out, the boot still persistently tailing her, occasionally delivering a kick.
Severus, left alone in the quiet aftermath of her exit, allowed himself a brief smile. The elves would be receiving a wonderful Christmas present from him this year.
With the darkening corridors of Hogwarts as his backdrop, Severus made his way towards his private quarters. The day had been long, filled with lessons, unexpected visits, and the ever-present weight of concern for Harry. As he approached the door to his bedroom, a faint light emanated from the crack beneath Harry's door. He approached silently, taking a moment to listen. The sound of rustling pages met his ears.
Pushing the door open slightly, he saw Harry cocooned in a blanket, a book held comfortably in his uninjured hand. The sight was both heartwarming and heart-wrenching, the resilience of the boy on full display.
"Potter," Severus began, his voice softer than usual as he leaned against the doorframe. "Would you prefer to join me in the kitchen for dinner, or would you rather eat here?"
Harry looked up, seemingly surprised by the gentle offer. "The kitchen would be... nice," he replied hesitantly.
Severus nodded. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned another house elf. "Prepare a meal for two in the kitchen," he instructed. "Something warm and hearty."
The elf nodded and disappeared with a small pop.
The two of them sat across from each other, the table set with an assortment of dishes. They began their meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry's hands shook slightly, the after-effects of his ordeal still lingering, but he managed to get through with just a few dropped utensils.
Severus cleared his throat, "Madam Pomfrey will be visiting tomorrow to attend to your hands and evaluate some of your older injuries."
Harry's eyes, which had been bright with the simple pleasure of a warm meal, dimmed. His fork, which had been moving food around on his plate, stopped. The weight of the reminder seemed to pull him back into the darkness he'd been fighting to escape.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, Severus recounted his encounter with Umbridge. "You should have seen her, Potter," he said with a smirk. "A boot, of all things, pursuing her relentlessly. Each time it kicked her, I could have sworn the castle itself was chuckling."
Harry looked up, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. The image painted by Snape, combined with the professor's rarely-seen playful tone, coaxed a genuine laugh out of the boy. It was a sound filled with both surprise and relief. The weighty atmosphere that had settled over the room lifted slightly.
Severus watched Harry for a moment, the laugh transforming the boy's face into one more familiar, one filled with life and mischief. "It's good to hear you laugh, Potter. It's a sound that's been missed in the halls."
Harry's cheeks colored slightly, but he met Severus's gaze, the hint of a smile still present.
"Oh, I'm sure it's been sorely missed," Harry retorted with a wry grin, "especially with me being the ever-infamous 'Brat Who Lived' around here."
Severus smirked, the playfulness evident in his eyes. "Indeed, your...unique presence has always been... noticeable."
Harry huffed in mock indignation, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "Unique presence? That's one way to put it."
Seeing the boy's appetite wane, Severus deftly slid a vial across the table. The dark liquid inside seemed unappetizing, but Harry recognized it as a nutritional potion. "You should consume this," Severus suggested, "You know the drill."
Harry eyed the potion skeptically. "Does it have to taste so bad?"
Severus' lips twitched. "Not everything that's good for you tastes pleasant, Potter. Consider it a life lesson."
With a dramatic sigh, Harry uncorked the vial and downed its contents, making a face at the taste. "Life lessons with Snape. Just what I've always wanted."
Severus let out a snort, an unanticipated sound that was somehow light, and very much unlike him. "Count your blessings," he said with a slight smirk, "Not everyone is fortunate enough to experience such moments."
They continued their conversation, the ambience growing more relaxed with each passing minute. Severus found himself amused and slightly bewildered by how Harry seemed so elated by a simple tale of Umbridge getting a humorous boot to her behind. The laughter that spilled from Harry's lips and the glint in his eyes were characteristics Severus had typically associated with the boy when he was amidst his friends.
Observing this transformation, a flicker of hope ignited within Severus. Perhaps, after all, Harry was going to be alright.
However, what Severus wasn't aware of was that his humorous tale was not the sole reason for the lift in Harry's spirits. Earlier, Dobby, the mischievous house-elf, had made a visit to the young wizard. Though Severus had arranged the visit merely to ensure Harry ate some lunch, he had no clue about the immense impact it had on Harry.
With wide-eyed excitement, Dobby had whispered to Harry about the professors' collective plot to irritate Umbridge to the point of her leaving the school. He spoke of the trick wands and the ingenious pranks they'd played on the vindictive witch. The house-elf's eyes sparkled with admiration when he recounted how it was Severus who had instigated the whole endeavor.
"Severus is a good man," Dobby had confided, his voice full of reverence. "He's always looking out for Harry Potter."
Chapter 4