The Death of a Soul

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Chapter Twenty Nine

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Seconds after Harry was struck down by the Expelliarmus Curse, Madam Pomfrey arrived into the Room of Requirement and, at lightning speed, assessed the situation. Professor Albus Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall was rigidly standing over a prone Harry Potter, wands still drawn. Severus Potter was sitting slouched against the opposite wall, holding his side and coughing slightly. Seeing that Snape appeared to be somewhat coherent, Pomfrey rushed over to Harry, and discovered that even though he was alive, his wheezing foretold that Harry had several broken ribs, and that at least one of them had possibly punctured his lungs. One of Harry’s legs and both of his arms were bent in such an unnatural way that even with all of her years as a medi-witch, the sight left her cold.

Harry needed immediate medical attention. Now.

Madam Pomfrey, unable to shield her anger any longer, walked back over to Snape, and glared down at the Potions master, ignoring the blood on the wall just above his head.

“What have you done now, Severus?” she hissed.

Snape didn’t answer, but looked up and snarled.

Albus finally spoke. “Harry… tried to kill Severus, Poppy,” he said distantly.

Pomfrey quickly walked back over to Harry and knelt down, placing her hand over his cold and clammy forehead. He didn’t have much time. “Spare me the details, Albus. This boy needs to get to the infirmary now!”

Albus and Minerva slowly moved from their fixed stance, and carefully helped Poppy, gently lifting Harry using a strong Levitation Spell. As they passed Severus, Poppy scowled at him.

“Do you require assistance?” she asked - only because it was warranted.

Snape narrowed his eyes and, being the stubborn and proud man that he was, sneered, “I can bloody well walk, thank you.” Using the wall to brace himself, he stood gingerly, and tried to walk as normal as he possibly could.

Harry, on the other hand, was levitated the entire way to the hospital wing, simply because it was just too dangerous to use the in-school Floo Network. Once there, Harry was slowly lowered to a prepared bed, and his limbs were adjusted carefully making sure they didn’t receive any more damage than there already was. After being safely secured to the bed, Pomfrey turned to Dumbledore and McGonagall.

“Out. Both of you.”

“Poppy, Harry is a danger to you and the students here,” Albus began quietly, his voice monotone. “I think it best to contact...”

“You do what you have to, Albus. I will not wait another minute while you decide this boy’s future. My main concern is to keep him alive. Now go and let me do my job,” she hissed impatiently then turned to Snape who was leaning against a nearby bedframe. “And you will take the furthest bed from here. I will not have you disrupting me.”

Snape said nothing but moved slowly toward a distant bed. Dumbledore, for the first time, looked over at Severus. He frowned, noticing that Snape's attention was solely on Harry, and that the Potions master was not looking at Harry in anger or betrayal, but rather with an unguarded expression of sadness and possibly regret. Albus looked back to the beaten youth on the bed, and couldn't help but wonder just how much of this was Severus’s fault. He nodded to himself as he realised its not just Snape's fault – but his own, as well. A quick movement caught Dumbledore’s eye, and turned back to Snape. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips in a twisted curl. Perhaps Snape had read his mind.

Perhaps. But what does it matter now anyway? Harry's fate was now out of both their hands.

With an abrupt nudge, Madam Pomfrey ushered Dumbledore and McGonagall to the door, and then walked back to Harry’s bed. Without even a glance to Snape, she closed the curtain around her and Harry. A simple flick of her wrist removed Harry’s clothes, and then carefully, Poppy straightened his twisted limbs. Even though Harry was unconscious, he groaned loudly at the small and measured movements.

Snape, hearing his husband in agony, crawled onto his bed, and curled up under the covers.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


After fifty minutes, Pomfrey finally emerged from Harry’s closed-off bed, and retrieved a small bottle.

“Drink this,” she said, handing Snape the potion. He snorted. “I’m in no mood for an argument, Severus, now drink,” she ordered firmly.

Reluctantly, Snape drank the vile and smelly liquid, consciously reminding himself to add an ingredient to make the potion scentless. He looked up at Poppy who in return snatched it from him, then turned to head back to her office.

“Will he live?” Snape said through a hoarse throat.

Poppy spun around, and approached him dangerously. “Since you are his husband, I will tell you. Potter will live, but the damage that you have done to him will be irreversible.”

