Proof of Life

Restless in Rest



The remaining days of Harry\'s stress leave flew by all too quickly, and felt more like a vacation than anything else. He spent the days at the Burrow playing with Lily and talking with Ginny, while Hannah, Luna, George, Lee, Cho and Pansy took turns supervising Severus.



Marietta showed up one more time, examined Severus, and then, in spite of Harry\'s protests, examined Harry as well.



“You need to rest more and stop worrying so much,” Marietta said softly to Harry. “He\'s doing very well.”



Harry sighed sadly. He supposed Severus was doing well enough, all things considered, but the man was still incredibly reserved, soft-spoken and subdued. The only times Severus appeared to be truly at ease was when he was petting Luna\'s three-legged cat. In those times, a wry, ironic smirk would linger on Severus\' lips.



At night Harry and Severus still shared the same bed, although most nights they slept on different sides of it, far apart from each other. Tripod slept between them, purring loudly in a way that seemed almost mechanical, but was still very soothing. And Harry could use all the soothing in the world, because he really, really did not want to go back to work. He tried very hard not to think of all the nonsense that had undoubtedly piled up in his absence.



Still, the dreaded Monday arrived and Harry knew he had to go back to the office, even as his stomach clenched into the familiar knot of tension.



Having consulted Hermione\'s schedule, Harry had been expecting Draco to show up to supervise Severus; instead, there was only Luna Lovegood who arrived fifteen minutes late.



“You\'re late,” Harry pointed out, feeling a little irritated about the undeniable fact that Draco had bailed on his commitment to spend time with Severus, and more than a little guilty about taking out his frustration on Luna.



“I got held up.”



“How?”



“I couldn\'t decide which book to bring to read.”



“I thought you were doing Tuesdays,” Harry said, uncertain why he was still arguing. Maybe he just felt like picking a fight – his mood was definitely foul enough.



“Mondays are the new Tuesdays,” Luna said serenely.



Harry shut his eyes tightly, wondering if he was making a dreadful mistake leaving Severus in her hands so often. If Luna was weirding him out terribly, Harry thought, what would her weirdness do to the already confused and disoriented Severus Snape?



“How\'s the newspaper going anyway?” Harry asked, rummaging through his shoulder bag, making sure he had everything he needed.



“It\'s wonderful,” Luna said brightly. “I\'ve exposed several government conspiracies.”



“Such as?”



“The Ministry of Magic is planning to build an entire army of Inferi, just like Voldemort had been trying to do. They are experimenting on humans. They have an entire floor in St. Mungo\'s dedicated to Dark Magic research,” Luna reported happily.



Harry snorted under his breath. “Can you prove any of it?”



“Absolutely not.”



“Well, at least you\'re having fun,” Harry muttered snidely.



“And you are procrastinating. You should go.”



Harry cast a dubious glance at Severus. “Are you going to be all right?”



“Yes.”



“If you need me, use the two-way mirror I gave you to contact me,” Harry said. “If you are uncomfortable with anything, or if you want me to come back for any reason, please call me. All right?”



“All right,” Severus said.



Harry gritted his teeth and stepped into the Floo, ready to face another day out in the wizarding world.



~ * ~



All right. He hadn\'t been all right in seven years, or perhaps even longer than that, Severus thought. And yet, now he was – or at least was going to be.



He looked up at the young woman curled up in the armchair across the room and marveled again at the simple fact that he was alive. Simply alive.



He hadn\'t expected that. He had never expected to live past the war, to see the victory over the Dark Lord – Voldemort, he corrected himself and smirked maliciously.



The war, he thought suddenly, and his mind reeled again. The war was over, had been over for seven years. He\'d known that of course. And yet... over the last three weeks, he\'d been so preoccupied with his personal survival, with avoiding pain and maintaining his sanity, that it hadn\'t even occured to him to ask about the others.



During his captivity Severus had overheard enough of his tormentors\' conversations to know that the Malfoys had survived, and that Tonks and Lupin had died. Still, he wondered.... what if someone else had died? He thought of Poppy, Hagrid, Sprout, McGonagall, and winced slightly, not wanting to imagine that any of them had died years ago without his knowing, or without his even thinking about them immediately upon his rescue. Self-absorbed, self-pitying, self-centered, he scolded himself, furious with himself for not thinking to ask sooner, yet still dreading to ask now.



“What is it?” Luna asked softly, noticing the change in his expression.



“The war,” Severus muttered under his breath. “Who died?”



“Oh,” she murmured and shifted slightly in her chair. “Fred Weasley, Bellatrix Lestrange, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fenrir Greyback, Colin Creevey…” She recited the names quietly, names of friends and foes alike, as if it didn\'t matter to her who was which, as if death somehow made everyone equal in her eyes.



“Poppy? Hagrid? Sprout?” he questioned cautiously. “Draco?”



“All fine. Draco is fine too. Harry kept him out of Azkaban,” Luna said matter-of-factly.



