Between Dusk and Dawn

Disclaimer: Same as before.

A/N: Here's an other chapter!! Woo! For those of you who read songfics, I want to pimp my newest one shot, Seduction and Regret. It's m y version of Snape going to Voldemort and coming back to Dumbledore, and I haven't gotten a review one on it! *pouts* Next chapter, I will answer some of my reviews, promise! I hate not being able to review them in my profile!

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Not wasting any time, Severus got up from his seat and practically ran to his room. It was then that he realized that he did not have his wand to put up a locking charm. Something akin to panic began to set in. He was in his rooms with no way to defend himself and there was something wrong with Harry on top of dangerous ‘things’ prowling the grounds.

Snape began searching the large bureau for something, anything. He dug through a drawer full of socks and pants, then a drawer full of undershirts, and finally a drawer of jumpers. In desperation, he grasped at the bottom of the drawer and his hand touched something smooth. He pulled out a strange wand. It appeared to be made of walnut, and definitely not his, but when he pointed it at the door and said the incantation, the door locked. At least something was going right for him.

Running his hands through the stubble on his head, Severus walked into the small sitting room and began perusing the books on the shelf. He was suddenly not tired at all. None of the tomes on the shelf held any interest for the Potions Master and he decided to run himself a hot bath. He’d not been allowed a long soak since his incarceration.

Rummaging through the bathroom closet, Severus found several bottles of oils and added them to his bath. He opened the bottle of shampoo and his nose was immediately assaulted by the smell of sandalwood and patchouli. Snape inhaled the scent deeply. When he was a professor, he often made his own shampoo and these two smells were the ones that he so often chose. Their earthy fragrance grounded him and melted all of his stresses away.

Squeezing a dollop into his hands and running his hands over his head, he frowned at the small amount of hair on his head. He always hated his hair short, even if the potions fumes often times made it lank and greasy. His thoughts were interrupted by a wild scream and then loud hissing. He quickly rinsed his hair and toweled off, grabbing the cool silk robe from the hanger.

Severus grabbed the wand from the night stand and walked quietly to the door and listened. Again he heard a scream, probably from the green sitting room he’d been in earlier, but this time it was punctuated with, “No, no, no! This is not what we worked out and I will not allow you to…NO!”

The loud hissing began again. Severus shuddered remembering the same sounds coming from the mouth of his former master. Finally, that too subsided and a barely audible, “That’s better,” was heard, followed by another voice, one that Severus was familiar with, yet could not place.

Deciding that Potter could take care of himself and his visitors, Snape retreated to his bedroom and closed and locked the door. He removed the robe and draped it across the chair near the small hearth before pulling the luxurious sheets over his nude body. After so many months of sleeping on a mattress filled with nothing more than straw and covering himself with a blanket akin to a burlap sack, he almost felt like a king and quickly drifted off into a deep sleep.

Severus woke early the next morning as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon. He stretched languidly, as a cat might after a nap in the sun, and walked nude into the bathroom. He started the shower before brushing his teeth, finding what he needed in the medicine cabinet above the basin.

The hot water felt good raining down on Severus’ skin. His back and arms were still bruised from his incarceration, but they were healing quickly. He decided to ask Harry if he had any salve. After drying off and finding himself some clothes, Severus unlocked his door and strode out and into the kitchen. He was starving! Unfortunately, Harry was nowhere to be found.

Rummaging through the cabinets brought Snape a bounty of breakfast food including porridge, honey, and brown sugar. He opened the ice box and found link sausage and bacon along with a carton of eggs and a jug of milk. In no time, the pots and pans were on the stove and the coffee was making. It felt good for him to be able to do something so mundane as cook for himself.

When the hearty meal was done, Harry was still nowhere to be found, and Severus had not even heard him wandering about the manor. An idle thought of the night before, and Harry’s screaming crossed his mind. He figured, with a smirk, that that was the reason for Harry’s late morning. The Savior of the World had a disagreement with someone, possibly a lover.

Shaking the thoughts of Harry bringing someone into the manor and keeping him locked in his room, Severus cleared his mess away and transferred what was left of the breakfast (which wasn’t much) to a single plate before stepping out onto the porch.

There was a bit of a nip in the air, but, the early morning sunlight kissing the dew atop the late flowering herbs was a balm to his oft tortured soul. If such beauty could have healed his body, Severus had no doubt that he would be almost back to normal. He was pulled from his musings when the door opened and Harry stepped out. He looked as though he’d been in a battle with a blast-ended skrewt and lost. His eyes had dark circles under them and his whole body seemed to droop. There was a long scratch down the left side of his face, also. Green eyes looked up at Severus and the haunted look that he’d seen the evening before was back, and what was more disturbing, it appeared as though Harry was also afraid.

“It may have been a mistake bringing you here, Sir. I’m sorry I’ve inflicted you with my presence,” the young man said quietly.

Severus had no idea why he was apologizing and he said as much. The fear etched across Harry’s features made him look like a scared child when he replied, “Sir, I did not realize until late last night that bringing you here could actually put you in more danger. I’m…not well, and yet I thought I could take care of you and put some things to right between us.”