“That boy tried to kill me,” Snape reminded her, through clenched teeth.

“You may have fooled everyone else, Severus Snape, but I know what you have been doing to ‘that boy’ so don’t you dare try to lie to me.” Snape could only stare at her. “Why else would you care if Potter lives or not?” she challenged.

Snape opened his mouth to argue, but the words had left him. He looked over to the closed-off area where his husband was lying. His expression softened, then looked back up to a furious-looking Pomfrey.

“Will you keep me informed?” he asked calmly, trying not sound as weak as he felt.

Poppy stood there silently before speaking. “Yes. But in the meantime, Severus, you will not come near him. Understand?”

Snape looked back to the hanging curtains and nodded.

She turned to leave. “I will be back in a moment to tend to you,” she said sharply, and walked briskly to her office.

Snape lay back down, but his eyes never left Harry's bed.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Later that evening, when she was sure that Harry was out of immediate danger, Madam Pomfrey Floo’d to St Mungo’s to give them her diagnosis. Hearing her leave, Severus slipped off his bed, and walked silently over to Harry. He parted the hanging curtain, and was amazed to discover that the bed wasn’t surrounded by some sort of a Concealment Charm. He gasped as his eyes finally fell to his husband.

Harry's face was paler than last time he was here, and his breathing was deathly shallow. Snape swore he heard wheezing coming from Harry, but it could have been from blocked sinuses. He moved over to Harry’s side, and gently tried to lift his hand, but found that it was strapped to the bed frame – along with his ankles. Of course, he’d be strapped down. Madam Pomfrey was an excellent medi-witch but she wasn’t imprudent.

A sudden loud noise made Severus spin around.

“Severus Snape! What did I tell you?” Poppy snapped.

“He is my husband. Remember? ” he said viciously.

Harry's hand twitched and he softly moaned.

“Move away from him, Severus,” she warned. She looked down at Harry, and saw his distraught expression. “Can you not see how you're affecting him?”

The Potions master looked down at Harry, and sadly frowned, realising. He nodded, slowly stepping backwards until the back of his knees hit the opposite bed. He fumbled toward his bed, watching Harry the whole time. The curtain closed once again, and Snape continued to listen to Harry’s unsteady breathing throughout the night. It was a long time before he eventually fell asleep.


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“I want to thank you, Harry.”

The Boy-Who-Lived jumped, and his eyes opened wide, staring at nothing save blackness. He knew that voice. It was the voice that haunted many of his dreams. Harry shivered and pulled his legs to his chest tight. He pushed himself further back into the bed he was lying on.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

“Merely to say thank you, of course. I’ve been waiting patiently for this moment, and I knew you wouldn’t fail me.”

Harry shivered again. “Go away.” His voice was getting weaker.

“You needn’t worry about me, Harry. It will be over soon enough, and you’ll be able to see your parents again,” the ethereal voice said in a mocking tone, as though it were talking to a child.

“Then, go away,” Harry whispered, laying his head on top of his knees. He could barely breathe.

“No, I don’t think so. I want to stay, and witness the demise of Harry Potter.”

Suddenly, a bolt of light pierced through the darkness. Harry ducked under the bed seconds before the Killing Curse hit him.

“GET OUT!” Harry screamed as he felt Voldemort’s presence inside his mind.

“What are you afraid of, Harry?” he mused. “Don’t you tire of being the saviour? Do you not wish your life to be over?”

“Shut up! You know nothing about me!”

“Oh, but I do, Harry. I feel your anger,” Voldemort said in an imitation of a concerned voice. “You’re angry because everyone has abandoned you, and you're left all alone once again. How much more can you take, Harry Potter?”

“I can take anything you throw at me!” Harry yelled, now standing in front of him, wand raised.

“Do you honestly think that your anger will be enough to defeat me?”

“Harry!” a deep voice cried out.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Harry gasped and bolted straight up, holding his side.

“Potter!” Madam Pomfrey yelled. “Lie back down! You are not completely healed!”

“Where… where is he?” Harry choked out.

“He is in a meeting with Professor Dumbledore and Minister Fudge,” she replied irritably. “Now lay back down and drink this.”