Severus stared at her blankly. He was relieved — immensely relieved — to learn that his godson was free. He hadn\'t expected to hear that though, definitely not in light of what he remembered of Harry\'s ongoing vendetta with Draco.



“Why did Harry do that?” he inquired, suddenly feeling the smallest twinge of resentment and bitterness arise, as he believed he already knew the answer. The automatic thought arose: He\'s just like James, collecting people who\'ll owe him... to taunt them later.



Luna just shrugged.



“Who else did Harry rescue, I wonder?” Severus murmured, unable to keep the tiniest note of disdain creeping into his voice.



“Lucius and Umbridge,” Luna said. “They were going to be sentenced to the Dementor\'s Kiss, but Harry managed to turn that around. They\'re in Azkaban now. Umbridge will get out next year, I am told. Lucius is there for another five.”



“Oh.” The bitterness of that revelation was almost too much to handle. And to think, he\'d come to believe that Potter cared for him. No, the explanation was much simpler than that. He was now a part of Potter\'s collection, along with Umbridge and the elder Malfoy—just another person indebted to Potter. He smirked unhappily.



“More life-debts to be repaid,” he snorted under his breath. “Wonderful.”



“Hmm?” Luna stared at him with surprise. “Oh, no. It\'s not like that at all. Life-debts were canceled as a measuring unit three years ago. There are no debts anymore.”



That incredibly strange statement of hers struck a chord with him, as in spite of himself, he pictured it – a life free of debts, obligations, \'ought to\'s and \'must\'s.



“What is there now?” he muttered, surprising himself by the childish naïvete of the incredibly sentimental question.



Somehow, against all expectations, Luna\'s response worked to calm him.



“Now there\'s just life,” Luna said simply.



~ * ~



Harry\'s office greeted him with a sizable mountain of scrolls and parchments piled up on his desk, just as he had expected. He sucked in a furious breath and stood in front of the pile for a few minutes, bracing himself before he sat down and attempted to tackle it.



“It\'s not that bad,” Ron said almost sympathetically.



“I want to go home,” Harry complained.



“You just got here.”



“I know. Do you suppose anyone will notice if I just Evanesco these and pretend I never saw them?”



“These,” Ron said pointedly, “are interrogation reports. Prisoners we took when we dismantled the last compound.”



“I\'ll review them,” Harry said. “What\'s going on today?”



“Team Leaders\' meeting at eleven. Press-conference with the Prophet at three. And Diggory wants to see you before that.”



Harry winced. “Kill me.”



~ * ~



The cat jumped onto the couch next to Severus and butted his elbow with its head. Severus petted the cat absently, and slowly, his resentment towards Harry began to dissipate, leaving him almost ashamed of his earlier doubts.



Harry had let the cat stay.



Harry had named his own daughter, Lily Eileen, after Severus\' mother. Not after Molly, not after Ginny, not after Hermione or Luna, but after Severus\' mother.



People didn\'t do that sort of thing unless... they cared.



It was difficult to recall what it felt like to be cared for at this point, but Severus was quite certain that it looked something just like this.



The woman in the armchair across from him was reading a thin, hardcover book, paying absolutely no attention to him. Her eyes were scanning the pages with luxurious slowness.



“What did you bring to read?” Severus asked, surprising himself by initiating conversation.



“Muggle poetry,” she said, without lifting her eyes to look at him. “You won\'t like it.”



“How do you know?” he asked irritably, for some odd reason itching to pick a fight. Just what in the name of god was wrong with him today? Why couldn\'t he just keep his mouth shut and be grateful – like...



“It\'s very sentimental. You\'ll loathe every verse.”



“Try me,” he said dryly. “Couldn\'t be any worse than sitting like an idiot all day long, staring at Potter\'s furniture.”



“All right. Just don\'t complain to me when you hate it. I won\'t listen.”



...



When love beckons to you, follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams...



~ * ~



“My sympathies on your loss.”



Harry stared at Diggory blankly for a long moment, until his better sense caught up with him, and he said, “Thank you. I appreciate you giving me the time off. It was helpful.”



“Good. I also wanted to let you know that your career isn\'t going to be affected by the fact that you have accepted Severus Snape into your household. You are still a valuable member of this team, and just because you are a little too naïve for your own good, I\'m not going to let you go Harry.”



“I knew I couldn\'t be so lucky,” Harry muttered under his breath. He did promise Ron he wouldn\'t quit, but being let go with a sizable severance pay packet seemed like a fairly good prospect at this point.



“What was that?” Diggory demanded instantly.



“Nothing.”



“Now, while you were gone there were two more terrorist attacks. No casualties in either one, but each time it was a close call.”



“I see.”



“We need a breakthrough, Harry,” Diggory said bluntly. “I like you a great deal, but this can\'t go on. If you are unable to achieve the desired results, our past association aside, I will replace you with someone more capable.”