Harry’s head was down and his eyes closed as Severus tipped his chin up. “Potter, look out across this yard. I have spent the last year in Azkaban, being tortured, and I am suddenly and totally against my will brought here. Danger or no, this has been the healing balm I have needed for so long to restore my spirit from so many years of hate and deceit. Allow me to heal in peace and I will do what I can to help you. That is all that I ask.”

Staring out into the garden, Harry understood what Severus was asking of him. He knew the feeling of healing all too well as he stared out across his yard. Harry resolved to make things right and not nearly so dangerous for Snape. “Thank you, sir. I really needed to hear that.”

The haunted look in his eyes did not disappear, but Harry’s mood appeared to lighten a little. “Would you like some more coffee, Sir?”

“Not at the moment, Potter. Did you find the plate I left for you?”

“I did,” Harry said. “You are an excellent cook, sir.”

Sitting in the large chair of willow, Harry looked up. It appeared that the older man was lost in thought. “What is wrong with you, Potter? Why have you called yourself ‘unwell’?”

In a very business-like tone, Harry replied, “I would prefer not to worry you with my problems, sir. Your only job is to regain your strength. There will be a time for answers, but not right now.”

Severus scowled. He did not like being left in the dark about anything.

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The days quickly turned into weeks and Severus found himself getting stronger and gaining some much needed weight. Harry always let him eat when he wanted to, and pretty much what he wanted, never saying a word. He also let the dark man sleep when he wanted, day or night, waking him with a calming hand on his arm when a nightmare would have him screaming during one of his morning or afternoon naps.

Harry was always gentle with Severus, but after a nightmare, the tenderness that he showed amazed the comforted man. The first nightmare Harry woke him from was during a late morning nap. Severus was sleeping in the green sitting room and Harry was in his chair, reading by the fire. He began whimpering, and Harry turned to look at him. The usually serene features of the sleeping man were contorted and pinched into sheer terror, something Harry never thought he’d see.

Remembering how terrified he often was when he had a nightmare, Harry moved over to the head of the couch and put his hand on Severus’ arm. Snape flinched at the contact, so Harry withdrew and tried another approach. Soft whimpers soon became petrified screams and quick flinches became flailing limbs. Harry didn’t know what to do, so he did what Ron had always done to him when he had a vision. He straddled the slim hips of his former teacher and pinned the long arms to his side and held on for dear life, constantly whispering soothing words into the crook of the pale neck.

Of course, Severus was horrified when he woke to find Harry’s face buried in his neck, whispering soft words of assurance. He promptly dumped him in the floor. Had it been another person, they would have probably gotten angry at being unceremoniously dumped in the floor and then glared at, but Harry just chuckled. He smiled warmly at his former professor and said, “That’s the same reaction I had the first time I woke with Ron keeping me from hurting myself with a vision.”

Severus just continued to glare and Harry said no more about it. He didn’t ask what the nightmares were about, and Severus suspected that Harry wanted him to volunteer the information, but he wouldn’t.

Harry got a little closer to the man with every nightmare. Quickly, Harry was waking Severus from the dreams putting the other’s head in his lap, and stroking the bit of hair that had grown. Secretly, Severus missed the comfort at night. There was something about those slender fingers running gently across his scalp that calmed him. Still, Harry refused to let him leave his room at night, and when his screams from the nightmares became too loud, asked him to put up a silencing charm.

It was after one of his nightmares that Severus had given up any pretense of sleeping, and crept out of his room. It was still well before dawn, and he wanted hot chocolate to sooth his tattered nerves. He’d run out the night before, and decided to risk being caught.

The years he spent as a spy were paying off. He heard Harry’s and another’s voices fading behind him; they were probably in the blue sitting room. It was just as well, because he didn’t want Harry to catch him. Quietly as a shadow, he stepped into the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and grabbed the box of hot chocolate. Then, the small torches flared up illuminating the whole room. Harry was standing in the doorway smirking. “Ah, Severus, so good to see you,” he said in a smug tone, so unlike the Harry he’d come to know.

Adrenaline shot through the tall wizard. He’d been caught out of bounds and now, Harry was acting differently. He almost felt like a child, spending the summer at his grandmother’s house and being caught stealing apples. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, clutching the box of powered chocolate mix. He was terrified that Harry was going to punish him by taking it away.

“Well, you are out of bounds, Severus, what’s your excuse?” Harry asked in that same tone.

“I needed some hot chocolate,” he said, looking at the floor and somewhere deep inside, being ashamed for showing such weakness.

Harry then smiled at his charge, a wide, blinding smile that never reached his eyes. “I’ll walk you back to your room, then. Have you got milk for your chocolate?”

He looked up and threw Harry and incredulous look. Harry was beckoning him through the door, though. He stepped toward the young man, careful not to touch him, and they walked back to his rooms. “I have a guest to rejoin, Severus.” He was still shocked into silence that Harry had not said anything to him except that.

Severus pondered this turn of events in between cups of cocoa until well after daylight. When he finally emerged from his rooms, he was determined to find out what was going on with Harry. He simply had to.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with his head hung low, clinging to his tea cup. “I asked you not to leave your rooms for a reason, Sir,” he said, his gentle voice weary. “Now that you have, he…” Harry looked up mortified that he’d almost let his most important secret slip.