Harry closed his eyes, and blindly took the phial Poppy handed him. He was thankful she thought it was Snape he was just referring to.

“What was your dream about, Potter?”

Making a face as he swallowed, Harry winced from pain as he held out the container, and whispered, “I don’t know.” Harry glanced up at her, and though she was obviously angry, she fortunately didn’t push him.

“What was the last thing you remember?” Pomfrey asked matter-of-factly.

Harry knew she wasn’t referring to his dream. He hung his head and sighed.

“I remember everything. I…” He took a deep breath the best that he could through his painful lungs. “I tried to kill him.”

A few moments of silence passed then Poppy replied, “Well, it’s good thing you didn’t, Potter. You wouldn’t be here, you'd already be in Azkaban,” she said sharply.

Harry nodded. “Why … Why am I still here?” he asked, peering up at her through his fringe.

She took a deep breath herself then grit her teeth. “I am not the one you should be asking, Potter.” And she shouldn’t be the one to tell him. “Now, lie back down. That potion should have worked by now.”

Harry nodded and lay back down, not resisting when she attached his restraints once more. Not that he could anyway. His body ached everywhere, and was simply amazed he could move any part of his body. He knew that he was struck hard, and judging by Pomfrey's reaction, and a brief glimpse into her mind, it was amazing that he was still alive. Harry wondered, if not for the first time, why was he? He repeated that single thought until he could no longer keep his eyes open.


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“Severus, are you sure you are well enough to discuss this?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, Albus,” Snape said flatly. He wasn’t really, but that was beside the point. “Now. May we continue?”

Albus and Cornelius Fudge exchanged a quick look, and then Fudge sighed.

“Very well,” Fudge said. “Severus, you realise of course that Harry will be taken to Azkaban once Madam Pomfrey releases him. He will then be held there until a trial can be arranged.”

“That is my understanding.” Snape said. Then he paused. “What if I refuse to testify?”

Both men’s eyes opened wide. “What?” they cried together.

“I said: What. If. I. Refuse…”

“I heard what you said, Severus! But you can't be serious!” Fudge said, voice rising.

Snape smirked. “Of course, I am serious. I would have not asked if I wasn’t.”

“Why, Severus?” Albus asked skeptically.

“Because he is my husband, Albus,” Snape said simply. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “He has been under tremendous amounts of pressure, and I admit that I was entirely at fault.”

They stared at each other, Snape never once losing his blank expression. Finally breaking eye contact, Albus turned to Fudge.

“Cornelius, I think it best to discuss this at a later time. It has only been a few days, and we have not yet spoken with Harry.”

“And what would be the point of that?” Severus snapped. “You already believe him to be guilty.”

“On the contrary, Severus. I am more than willing to listen to Harry, and hear what he has to say,” Albus said with a small sarcastic tone. “I would like to hear his side of it.”

Fudge glanced between the two agitated men but said nothing. Snape growled suddenly.

“If you like, I would be more than happy to testify under Veritaserum that I did in fact provoke him, and that he had no choice but to defend himself. Would that satisfy you?” No reply. “If you remember correctly, there was no problem the last time I was given it,” he finished smugly.


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“Are you Severus Snape?”

“Yes.”

“Were you present when Voldemort and Harry Potter confronted each other on October 31, 1997?”

“Yes.”

“Did Voldemort and Harry Potter each cast the Killing Curse?”

“Yes.”

“Did you intervene between the two killing curses, thus preventing the curses to take affect?”

“Yes.”

“Did you witness Voldemort vanish after the attempted curse?”

“Yes.”

A slight pause.

“Did you save Harry Potter’s life that night?”

“Yes.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Fudge glanced between the two wizards who were having another stare down.

“I will need to consult with the Ministry,” Fudge said.

“Of course,” Snape said dismissively. “Do what you must. Is he allowed to stay here until then?”

Cornelius looked over to Albus who cleared his throat, directing the attention back to him.

“Poppy has not given his release as of yet, and until she does, I would assume so. For now, he will stay in the infirmary only,” Dumbledore said, giving Snape a sharp look.

“He is heavily sedated, is he not?” Fudge asked, addressing Albus.

Albus paused a moment, then, “Yes. I am also assured by Poppy that he is unable to use any magic. Even wandless.”