Harry should have been angry about that, but he sensed a measure of truth in the accusatory statement. If he had been more competent about locating and dismantling the Death Eater compounds, perhaps Severus would have been found much sooner.



“I\'ll figure it out,” Harry said simply.



“I certainly hope so.”



~ * ~



Harry spent the rest of the day reviewing the interrogation reports. Ron ditched his team and stayed behind in the office to help him.



“I don\'t understand,” Ron said with a note of despair entering his voice. “How can interrogating twenty-four prisoners render nothing useful?”



“I don\'t know,” Harry admitted. “Maybe we aren\'t asking the right questions.”



“The questioning seems to have been thorough enough,” Ron objected. “The interrogators went by the book.”



“Then obviously the book isn\'t good enough,” Harry said firmly, pushing the scrolls aside. “I want to talk to the prisoners myself.”



Ron winced a little and whispered something under his breath that nearly made Harry jump out of his skin.



“What!” Harry snapped. “Ron, what did you just say?”



“I said, there are only three of them left alive,” Ron said very quietly. “The rest of them were Kissed last week.”



“What – already!??” Harry found himself almost shouting. “Why?”



“Diggory\'s orders,” Ron explained reluctantly. “They were interrogated, had memories drawn from them, and then they were disposed of, you know, for the sake of world security. He doesn\'t want a repeat of the mass breakout from Azkaban that we had two years ago...”



Harry issued a deep sigh and clenched his fists, trying to compose himself. He hated, hated the idea of the Dementor\'s Kiss with a passion, but having it delivered so quickly and summarily, to so many at once? Not that the bastards didn\'t deserve to die horribly, but still... Harry shut his eyes, longing to be somewhere else – anywhere else.



“Harry?” Ron asked.



“I want to talk to the remaining three,” Harry said simply. “As soon as possible. Can you firecall Percy and ask him to get me in?”



“Hmm,” Ron mused. “Harry, I don\'t know, are you sure that\'s wise for you to be interrogating them? These are the men who\'d been torturing Severus...”



Harry\'s eyes narrowed involuntarily. “So what are you saying, Ron?”



“All I\'m saying…you won\'t do anything stupid, right? Like cast an unauthorized Unforgivable on one of them?”



Harry shrugged. “If I do, will you help me dispose of the body?”



“Maybe.”



“Good, I\'ll take a maybe.”



~ * ~





Severus was jolted back to reality when he realized that Luna had stopped reading. For the last half an hour he had no longer been following the strange poetry, but had simply got lost in his own thoughts.



“My throat is sore,” Luna complained.



“You\'ve read more than enough. Thank you.”



She shook her head. “I\'m beginning to think poetry is meant to be read out loud. Will you read to me?”



“If you like,” he agreed, accepting the book from her.



She shifted in the armchair comfortably and shut her eyes. Tripod jumped off the couch, then onto her lap, curling into himself.



“Read to me, please,” Luna asked.



...



But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed.

Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast.

It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye.

You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.

You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living.

And though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing.

For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.





~ * ~



It wasn\'t until eleven at night that Harry finally made it home. Luna greeted him by smacking him on the head with a slender hardback book.



“What took you so long?” she demanded.



“Worked until seven. Went to see Lily and Ginny. Then went back to work.”



“Oh. That\'s great,” Luna approved.



“It is?”



“Of course. You are ninety-six hours away from having a nervous breakdown. Then you can go on another stress leave and stay with Severus.”



Harry chuckled under his breath. “Tell me he isn\'t sleeping on the floor.”



“He isn\'t sleeping on the floor.”



“Did he eat?”



“He ate, he rested, and he read.” Luna waved the small book at Harry.



“Really?” Harry\'s grin couldn\'t be wider. “Luna! That\'s amazing. He wouldn\'t read with me. How did you get him to read?”



Luna grinned back at him. “He may have felt sorry for me.”



Luna departed and Harry went upstairs. For a few minutes he stood at the threshold of Severus\' bedroom and stared at the bed that the two of them had shared for the last three weeks.



Severus was sound asleep, sprawled across the entire bed, with no space left for Harry. Tripod was sleeping on the pillow next to him, issuing his usual loud, soothing, half snoring and half purring sound.



Harry smiled slightly. Severus was still not quite himself, but he was clearly on the mend. The time of desperate dependency was over, and as far as Harry could tell his physical presence in Severus\' bed was no longer needed.



Harry sighed nostalgically at the bittersweet mix of emotions coursing through him: an odd combination of joy, pride and loss all at once. He had felt something like that when Lily took her first steps. He was proud, deliriously happy... and at the same time, there was a tiny pang of regret, because he realized that something had changed forever with those steps, and Lily would never need him the same way again.



Harry smiled again and shut the door quietly, heading to his own bedroom.



To Be Continued...

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Author\'s Note: Poetry is from Kahlil Gibran\'s “The Prophet” (On Love; On Houses)