Jigsaw

CHAPTER 24

“You know you don’t have to stay up, I’m quite capable of looking after myself.” Harry opened his sleepy eyes, to focus on Snape sitting on the far side of the bedroom, a bucket sitting between his knees and sweat trickling down his forehead. Snape was practically yellow this time around, the potion he was taking physically expelling the curse from his body by any means possible. Three day’s and nights he’d been like this, hourly taking swills of the blood red potion he’d created despite how sick it was making him.

“It’s alright I’m not tired.” Yawning despite his declaration Harry stood up and walked over to the basin of cold water resting on the set of draws. Plunging the flannel into the icy water, Harry then brought the cloth over to the elder wizard gently wiping the sweat from his forehead before wrapping the cold cloth around the man’s neck in an effort to cool his fever. Snape watched him the entire time, his vision returning rapidly with every swill of potion he took. “You seem to be following me better than yesterday.” Harry whispered as he sat down on the bed opposite Snape’s seat in the corner, desperate to turn the conversation off himself.

“Yes, the blurred fog has cleared, by the end of the week the curse should be broken completely.” Snape smiled at Harry, but the smile was torn from his face as he bent over and threw up violently into bucket. Harry heaved in sympathy but managed to keep his late night snack down. Coughing Snape flopped back against the chair, his eyes closed as he relaxed after the effort. Harry hated seeing Snape like he was, a man so strong willed, so arrogantly stubborn. Admittedly Harry had liked the blind Snape, something about having the man totally dependent on him appealing. Yet this was different a dependant Snape he could handle, not a sick one.

“Do you want to lie down for a while.” Harry flicked his wand at the bucket clearing it out so that the putrid smell didn’t linger in the bedroom air. If he wanted to admit to himself, the prospect of sharing a bed with Snape for a week had been more than appealing to Harry when it had been first suggested however Snape had done very little lying down preferring to doze in the chair by the tinted window when his illness allowed. So it was somewhat a shock that Snape actually nodded when Harry made his suggestion. “Okay, come on.” Pulling down the sheets and blankets, Harry helped Snape undress down to his thin cotton nightshirt, before guiding him into the bed. The bed wasn’t overly large, certainly not as big as Snape’s at Hogwart’s but it was comfortable for the two of them.

“Thank-you.” Snape whispered as he laid his head down in exhaustion on the cool pillow.

“You’re welcome, maybe the rest will settle your stomach.” Harry glanced at the two already empty vials of crimson potion, knowing that there was still five to go. Uncomfortable with sitting in the chair, Harry slid himself into bed beside Snape and propping himself up against the bed head. There was silence in the room for a long while and Harry had thought perhaps Snape had nodded off, but as he reached for his magazine he felt the bed move and glanced down to watch Snape turn over to face him, a strange expression on his face.

“May I ask you a personal question Potter?” Harry frowned a little in concern but reluctantly nodded, wondering what on earth Snape had to ask him. Snape hesitated for a moment, seemingly not having expected an affirmative response. “Are you courting anyone?” Harry couldn’t help but laugh, having heard no one but Aunt Marge ever use that word. “Do you find something I’ve said amusing Potter?” Clearly put out by Harry’s laughter Snape scowled at him, only causing Harry to laugh harder.

“No, it’s just no one’s ever asked me like that before.” Harry reigned in his laughter as he continued. “You mean am I dating anyone?” Reconfirming the question, Harry watched as Snape nodded cautiously his stern expression not giving anything away. “Well no not really. A few flings here and there but nothing serious, not like marriage or anything.” Harry watched intently for any signs of a change in Snape’s expression but nothing happened and the wizard merely nodded again in thoughtful silence. Annoyed a little that Snape hadn’t explained himself or his question, Harry pushed for a reply. “Why do you ask?” Snape ignored the question and rolled over away from Harry who sighed heavily. Once again Snape had ended the conversation with no hint of explaining himself, or giving away what he was thinking. Harry pulled one of the Quidditch magazines into his lap, opening to its first page to begin reading but before he could, Snape spoke again.

“Do you remember what I said to you that night when you faced Voldemort?” Harry closed his eyes tightly trying to find his memories, if at all he remembered. Unfortunately though he didn’t remember and opened his eyes to glance down at Snape who was staring at him from over his shoulder waiting for a reply.

“No.” Harry whispered watching as Snape nodded and then in silence turned back over.

“It doesn’t matter, it wasn’t important.” Snape’s voice trailed off and Harry assumed the man had slipped into sleep. Harry had a feeling that although Snape had said it wasn’t important those words to him were. Not for the first time Harry cursed Voldemort, both for existing in the first place but for also robbing him of his memories and the people he loved. With a sigh Harry fell into the depths of his magazine, his mind not really paying attention to the words he was reading. His thoughts were already lost on Severus Snape, and now after the strange questions, even more so.

TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>