“Albus, Minerva and myself have already subdued him with a powerful containment spell,” Snape concurred. “Everyone will be safe. No one will be in danger.”

“And you as well, Severus?” Albus asked smiling slightly, knowing that that could imply that Severus was the one that everyone should be worried about.

Snape nodded once with a twisted grin. Cornelius frowned, confused.


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It had been almost two weeks since Harry was confined to the infirmary. It was speculated by most that Harry and Snape had dueled, but it was Harry who had received the attempted deathblow. But since nothing further was elaborated, all everyone could do was assume. However, it was a well-known fact that Snape was confined to his quarters - by explicit orders or by his own accord - and Harry was still in the infirmary under a 24 hour watch.


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Draco Malfoy finally found Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley standing outside the Gryffindor common room, talking quietly.

“Granger,” he said by way of greeting.

Hermione jumped and spun around.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Ron hissed loudly.

Draco ignored him. “May I have a word with you?”

“Anything you have to say to her, Malfoy, you can bloody well say in front of me!”

Draco glanced sideways at the redhead, then back to Hermione. “Granger?”

Hermione pressed her lips together. “Only if Ron is present.”

Malfoy shot Ron another glance then shrugged. “Fine. Can we go somewhere private?”

Ron opened his mouth, but the young witch spoke first. “All right. This way,” she said, pointing to the left.

The three of them walked over to an empty corridor.

“Well? What do you want?” Hermione said, trying to remain calm.

Draco sighed and looked over at a wall. “I was wondering if you…” his voice began to fade. He cleared his throat, and then looked her straight in the eye. “I was wondering if you would help me see Potter.”

“What?” Ron shouted.

The blond cringed at the loud voice, but remained looking solely at Hermione. She narrowed her eyes.

“Why?”

“There's something he needs to know,” he said, offering no other explanation.

“And what's that, Malfoy? How disappointed you are that he didn’t die?” Ron spat.

Hermione continued to stare at Malfoy, trying to decide. Finally, “That’s not good enough, Malfoy. How do I know that you won't -”

“I won't!” Draco said impatiently. He immediately closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “I won't,” he repeated softly.

Hermione clenched her teeth. Even though she knew the boy was a prat, she also knew Malfoy had been helping Harry. She sighed loudly. “You have one hour, Malfoy,” she said firmly.

“WHAT? Hermione, are you mad? How can you say yes to this arrogant, snobbish, snotty…”

Draco's expression softened. “Thank you, Granger.”

“…egotistical, self-absorbed…”

Hermione and Draco shared a small smile at Ron’s limited vocabulary.

“Come on, Ron,” she said, tugging on Ron’s jumper.

Draco waited outside the Gryffindor common room, and then scrunched his brows at the silky material that Hermione presented him with.

“It’s an Invisibility Cloak,” she stated simply.

Malfoy nodded then mouthed, “Thank you.”

Even if he had said it aloud, she wouldn’t have heard him anyway over Ron’s now-explicit language.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Draco took a couple of deep breaths before peering into the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey stepped into the fireplace, and disappeared behind a cloud of green smoke. Draco sighed and stepped in quietly. Like the last time he was here, there was only one bed occupied, and, like last time, a curtain closed it off. He timidly approached, and held his breath as he parted the curtain. He silently moved over to stand beside Harry’s bed, and tried not to breathe too heavily to give himself away.

Harry’s body was still save his eyes that were rapidly moving under his loosely closed lids. ‘He must be dreaming,’ Draco thought. Hard telling what he was dreaming about though. A thin film of sweat coated Harry's forehead, and Draco resisted the urge to wipe it off with a nearby flannel. He flinched when the prone boy’s wrist twitched, and looked down. It was then that Draco noticed that Harry’s wrists were strapped down. He couldn’t help but sigh and look away.

When Draco looked back, Harry’s face was completely relaxed, and his eyes had stopped moving. The blond smiled warmly, and sighed again that the dream – or the nightmare - was now over. But something else had caught Draco's attention. Harry’s chest had risen, almost as if he was taking a deep breath with him. A second behind.

Draco carefully leaned over and whispered, “Potter? Can you hear me?”

Silence. Disappointed, Draco sighed again, and again Harry’s chest rose and fell with him. Draco smiled.

The sound of the infirmary door swinging open made Draco jump, and his heart sank trying to figure out what he should do. Should he risk running? Hide under the bed? Would he be able to risk anything without getting caught? But before he could decide on anything, the curtain flew open, and there stood Severus Snape. Draco's breath caught in his chest, and he stared at him, praying that this man wasn’t able to see him. Or hear him. Fortunately, it was clear that he did neither, because Snape leaned over Harry, and whispered in his ear.

“Harry. Can you hear me?”

Draco's eyes widened when Harry’s wrist flinched again, but Snape hadn’t noticed. Harry’s face remained neutral. Malfoy bit his lower lip to keep quiet.

“I hope you can hear me, Harry,” Snape said a little louder. “I want you to know that I forgive you. I know that you were just angry at me and… I shouldn’t have provoked you.”

Draco opened his mouth in shock. ‘So it was Harry that…’ Draco shook that thought away, and his eyes moved back and forth between the two of them, looking for some kind of response from Harry. There was none.

“Did you hear me, Harry? I said I forgive you, and I'm going to help you.” Snape placed a hand on the sheet covering Harry’s chest, and began rubbing small circles across it. “They want to send you to Azkaban, but I won't let them. You are my husband, Harry, and I won't let them take you away from me.”

Draco could feel himself turning green. He knew that Snape was a selfish man, but this…This went beyond that.

“You're mine, Harry,” he whispered. Snape paused long enough to place a soft kiss on Harry’s sweaty forehead. “Mine,” he repeated. “And I won't ever let you go.”

Draco placed his hand over his mouth.

“I will make up for the times I wasn’t there for you. For not listening to you. I will do anything you ask. Anything you want. Just don’t leave me, Harry,” he murmured softly in his ear.

Snape's hand pulled the sheet down, and stroked Harry’s naked chest pausing ever now and then, slowly feathering his fingers over to Harry's nipples. Draco's hand tightened over his mouth to keep from screaming. How could he do this to Harry? While he’s unconscious!

“Together, we will work it out. Together, we will help you get better,” Snape said softly as his lips grazed over Harry’s. “I love you, Harry Potter. You are mine forever.”

Draco felt compelled to jump up and run away, but yet he also wanted to stay and protect Harry. He wanted to scream at Snape and push him away, covering Harry’s body with his own. Most importantly, Draco wanted to kill this man. But … he did nothing. Draco could only stare in disgust at his teacher, and watch as Snape's lips descended down Harry's body, applying soft kisses on it whilst his hand disappeared under the flimsy sheet.

“Soon, Harry,” Snape murmured against Harry's skin. “Soon I will see to it that you will claim me yours forever.”

Draco quietly lowered himself to his knees and looked down, helpless. He shook his head in disbelief, then after gaining a little composure; he glanced up at Harry, and was shocked to see his face. Harry had turned his head to the side, and was now facing Draco! Now Draco had to watch. Even though Harry's eyes were closed, and he was probably - hopefully - unconscious, Draco would somehow be there for him. It was a demented way of looking at it, but it was all Draco could do.

For now.

Through his peripheral vision, Draco could see Snape's head move further down Harry's body until it stopped over what Draco knew was Harry’s crotch. The heavy breathing Snape was making was enough to make the blond sick, but he couldn’t stop looking at Harry's face. Draco blinked several times to release the tears forming in his eyes, and held his breath as he saw Harry's mouth slowly part, and heard the soft and unsteady breathing escaping out.

Draco squeezed his hands into fists, and wanted desperately to reach up and touch him. He wanted to whisper to Harry that it will soon be all over, and that if Harry wanted him to, he would Obliviate this memory from his mind - as well as his own. If Harry would remember it, that is. Draco held his breath again as he watched Harry’s expression tightened. It was almost over.

Snape finally stood, leaned over Harry's cheek, and gently kissed it.

“I miss you, Harry,” Snape said, stroking Harry’s cheek. “You’ll be home soon. I promise,” he said a little louder before slowly turning, leaving the room as quiet as it once was.

Draco finally let out a long breath of relief and bowed his head. A warm sense of relief filled him that Snape was finally gone, and away from Harry. Suddenly, Draco's eyes shot open and his face flushed. He was so embarrassed. What would Harry think of him now if he were to find out that he had stayed and watched? He had to get out of there - if for no other reason but to retch. He glanced up and froze as his grey eyes met green. His stomach sank. Could Harry see him? Had he heard him?

Draco moved slightly to the right, and was relieved to see that Harry was just staring out in space. Draco stood cautiously, and walked as softly as he could to the end of the bed, careful not to use it for support.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.

Draco's muscles locked, and couldn’t find the air to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeated, still staring at the curtain. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He paused but Draco still remained silent. Harry sighed. “And… I'm sorry for what happened in the changing room. I shouldn’t have…”

Draco threw off the cloak. “No! I’m sorry! I should have never said that to you! I should have never told you anything! How I felt… How I … It was wrong! … And…and I shouldn’t have been here!”

Harry slowly turned his head, and looked at Draco sadly. “I’m glad you were.”

“What? Potter, that was a very private moment with your husband, and I should have never…”

“But I'm glad you were.”

“What? Why?” Draco exclaimed.

Harry looked away. “I felt… less lonely. Less empty.” He looked back at Draco, and his eyes smiled.

Draco's, however, were as wide as his gaping mouth. He blinked suddenly when he noticed that Harry was looking over his left shoulder. The blond’s heart fell. Could it be Snape that was behind him? Timidly, he turned around. Madam Pomfrey had her hands on her hips, scowling at him. Draco felt his face redden.

“I'm not even going to bother to ask what this is all about, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco's mouth opened and closed several times.

Poppy glanced between the two young men. “You have exactly five minutes to vacate the infirmary,” she said sharply.

Draco hung his head. “Yes, Madam Pomfrey. I’m sorry. I’ll just go now and I …” Draco stopped as it finally dawned on him what she had just said.

He looked up with his mouth hanging open again. For a brief second, Draco could have sworn that he saw her smile before she spun around and left. He looked back at Harry who was trying to refrain himself from smiling. Draco arched a brow and smirked.

“Glad to see that amused you, Potter,” he drawled, though it didn’t have his normal sarcastic tone.

Harry slowly shook his head and smiled, but then he quickly frowned, and stared down at the end of the bed. “How can he make me stay with him, Malfoy? I almost killed him. I wanted to kill him.”

Draco looked away and barely shrugged. “I don’t know, Potter. But… but he’s probably clever enough to manipulate the Ministry. Like he did last time,” he said as an afterthought.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Malfoy?” Draco looked at him curiously. “I really did want to kill him.”

Draco paused and thought for a moment. “Maybe that’s what he wanted you to do,” he said finally.

Harry’s brows scrunched together. “But why would…”

“Time, Mr Malfoy.”

They both jumped. It hadn't been quite five minutes, but Draco knew a ‘don’t argue with me if you know what's good for you’ if he heard one.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” he said.

He glanced one more time at Harry, trying to give him a comforting smile, and then back at Poppy. She raised a brow at him, and then looked down at the cloak in his arms.

“Make sure no one sees you,” she warned.

Draco knew better than to laugh. He quickly threw on the cloak, but not before giving Harry one last look. Harry nodded.

“Bye, Malfoy.”

“Bye, Potter,” he whispered.

“Malfoy?” He knew Draco had stopped. “Thank Hermione for me.” Silently, Draco left.

Harry looked up at Pomfrey, then down to the phial in her hand. He nodded, understanding, and she released one of his wrists. He held out his hand.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Harry was tired and he needed to catch his breath. He had just had another run in with Voldemort, dodging curses, as well as casting them. Voldemort had vanished abruptly when the Dark Lord was struck with seven curses at once by unseen attackers. Harry had received one of curses by accident, and landed face first into a wide bush, sinking into the middle of it. He was knocked unconscious when his head hit a concealed rock.

When he had finally come to, Harry’s head was throbbing, and he could feel blood running down his temple. He cringed as he heard his name being shouted over and over again, and held his head in his palms trying to stop the pounding that was wracking his brain. He briefly stumbled, trying to stand before righting himself, and then walked blindly into an open field. He looked up and, through bleary eyes, he could see a large tree in the clearing. He managed to reach it, and slide down its trunk.

He was drifting in and out of unconsciousness, but he heard two voices before he succumbed to darkness.

“Potter? Are you mad? What are you doing out here?”

“SssSeveruss Sssnape. Loyal to the end?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Suddenly, Harry jerked awake, and he blinked owlishly. How long had he been unconscious? His eyes darted around before landing on Professor Snape that was lying ten feet away. His eyes then fell on a wand that was pointed straight at him.

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

Harry’s head hit the tree, and he lost consciousness again.

“I want to thank you, Harry.”

The Boy-Who-Lived jumped, and his eyes opened wide, staring at nothing save blackness. He knew that voice. It was the voice that haunted many of his dreams. Harry shivered, and pulled his legs to his chest tight. He pushed himself further back into the tree he was lying against.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

“Merely to say thank you, of course. I’ve been waiting patiently for this moment, and I knew you wouldn’t fail me.”

Harry shivered again. “Go away.” His voice was getting weaker.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Harry screamed as the restraints dug into to wrists as he tried to sit up. He fell back on the bed, panting.

“Welcome back, Harry,” Severus said.

Harry’s head snapped over to his husband, and could feel his blood rush back to face as he heard that dreaded voice.

“So. I heard you had a visitor,” Severus said flatly.

Harry paled.

“Voldemort? Visiting your dreams again?”

Inwardly, Harry sighed. It wasn’t about Malfoy. “Yes. But I think they're memories,” he replied, looking away.

Snape stood from where he was calmly sitting. “And what do you remember?” he asked sharply.

Harry furrowed his brows at him questionably.

“Well?” Snape hissed.

“I don’t remember,” he spat, suddenly angry.

Snape narrowed his eyes, but then abruptly quirked his lip, smiling wickedly. “They're talking about sending you to Azkaban.”

Harry snarled. He knew what was coming next.

“However,” Snape began, his smile turning to a full grin. “I have convinced them -”

The infirmary doors swung open. Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge approached.

Now, standing at the foot of Harry’s bed, Fudge said, “Harry Potter, the Ministry and I have decided to charge you with attempted murder of Severus Potter. However, until a trial can commence, you will be placed in temporary custody at St Mungo’s Hospital to determine if you are competent to stand trial.”

Harry looked over at Snape and smirked. He was going to Azkaban after all. Suddenly, Snape returned the smirked, and Harry looked at him suspiciously.

“Minister Fudge,” Snape began smugly. “Will you allow me to spend one night with my husband before he goes?” Harry’s eyes widened. “After all, this might be the last night I get to spend with him.”

Harry looked at Fudge, panicking, but was unable to speak. Fudge pressed his lips together tightly, contemplating.

“I assure you, minister, I will be quite safe,” Snape said, watching Harry’s expression darkened from the corner of his eye. “I have arranged with Madam Pomfrey potions that will…calm him considerably. So he wouldn’t be able to cause damage to me. Or to himself, of course.” He gave Harry a quick wink.

Harry snapped his head over to Fudge. “No!” he cried, but his voice was but a whisper.

Cornelius Fudge sighed, and glanced over at Albus who glaring at Severus through slitted eyes.

“You know I’ll need to get the Ministry’s approval for that. However, they might agree, with the condition that magical restraints be used upon his wrists and neck.”

Snape tipped his head at him. “Yes, of course.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore began, with a deep warning in his voice. “If you think that I will stand by and…”

“Surely, that is my right… is it not, Cornelius?” Snape said, purposely ignoring Albus. “He is my husband after all, and I would never do anything to hurt him.”

Dumbledore clenched his teeth, then looked over at Harry.

The young wizard sighed, then nodded his consent. Harry did need one more night here at Hogwarts to finish up with some personal business with Hermione, and if it meant tolerating Snape to do it… He would. He was going to Azkaban either way so it really didn’t matter. After several minutes of silence, Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge exchanged looks.

“Very well. I will contact the Ministry, then inform you of their decision,” Fudge said. “You do understand that Mr Potter will be leaving first thing in the morning.”

Snape smirked at Albus. “Yes, of course.”

Reluctantly, Dumbledore left with Fudge, leaving Snape alone with Harry, but not without giving Snape one last look of warning.

“Not to worry, Harry,” Snape said, smirking. “I promise this last night will be memorable.”

Harry’s stomach clenched. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.


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